Stardust: Stars and Stories

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        The sunlight glided in passed the lace curtains, radiating over every inch of the cluttered bedroom like each ray was a tiny dancer soaring across a vast stage. The beams reached across Skylar's face. The tweets of the birds outside basked in the morning's glow, but Skylar shared none of it.

His throat rumbled acidically. His eyes stung. His stomach felt like the fiery pits of hell. His back ached and his head pounded. Everything was too loud; even the sound of his own breathing. With hangovers like that, he preferred to sleep for at least forty-eight consecutive hours before he even fathomed doing something with himself that required the slightest ounce of movement or thought. It was uncomfortable to breathe, let alone process that it was seven o'clock in the morning.

"Skylar," a female sang nearby.

Her voice swam around Skylar's ears. It sounded like she was miles away and beneath the ocean. Or possibly he was the one that was miles away and drowning beneath the pints of liquor that he consumed the night prior.

He groaned, then opened his eyes for a brief moment only to be blinded by the sunlight penetrating the curtains. Clasping his eyelids closed, he burrowed deeper into the soft sheets, never wanting to leave the mattress.

"C'mon, Sky," she called, "today is the first day of our sophomore year."

"Which gives me all the more reason not to wake up," he grunted, his voice muffled. The feathery pillows soothed the nuisance of a throb in his head and helped to pacify the lurch of his stomach.

"Skylar," she exclaimed.

"Brennyn," he snarled, "you're being annoying."

Before he could taunt her or throw his chest out in triumph at her abrupt quiet and nuzzle himself even deeper into the bed, an elbow crashed into his spine as well as the rest of a body.

His eyes jolted open and he hissed in agony.

"Get up," Brennyn shouted, straddling him beneath her and punching at his back. Her knees digging into his sides was the most uncomfortable.

She sneered at her seemingly unconquerable hold on him, until he suddenly flipped over, tossing her off of his back. She sailed over the edge of the bed. A yelp shot passed her lips as her back collided into the hardwood. Her hair flew every which-way and some of the brunette strands stuck to her lips. Writhing on the floor, she spat out her own hair.

A gleaming pair of copper irises peeked over the edge of the bed at her embarrassing disposition.

"Your punches feel like mosquito bites," Skylar chuckled. "You have mosquito fists."

She brought her lips into a hard line. "Great, now I have to brush my hair all over again."

"I hadn't realized you brushed it in the first place."

"Oh, my God," she wailed, eyes locking onto him with a steely resolve. "You're such an asshole!"

Watching as her tiny hands fisted the ivory sheets to pull herself from the floor, Skylar blinked in indifference. "I don't think your God would appreciate that very much."

She frowned. Ignoring him, she straightened her clothes, bunching her tight, low-cut T-shirt over her hips, and smoothing wrinkles out of her jean shorts, so short that her pockets hung out from the bottom.

Skylar stifled a laugh. "You look like an out-of-commission hooker."

"It's California! People dress like this all the time!"

"Sure," he stressed with a grin. "Hey, I didn't get to ask you how your vacation was before we fell asleep..."

"Oh, yeah," she gleamed. "It was great. I practically lived in my bikini. I love Hawaii; especially all the Hawaiian boys." She teetered on the heels of her tall wedges as she recalled the many muscly, shirtless men with perfect tans that sauntered throughout the resort. Just as quickly, her smile faltered, replaced with a grimace.

"Shannyn was so annoying. I had to tell her to shut up every five seconds 'cause all she kept spouting off were facts about Hawaii and how I shouldn't flirt with any of the guys 'cause we weren't staying very long. Next Summer, I hope she gets left like that brat from Home Alone."

Skylar sneered, his brows creeping up a bit.

"Speak of the devil and she doth appear," he nodded toward the door.

Brennyn's attention snapped towards the bedroom door lined with band posters and old concert tickets. She growled.

Posted against the door frame, a slender girl of likening age looked in. She shared the exact same oval-shaped face as Brennyn, although her features were framed by milky blonde hair and her child-like nose was faintly dashed with freckles. She even shared Brennyn's fashion sense, but the her T-shirt covered her entire midsection, and her shorts ended at the middle of her thighs. She picked at the white paint on her finger nails.

"It's almost time for school," she smiled brightly. "Nice seeing you, Sky."

Skylar grinned. "How's it hangin', Shay?"

"I'm good," she laughed. "When did you get here?"

