Emmet stifled a yawn with his fist. The day had started too early, and it was only noon. His face, leg and elbow still throbbed from yesterday, and his eyes felt like sandpaper from lack of sleep. It was all he had been able to do to keep his eyes open in class this morning.

The Rift Doctors, a strangely eclectic bunch, had worked quickly and quietly, keeping mostly to themselves, but even after they had left and the rift safely sealed, Emmet had had a hard time falling asleep. He had tossed and turned for most of the night, only falling asleep two hours before his alarm was due to go off.

Covering another yawn, he shuffled down the hall, keeping his head down. He had almost made it to the relative safety of the cafeteria when a fist crashed into the locker in front of him.

“Hey, Em-m-m-m-met,” a voice taunted. “You got something for me?”

Emmet didn’t have to look up to know it was Danny. It was always Danny. Most of the kids were happy to just ignore Emmet, but not Danny. Danny was a bully straight out of a grade school cartoon. Right down to wedgies and stealing his lunch money.

Emmet sighed inwardly and fished around in his pocket until his fingers brushed the crumpled bills he kept there. Pulling them out, he held them out to Danny, who snatched it out of his hand.

“Now you’re getting it,” he said, tousling Emmet’s hair a bit too roughly to be playful.

He held the money under his nose and sniffed it exaggeratedly. “Nothing like the scent of hard earned income.”

Emmet kept his head down and said nothing.

With a grin, Danny pocketed the money, gave Emmet one final shove into the row of lockers and disappeared back into the crowd.

Emmet stood for a moment, feeling dejected and angry.

Disgruntled, he made his way into the cafeteria and seated himself at the first empty table he could find. He dug a battered copy of Dune out of his backpack and buried his nose in it.

He’d only gone about 2 pages when a pile of text books dropped with a loud smack onto the table beside him. Emmet buried his nose further, purposely not looking up.

“Good book?”

Startled, Emmet looked up. It was Vanessa.

“Uh-” Emmet started, but couldn’t finish.

It was one thing to have talked to Vanessa, but another altogether to talk to her at school.

She sat down beside him and pulled out a brown bagged lunch from her back pack. She smelled like peaches.

“What happened to your face?”

Emmet sighed. So much had happened to his face he wouldn’t even know where to begin anymore. He certainly didn’t want to tell her about Danny, though, so he told her instead, in hushed tones, about the Rift under his bed and the strange boy who had come out of it.

By the time he finished, Vanessa was staring at him incredulously.

“And no one thought to call me?” she managed to choke out.

Emmet shrugged. “I d-d-don’t have y-your n-number.”

She made a disgusted noise, then said, “Give me your phone.”

He unlocked it and passed it to her.

She swiped to his contacts list, and he was momentarily embarrassed about his lack of friends, but she didn’t comment, only added her number to his list.

“There,” she said. “Next time, text me. I’ll come over.”

If he was being honest with himself, Emmet wasn’t sure if he was ready to handle the idea of Vanessa in his bedroom. He fiddled with the cover of his book,  not knowing what to say.

Vanessa, either unaware of his predicament or politely ignoring it, reached into her lunch bag and pulled out a plastic wrapped sandwich. She peeled back the wrap and sniffed it, then wrinkled her nose.

“Egg salad,” she grumbled. “I hate egg salad.”

She held the sandwich out to him. “Want it?”

He hesitated, and she wiggled it at him.

“Go on, take it,” she said. “I’m just going to throw it out if you don’t.”

He took it, mumbling a thanks as he did.

“Yeah, no problem,” she said.

Pulling the lip of the bag open, she peered inside before pulling out a slightly abused apple. She frowned at it and sighed.

“Man, I hate Thursdays,” she grumbled. “It’s always end of the week groceries.”

Not knowing what to say, Emmet took a bite of the egg salad sandwich. It was surprisingly good. He thought maybe it had pickles in it.

“Are you guys going out again tonight?” she asked before taking a bite of her apple.

Emmet swallowed and self consciously wiped his mouth before answering. “S-someone is c-c-coming after sc-school to g-get me.”

“Alright, well I’m coming with” she said. “Don’t let them leave without me.”

“O-okay,” Emmet agreed.

Vanessa stuffed her brown paper bag back into her back pack and scooped up her text books.

“Gotta run,” she said. “I’ve already skipped most of this week and Mr. Patrick’s on a war path to get me expelled if I miss anymore. Catch ya later, Emmet.”

Emmet stared, perplexed, at his book, and then at the egg salad. Did he just make a friend? He smiled to himself and took another bite, the aroma of peaches still lingering in the air.

***

Emmet and Vanessa stood outside, on the pedestrian side of the fence near the football field. The Hackensack High footbridge spanned the sky above them and Emmet absently traced its swirling ramp with his eye.

“Counting the days until you can cross it?” Vanessa asked, idly plucking at a dandelion stem, shredding the stalk with her thumbnail.

She was referring to the tradition of Hacken Sack graduates crossing the bridge, en masse, on commencement day.

“Aren’t y-you?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Nah. I mean, I probably won’t even graduate. I’m just waiting until I turn 18 and can move out on my own.”

“Y-you d-don’t w-want t-to go t-to c-college?”

“And give up Rifting? No way. Observe Shane, if you will. He can’t even hold a job.”

“B-brock does.”

“Pfft. Brock just got this job, let’s see how long he can hold it.”

A white, Nissan beater probably made in the mid 90s pulled up to the curb and Shane unrolled the window on the passengers side.

“Need a lift?”

The car sputtered and Emmet eyed it dubiously before Vanessa grabbed his arm and hustled him inside.

Lloyd, sitting behind the wheel turned to regard them as they got in.

“Ouch, Emmet, you look like Shane after a bad jump.”

“It was one tree!” Shane protested.

“It-it’s a long s-story,” Emmet said.

“Well it’s a long trip,” Shane replied, “Lloyd drives like Grandma Lucy on church potluck day, so you’ve got lots of time.”

Lloyd frowned at him, but didn’t reply as he pulled the car back into traffic.

Emmet sighed and started the story once again.