I didn't want to stay in school any longer. As soon as I finished my conversation with Lee, I power-walked back home. I didn't want to speak to Hayden, or anyone else for that matter. I did him and the rest dirty by saying mean stuff about them. All I need is to relax, sit back, and just think. 

And think I did. I think. 

Honestly, I don't know what to do anymore. On one hand, my life has been somewhat...interesting, to say the least, since I met Hayden, much like a category 5 storm is a refreshing breeze on a dank summer evening. On the other hand, a soda, because I like to drink something fizzy when I'm thinking. 

What are my options? What Lee says is partially true: maybe, because we are together, I'm acting as an anchor to their most destructive desires, keeping them safe from headbutting an iceberg. They are a ship in this analogy, if you haven't picked up on that yet. A relation-ship of friendship. 

But staying with them would be suicide. This book has 35 chapters spanning only 5 days of shit that happened to me because I was around a couple of weirdos. If I stay with them, I'm not sure I'll be able to graduate. I might be able to keep them at bay...but we are bound to burn down the school at some point. 

Staying with Lee and joining the student council would be the wisest choice, on paper. But paper is not a reliable method of communication in this digital age, so I don't trust it. Or her, for that matter. Not only is she my PCL, but there is something else inside her. Something dark, and bad, and hateful, like a tiny little badger shitting on his tiny little badger bed. 

The third option is to walk away from both, stick to the original plan. Which, while tempting, I would prefer to put a toothpick under my big toe and punt a football, barefoot, as hard as I can. I can't deal with this curse anymore, and as crazy as it sounds, sticking around Hayden and Brayden has kept some of the everyday bad-boy-isms at bay. I haven't seen Laila or Leeland in a while. Maybe Hayden's plan has some sort of logical semblance to it. 

I'm between a rock, a hard place, and a 20-inch dildo. Anywhere I chose to go, I'm going to get fucked. I just have to choose the one that hurts the least. 

And if I have to get fucked, might as well let it be with friends. 

The die has been cast. I've crossed the Rubicon. My enchis have been ladas'ed. Operation club is a go. 

May God have mercy on my soul. 

Come Monday — a full week since I first set foot on this wretched hellhole I call High School — and I'm feeling optimistic. Which is a pretty weird word once you take a good look at it. If I say "ocularly mystifying," it should be the same, but that's what a weirdo does, and I ain't one.

The first thing I see as soon as I reach the school is a black van pulling over. Out of it comes Brayden, looking vacant and dumbstruck, as always. The only difference is that he's slightly more tanned now. He's wearing a shell necklace and sunglasses. Strike that, he's wearing 3D glasses. 

Behind him are Jungkook and Harry, both looking normal, if terribly sunburnt. 

"Hey, you mediterranean twinky," I tell him in a playful manner, like a kitten batting a yarn ball. "How was Belice?" 

"what? whaddayamean?" he says, sliding his glasses down to give me a look that could punch daggers into a soft balloon animal. Lucky for me, I have my own dark glasses, so I'm protected. "i'm not this brayden you speak of. i'm don panini almordoba, not this brayden fellow, who sounds super cool and also has, like, a huge dong." 

Ah. So that's how it is. "Don't know if Hayden told you, but we're fine. The police took the bait. You can go back to being Brayden." 

He looks around, making sure there is nobody around, before grabbing my throat and pulling me closer to him. I have to use all my strength not to whisper "harder." 

"look, buster, the other brayden is in police custody right now. something about tax evasion, whatever that means. who does the government think they are to take part of the money that I rightfully stole?"

Better not to ask any more questions. Plausible deniability and all.

"So, Bra-" I begin to say, but Jungkook grabs me by the back of the head and pulls me closer to him. He smells like fermented cabbage. 

"That's Don Panini Almordoba to you," he says, letting me go. 

"So, Don Panini Almordoba," I say, with Harry in the background giving me a nod, "what are you doing here so early? Thought you didn't believe in mornings. Or Mondays." 

"yeah, i don't," says Don Panini, "but hayden called me in a panic saying i should get my pretty little bottom over here. something about a club emergency." 

And as fate would have it, there he comes Hayden, running towards us. More like barreling. At least a few bystanders get y knocked out like leaves against the wind. A big, burly wind, made entirely out of meat and testosterone. 

But that same Beefarony wind-shart stops right on his tracks as soon as he locks eyes with me. I can feel his uncertainty in the air. Also, the smell of Old Spice, but I think that's Jungkook. We didn't exactly part ways on the best of terms. The awkwardness is palpable. Again, I think that's just Jungkook, but who am I to say? 

"Hey, brother," says Hayden, scratching the back of his head. "How you doing? I...uh, waited for you, you know? After you went to speak with Lee." 

Now it feels awkward, but coming from me. How the hell am I supposed to respond to that?

"Oh, sorry. I...had to go and think on some stuff." 

"Cool, cool," he says, swaying back and forth while doing that weird finger-snapping clap all basketball coaches do. "So...you good? We good?"