"That's none of your business, Shannyn," Brennyn hissed. Just from hearing that voice alone, she was almost tempted to slam the door.

"What'd I do?"

Brennyn huffed, yanking a comb through her hair. She striked a knot which played at her temper even more. "You damn-near ruined my vacation, that's what."

Shannyn's eyes, the exact shade as Brennyn's, narrowed. "No, I didn't."

"Uh, yeah, ya' did," Brennyn snapped. Her hand itched to toss the comb right at Shannyn's forehead, to which Shannyn would most likely throw it back and a brawl would follow.

"You ruined it for yourself," Shannyn piqued. "It was supposed to be a family vacation, but you spent most of it chasing guys. You made yourself look trashy."

"Are you sayin' I'm trashy?!"

Lain on his stomach with his head propped up on his fists, Skylar smirked at the scene.

"No," Shannyn rolled her eyes with a defensive bark in her tone. "I meant that you look trashy."

"Shut up, Shannyn!" Brennyn snapped, threateningly pointing the comb at the blonde's throat.

Shannyn sighed and retreated from the door. She disappeared down the long, lavish hallways of the pristine home.

Bellowing laughter nearly spilled Skylar over the edge of the bed. "Trouble in Twinsle Town?"

Brennyn and Shannyn, the 'Tetro twins', were the complete opposite of what you would expect a pair of twins to be. If they had to be described as regions, they would be the desert and the arctic. On the contrary to finishing each others' sentences and combing each others' hair — which was what was expected of them, — they had been known to shout at one another and pull each others' hair. It was not uncommon to find Brennyn holding Shannyn in a head-lock, nor was it out of place to see Shannyn throw something at her twin before retreating. Being the older and more aggressive of the twins, Brennyn had more leeway in every spat between herself and her doppelganger.

"You," Brennyn barked at the body racked with sobbing chuckles wound up in the sheets of her bed, "stop laughing."

The heels of her wedges pulverize the wood as she stomped across the room, hurdling over her unpacked vacation luggage scattered across the floor. She threw open the expansive doors of her closet. Some shirts fluttered from their hangers to join most of the garments in a heap on the floor. Properly organizing the amount of neglected clothes and shoes stuffed into this wardrobe would surely take a whole day, if not longer.

"You're such a PMS-ing bitch," Skylar scoffed. "Why do I even put up with you?"

Blouses and bottoms were thrown every which way. Skylar ducked low against the mattress as a vest sailed towards his throbbing head. Once she had dismantled the wardrobe beyond repair, rummaging through piles, heaps, and stacks of clothing at the bottom of her closet, she resurfaced with a wad of material clenched in her hands.

"Because I give you a part-time home when your mom is 'out of town,' and I hide you whenever you get in trouble," she snapped, "so put these on."

She tossed the wad at him, which he nearly caught with his face. Loosening the wad between his bruised fists, his brows furrowed.

She sighed. "You left some of your clothes here last summer. My mom even took the time to wash 'em for you, so put 'em on!"

"No," he petitioned. "I can wear what I have on. It's school, not a fashion show."

She went slack-jawed, but hastily recovered. "You can't wear the same clothes two days in a row! That's... that's unsanitary! And, actually, school is like a fashion show! If you don't want to be a leper or the last rung on the social ladder, than at least try to look presentable!"

"Wow, you learned some new words," he smirked, but once he noticed her scowl, he relented. "Fine."

Brennyn smiled victoriously as she watched him drag himself from the comfort of her bed and into her bathroom. He slammed the door behind him.

"Oh," she called, "don't forget to brush your teeth. I put out an extra toothbrush for you!"

Another groan echoed from the bathroom door.

Skylar resurfaced with a fresh pair of jeans and a blisteringly white T-shirt. His clothes could practically sparkle from the amount of bleach, stain removing chemicals, and attentiveness that Mrs. Tetro loaded into the washing machine. Despite the feeling of clean clothes brushing a tingling sensation against his skin, the same frown was present on his minty lips.

"You didn't brush your hair," Brennyn noted, reaching up on the tips of her toes to comb his hair with her fingers.

"Don't touch me," he barked. A slight chuckle was evident in his tone, and before she could respond or force more of her motherly affections onto him, he darted out of her room as if a great fire were licking at the heels of his worn shoes.

"You're such an ass!" she shouted. Snatching up her messenger bag, she trailed closely after him.

High ivory walls crowned in black, wide window panes that sparkled in the sun's morning gaze, perfect family portraits that made one think of the Tetro's as whoa lesome family, and a few stands with heavenly-scented flowers or expensive vases passed by in a blur as the two tore through the halls in a wild sprint. Their steps pounded down a curving flight of stairs. Skylar mounted the banister and slid down the final few steps.

They entered a high, pearly archway carved with vines that met into a blooming flower at its apex. They stalled when they found themselves on an ocean of sparkling, checkered tile. Spacious windows flooded the kitchen in sunlight. The light gleamed off of the granite counter tops and the matching island, the steely appliances, and the chandelier dangling from the ceiling. However, the grandeur of the kitchen was disturbed.

A petite blonde woman who appeared as if she was an older version of the twins, was tangled up in a backwards hug by a dashing middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair and a wide grin that exposed crows-feet beside his oceanic eyes. The woman's shrill gasp of laughter was deafening. The man laughed as if it was the most beautiful melody he had ever heard.

"Damn, Mrs. Tetro," Skylar cringed, "your laugh could make Helen Keller cover her ears."

Wriggling her way out of her husband's grip, Mrs. Tetro couldn't suppress her wide smile. "Kids!"

Behind Skylar and Brennyn, Shannyn and someone else meandered into the kitchen. The figure beside Shannyn was a young boy of messy brunette and a freckled face yet to reach puberty. He rubbed his eyes as if being up this early was for the birds. The laces of his sneakers were untied and he nearly tripped over them. Shannyn adjusted his jacket and tugged up the zipper of his border shorts. He groggily slapped her away, to which she ignored and continued to fix him up.

"G'morning," the boy yawned.

Everyone bid their greetings, but Skylar was the last to make sure that he was heard the most clearly.

"Skylar," the boy exclaimed. He was always so smothered by the twins that he could really use any extra male bonding, other than his father, that he could get.

Skylar called back equally as enthused. "Joey!"

"Did you sleep over?" Joey inquired. "You could've slept in my room. Bree snores like a bear."

"Shut up, Joey!" Brennyn snapped, swatting the back of his head.

A deep bark from Mr. Tetro caused the crystals of the chandelier to quiver. "Keep your hands to yourself."

Brennyn rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. There was a slight burn in her cheeks as she reverted into herself.

Skylar sneered.

"Shut up," she muttered, elbowing him in the side.

Mrs. Tetro smiled, deflecting the attention from Brennyn. "Alright, kids. Hurry up and eat your breakfast before you're late for school. I'd hate to hear that any one of you is tardy on your first day."

"We're just gonna eat at school," Brennyn said.

"But," Mrs. Tetro frowned, "I made Pop-Tarts." She gestured towards a tower of singed pastries on the island.

Grimacing at the mound of charred tarts that appeared hardly edible at all through the flaky blackness, Skylar swallowed back a nauseated grunt. The pillows that once soothed the unsettled quarrel in his belly were no help now. His stomach lurched at the foul stench of scorched strawberry filling.

"I'm surprised you didn't burn the house down," Shannyn mused. "Everyone knows you can't cook."

A panicked hush escaped Mrs. Tetro. She clapped a hand over Shannyn's mouth.

"The neighbors might hear you," she peevishly whispered. "They don't need to know that I buy my famous cheesecake from the grocery store!"

"We're leaving now," Brennyn grumbled. She snatched an arm from both Skylar and Joey and made for the front door. The two behind her went without a word in edgewise, but they shared a sigh.

Shannyn pryed her mother's palm from her lips and scurried to join the others.

The three, aside from Joey who had hitched himself a ride on Skylar's back, walked in-step through lanes of perfectly manicured homes, abstractly designed wrought-iron gates, and tediously attended-to lawns. Shannyn strayed a few feet behind the group and nearly got pelted by a lawn sprinkler. She yelped, jogging towards the rest of the group to avoid the inevitable drench that would come from walking too closely to her neighbors' yards.

They drifted in and out of focus as branches of the treelined suburb broke the sunlight.

"What grade are you in this year?" Skylar asked, tilting his head towards the boy latched onto his back.

"Sixth! One more year closer to high school!"

"Trust me," Brennyn grunted, "high school isn't that exciting."

"It is when you have a lot of friends," Joey smirked, "unlike you."

Joey shrieked as Brennyn raised a fist to strike him.