I place a hand on his beef Wellington of a shoulder and give it a squeeze. "Yeah, we good."

Brayden gets between the two of us and tries to make us part. It doesn't work. "omg, get a room and fuck off. what's this about a super-duper important shit that I have to wake up a Monday when the sun still shines?" 

"Oh, right," says Hayden, taking a small pause before arching himself back, followed by a deep inhalation. "We are fucked! Super fucked! No vaseline, elbows deep, glove and fist fucked!" 

Well, that wasn't any innuendo. That's the whole shebang. 

"Calm down, big boy," I say. "Take a deep breath, and tell us what happened." 

"Okay, okay," he says. He takes a deep breath. Then another one. Then another one not so deep, until he starts to hyperventilate. "So, I came in early to get the club sign-up sheet, since it takes a while to fill it, right?" 

"yeah," says Brayden. "and?"

"And I go to the student council room to get one, and..." he says. 

"And?" I say. 

"And there is this paper stuck to the door!" he says, materializing a crumpled-up piece of paper from his pocket. "Look!" 

It's dipping something red and viscous. Is that...is that marinara? 

"Sorry. My Hot-Pocket broke," he says as he takes out a flaky, savory pastry from his pocket. I don't think that's how they work.

I take the paper out of his hand. Aside from the lint, the sauce, and some jimmies for some reason, the words are legible enough.

"STUDENT COUNCIL RESOLUTION 116-UT. 

EVERY NEW CLUB MUST BE COMPRISED OF AT LEAST FOUR(4) MEMBERS WITHOUT EXCEPTION.

SIGNED AND CERTIFIED STUDENT COUNCIL PRESIDENT: LEE VAZQUEZ."

What the fuck? 

"Oh no!" says a devilish, wicked, and sweet voice from inside the school. The figure who owns the voice steps outside from the shadows. This is a high school for fuck's sake. Can't we stop being edgy for a minute? 

The voice, as you might imagine, being so sexy and smart, belongs to Lee Vazquez herself. "You were going to make a club with your bad boy friends, right? With Mr. Wilson and Mr. Messina-Park. What a shame. Seems like you're a member short."

"You!" says Hayden, taking two huge strides towards her, until they were nose to nose. Or nose to navel, she being significantly smaller. I would say navel to dick, but Hayden is not the one being a dick right now. "Why did you change it? I did my homework! It was supposed to be three students at the minimum!" 

"Well, circumstances have...changed," she says, looking at me while she says it with her ice-cold eyes, and even ice-cold breath, like she just bit through a whole pack of Five gum and was stimulating all her senses. "Four will be the minimum required from now on." 

She begins to walk away, but turns around dramatically at the last second. "Oh, and you have until the end of the day to submit your club application." 

This...vixen! This sexy, smart, minty-fresh vixen! Is she willing to go all the way just to have me join her? 

To my surprise, Brayden starts laughing, and steps forward with panache. Now I can say they are dick to dick to dick. "look, lady, i don't know you, but you're being kind of a dick here. you came in, on a monday morning of all days, to harsh our mellows, not knowing that shit is under control. if we need a new member, then we have two here. ain't that right, jungkook, harry?" 

"Yes, about that, Mr. Messina-Park-" she begins to say before being interrupted by Brayden. 

"don panini almordoba to you," he says. 

"...about your two friends over here," she says unfazed, like a mermaid statue overlooking a sea, or a diabetic in a candy store, "I've looked into it, and there is no register of any of them being enrolled in this institution. In fact, the only document I found was a crudely drawn picture of them in crayon that say 'Am Highscholer,' and a pay stub for ten thousand dollars, paid to the direct account of principal Strickland. Any comment on that?" 

Jungkook and Harry look at each other, then at Brayden, then at each other, then nod slightly. 

"Yes," says Jungkook, adjusting his "3edgy5me" sweatshirt. "You will never catch us alive, copper!" 

Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Dumb begin to shuffle away like a couple of penguins, which I believe is their way of running, but it's not like Lee was going to pursue them. All she does is stand there with only a hint of a smile. 

I'm surrounded by idiots. 

"And that's the end of it," she says. "The deadline is at 3 o'clock. Be there with a fourth member, or not be there at all. As for Mr. Gomez...I'll be glad to introduce you as the new member of the student council at 3:01." 

I swallow, hard. This girl, in one fell swoop, just put us in check. But it isn't a checkmate just yet. All we have to do is find one person. One lonely person that can join our cause, and that's it. Seems easy enough. 

"Or is it?" she says. Wait, she can read my mind!

"And no, I can't still read your mind," says Lee. "I just have good intuition. You're thinking that all you need is one good soul to join you, right?"

"Well...yeah. That's right." 

She taps my shoulders, and gives me the only real smile I've ever seen her give. Her face scrunches up into what I can only describe as a butthole demon from the Picante dimension. "Good luck with finding someone who would like to have their school life tied to the three most troublesome people in the school." 

And with that bombshell, she makes like a tree and leaves. 

It shouldn't be that hard, right?

Right?