"Chill out," Skylar barked. "If you end up hittin' me, I won't hesitate to hit you back."

Brennyn scoffed. "You won't hit me."

"I might." He glowered.

"You're a royal bitch this morning. You obviously haven't had your fix yet." Her hand raised to mimic smoking a joint.

"Brennyn," Shannyn gasped, "don't do that in front of Joey. You're setting a bad example! What if he went to school and did that and got kicked out? Dad would kill you and make it look like an accident!"

Brennyn dismissed her sister's squalls with a wave of her hand.

Skylar, on the other hand, seemed quite disturbed by the mention of their father. "Your dad makes me uncomfortable."

"Why, 'cause he's a district attorney and has a lot of connections in the police department?"

He frowned at Brennyn's relentless teasing and was nearly tempted to push her off the sidewalk into oncoming traffic.

Rounding a corner at the end of the street, a building stretched along the right side of the sidewalk. Its white bricks lined with windows and tall fountain in the courtyard gleamed in the sun. In curvilinear lettering over the pearly doors was Indus Elementary. It was said to have been constructed in the late 19th century by some astronomer. In fact, all of the schools in Cetus, California were believed to be constructed by that very same astronomer. Even the name Cetus is a constellation.

"Hey, Sky," Joey called, leaning over the broad shoulders holding him up, "what does Indus mean?"

"It's a constellation of the American Indian."

"Of course you know that," Brennyn snorted. "You stare at the sky too much."

Their steps came to a slow as the shrill chime of the school bell was heard beneath the zooming of passing cars and chattering of children swarming around the elementary.

"See you guys later," Joey grinned. In a dash, he hopped from Skylar's back and was swallowed up by the sea of children in the courtyard.

"I wish I was as excited as he is about school," Skylar said. With an absentminded shrug, he continued on passed the twins who watched diligently as their little brother entered the front doors. Once they were satisfied that he made it inside safely, they jogged after Skylar as he crossed the busy street.

"Hey," Brennyn called, side-stepping around a snail on the sidewalk, "does anyone know if Matt's back yet?"

"No, but I guess we'll see when we pass his house in about five minutes," Shannyn said.

Precisely five minutes later, after passing a few blocks and nearly being hit by a man who shouted that he was an hour late for work, a familiar house re-painted in an unfamiliar hue drew closer. The lavish McMansion, once a brilliant shade of blue, had been painted in a deep red and the shutters black.

Hurrying out of the alabaster door and down the front steps, was a tall blonde young man with a fair complexion. He rooted around in the pocket of his cargo shorts, pulling out a slick cellphone. Flipping open the screen, he dialed and impatiently tapped his foot as he listened to the tone.

Brennyn pulled out a phone of her own. "Matt!"

The blonde, Matt, smiled with a mouth full of silver braces.

"Look to your left."

Matt complied and his smile widened to where his braces glinted in the sunlight. It was blinding.

The twins took off towards Matt.

Skylar maintained his normal, dilatory speed until he reached the frontyard of the house where the girls clung to Matt.

The twins bombarded Matt with a current of questions. "How was your vacation? Where did you go? Did you do a lot of traveling? It feels like we haven't seen you in forever, doesn't it? We missed you, did you miss us?"

With a chuckle, Matt answered each with a smooth voice. "It was pretty good. We went to Australia for four weeks, New Zealand for two, and we took a cruise on the Atlantic. So, yeah, we did a lot of traveling. Yes it does, and I missed the both of you as well."

The three carried on a hushed, intimate conversation, huddled against one another, presumably catching up on what had happened during their summer vacations.

Skylar, on the other hand, had no adventurous stories to tell nor significant discoveries over the coarse of the summer. Far less fortunate than his friends, he did not go anywhere. Cetus was the only view, but every rock and crevice had been overturned and searched there for Skylar. The only excitement he found was in the nights he had too much to drink and everyting regained its novelty for those few, brief hours until the buzz was gone and day began to break.

Pestered from fading into the background, almost as if he was nothing but a part of the shrubbery, Skylar barked, "What am I, a goddamn shadow?"

In sycronized steps, the twins began to inch away.

Matt's azure eyes clouded in contempt. "Besides being a degenerate drug addict, that's all you are."

The twins' attention was captured anywhere except for the two present incubators of testosterone. They pretended as though they were nothing but oblivious passerbys, but they knew good and well what was going on.

"What's your problem?" Skylar snorted.

Matt's fuse sparked and began to eat away at a thin wire that was connected to the handle he had on his temper. "My problem is you, Skylar!" he snapped, taking a daring step towards Skylar. "Do you realize that my dad didn't talk to me all summer?! Throughout our entire vacation, he didn't even look at me once because of you! He's acting like I don't even exist!"

The neighbors began to poke their heads out of their windows to observe the commotion. Kids equipped with backpacks and school supplies slowed their rush to school just to get a listen.

Skylar shrugged. "How's that my fault?"

"Have you forgotten that four months ago you kissed me in front of my dad?!" Matt shouted, his hands flailing in the air.

The old woman next door gasped, watching intently as if this was one of her soap operas.

"You just couldn't let go of the fact that my dad is extremely religious and I wasn't ready to tell him that I'm gay!"

"I don't know why you're freakin' out," Skylar said in spite. "It's not like you got kicked outta your house or anything. Calm the fuck down."

Matt's lips began to quiver and his eyes reddened. "You're so insensitive," he choked.

Before the twins could voice the opinions on the tips of their tongues, or before Skylar could get in another sarcastic jab, Matt pivoted on his heels. He took off in a rush down the sidewalk, but not before Skylar caught a sniffle and saw him wipe at his damp eyes.

Both of the twin's delicate faces fractured into hard grimaces.

"You're an asshole," they spouted in unison before abandoning Skylar in search of Matt's fleeting silhouette.

Skylar was left in Matt's front yard with furrowed brows, raised shoulders, and a questioning expression of the open-mouthed variety. He turned to a few watchful, curious neighbors who saw the entire scene unfold. The neighbors shook their heads or muttered unpleasantries before pulling their heads back into their homes. Skylar flipped the neighbors the bird and stomped down the sidewalk.

Down the street, beneath a tall oak that concealed them from the bright morning sun, the twins consoled a tear-stained Matt in soothing whispers and pats on his back.

Turning their heads at the sound of Skylar's not-so-subtle approach, Matt grumbled. "Go away, Sky."

"That's gonna be pretty hard considering that we go to the same school and hang out with the same people," Skylar barked sarcastically. "But if you'd like, I can skip school and go snort a line of coke since I'm such a drug addict."

Matt diverted his gaze to the ground. Pushing through a hard gulp that felt as if it could make his throat collapse, he grumbled an almost unheard apology.

"Skylar should be the one apologizing," Brennyn spat. Her expression was heated. It was enough to break through Skylar's facade and elicit an apology, albeit half-hearted.

Skylar shrugged. "My bad."

Nipping at his lip with his braced teeth, Matt nodded.

"School starts in ten, so we better get going," Shannyn said.

Dipping beneath low-hanging tree branches, the group cut through the backyard of a for-lease home. Skylar hung back a few feet from the rest. If it were possible, Skylar thought steam should be lolling out of his ears by then. He was grimacing, hard. His hands found themselves deep in his pockets, old bruises faintly aching from how roughly they were shoved.

"Well," Shannyn remarked, "this has been a very eventful first day and we haven't even gotten to school yet."

"Did anyone see what happened on MySpace this weekend?" Brennyn asked.

Shannyn rolled her eyes.

"I don't have a MySpace," Matt informed.

Brennyn cackled at him. "It's 2007, everyone has a MySpace. Even Joey does."

"Anyway," she clapped her manicured hands, "there's a rumor going around that Leah slept with, like, seven different guys at some senior girl's party a couple weeks ago."

"Don't believe everything you see on the internet," Skylar grunted.

"And what's that supposed to mean, Mr. Know-It-All?"

"Since you guys ditched me this summer, I've been hangin' out with Leah," Skylar said, "and I was at that party. She was with me all night, so unless I have six clones, then the only person she fucked was me."

Shannyn shrieked in disgust. "She probably gave you VD."

Face draining of its tan as if she just ate bad seafood, of which she was allergic to, Brennyn pointed a sharpened claw at Skylar's throat. "Are you and her back together?"

A smug grin, like the smile of a skull, overtook Skylar. He traipsed passed the group, and broke through the treeline of the backyard, shoving branches to and fro as if Hogwarts or Narnia was beyond the wooded cove. Unfortunately, it was just their high school, which was a lot less exciting, but the grapevine that Brennyn adored to divulge in kept her fairly excited for the new school year.

Matt followed, nearly whacking Brennyn in the face with a tree branch.

"I have twigs in my hair," Brennyn griped. "Why can't we ever take the normal way?"

"Because the 'normal way' is ten minutes longer, and, quite frankly, I'd rather not spend anymore time with you," Shannyn snorted. "I can't believe we shared a womb."

"Shut up, Shannyn," Brennyn grunted.

Stepping from the trees and into the parking lot, a tall, beige building awaited. The curvilinear roof and entrances had been freshly painted red to kick off the new school year. Countless windows dotted the school, flushing it in an open, airy feeling. However, even if the school was nothing by a glass box, Skylar would still feel a drop of uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. Pyxis High School, in upper case, metallic letters that jutted off of the building in an almost 3D effect, was Skylar's idea of prison.

Teens flocked around the school, catching up with old friends, being reprimanded by watchful teachers for skating on the sidewalks, blasting the stereos in their cars, picking out freshmen for hazing, circulating summer gossip, and the likes.

"I feel like I'm turning myself in to the cops," Skylar grimaced.

"Don't be so melodramatic," Brennyn smirked.

"Says the drama queen."

"Whatever."

Ushering them on in a leisurely pace through the throng of teens, Brennyn declared. "Gimme your schedules. I wanna know who I can pass notes to."

"You already saw mine," Shannyn said. "We have History and French together."

Matt sighed. "Just like every other school year, they forgot to send mine. I've checked the mailbox three times and every time I only found 'Welcome to Another Year at Pyxis' letters."

"I think mine came, but my mailbox got stolen before I could get it," Skylar shrugged.

"What?" Brennyn asked.

"Yeah, there's like a shit-load of crackheads in my trailer park and they sell scrapped metal for drug money. My mailbox was steel, so they jacked it," he chuckled.

"That's not funny," Shannyn gasped, "that's terrible."

"Oh, my God," Brennyn hissed. Stretching her arms out wide, she braked on the tips of her toes. The three behind her collided into her outstretched arms, forcing them to stop as well. Matt groaned, clutching his chest from the whack of her hand.

"Why the hell'd you pull the emergency brake?" Skylar snapped, almost tempted to shove her tiny stature out of the way.

"The walking STD is among us," she seethed.

"Don't get yourself too worked up, Mother Teresa," sneered a honeyed, feminine voice.

Standing in the middle of their path was a threatening smirk encased in a set of glossed, plump lips. Long waves of black draped her heart-shaped face. Her toffee eyes were shadowed by heavily-mascaraed lashes and her cinnamon skin practically glowed from the amount of lotion she had applied. Her clothes were nearly, if not more, revealing than Brennyn's; scantily clad in a loose, ivory tank top that ended just above her pierced belly button and distressed black jeans that were far too tight. Brennyn found it astonishing that the circulation in her legs had not been cut off.

"Slut," Brennyn coughed.

"Prude," she shot right back.

Skylar smiled, stepping around the barrier that was Brennyn. He draped an arm over the shoulders of the girl. She wrapped an arm around his waist.

Skylar smiled. "Hey, Leah."

"Great," Shannyn grunted, "now he's infected."

"Get lost," Leah snarled.

Brennyn's entire being rippled with fury. She tossed her messenger bag to her twin and stomped all of her four-foot-eleven stature to Leah's face. Despite the evident height difference, with Leah standing over a head taller, Brennyn barked, "If you wanna go there, bitch, we can go!"

Leah laughed. "You're practically a legal midget."

Launching herself up on the tips of her toes for added effect, Brennyn howled. "For your damn information, I'm one inch over the height limit of a dwarf!"

"Chill out, Bree," Skylar said, using his body as a shield between the two fuming females.

The three-minute warning bell squalled in the background. Some of teens that cast interested eyes on the fivesome had begun to scurry into the school, but many still hung around, yearning to see if this will be the first fight of the school year.

"I don't have time for this crap this year. I thought we would've matured over the summer, but apparently not," Matt snapped, grabbing a hold of Skylar and pulling him from the fray. He dragged Skyar behind him as he trampled his way to the glass doors of Pyxis.

"Wait," Skylar called. "Where we goin'?"

"We have to get our schedules," Matt curtly replied.

"But-" Skylar began, only for his words to be hushed by the blonde with the deadly grip of his neckline.

"They can kill each other for all I care."

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A/N: Cetus, California is not a real place, obviously. And Pyxis is pronounced as 'Piksis.'