"Are you listening to me?" Mr. Levis roared. He stood, angrily slamming his palms against the tabletop, as if the motion would help to propel him higher out of the seat.

Grayson cringed and wiped the spit, from his principal's wild howling, off of his dark brown locks. "I don't need to look at you to hear you, Mr. Levis,"

"This is a serious matter, you brat," The principal snapped, pacing in front of his desk. He took a slow, deep, breath and tried again. "This is assault, Mr. Ritcher. We are no longer talking about suspension. This could require legal action, considering your age. You're not in middle school anymore,"

Gray grunted, to signal that he was listening, even though he wasn't. His eyes were fixed through the window of Mr. Levis' office, but he didn't really see any of it.

Grayson had changed by leaps and bounds since the summer of his seventh birthday. But a lot of him still hadn't changed, including the ease of which he disappeared into his own imagination.

His teachers called him a slacker, his friends called him brainless, his girlfriend called him a dreamer. Yet, even with all of those titles, Gray didn't even know what to call himself. Maybe he was all of them.

Maybe he was none.

It felt like he'd changed a lot, growing up. But compared to everyone else, had he really changed at all?

Sure, he was taller, heavier, and had a girlfriend, now. But he was still a daydreamer, he still hated questions and questioning, he still couldn't grow a beard.

Damn, he really wanted a beard.

Don't the have, like, hair growing lotion? I need to get some of that.

"Sit your butt down, Ritcher!"

Whoops. Forgot about this. He grunted and lowered himself back into the rickety little chair and stared at his principal. "Look, I don't know what you want me to say,"

Mr. Levis leaned forwards against his desk and bore his eyes into Grayson's. "You can start by telling me why the hell you slugged Jack Houston with a rock!" He demanded.

"Simple," Gray shrugged. "I didn't. Can I go now?"

"No! No you can't! Because if there was no rock in use, you sure as hell should be able to explain what hit Jack in the face and fractured his eye socket?"

"I didn't say there wasn't a rock in use," Grayson reminded the adult, leaning forwards. "I'm saying that I wasn't the one who threw it,"

"Oh. Right. Of course," Mr. Levis raised his hands in a sarcastic apology, and sat back down. "Some other guy did it,"

"I guess," Gray shrugged, leaning back in his seat. "Whoever it was was somewhere behind me. I didn't see them,"

Mr. Levis' eye twitched.

"You mean to tell me... That Jack Houston and Mark Thompson told me that you threw that rock at him," the principal began slowly. "But you say someone else did it. But you don't know who it was,"

"That just about sums it up," Gray nodded, standing up and grabbing his jacket.

"Excuse me, but where the hell do you think you're going?"

"Look, sir," Gray rolled his eyes and turned back to face his principal. "I've done you a favor by sticking around and dealing with this, this far. But you've got nothing on me. Jack and Mark were actively high when they hunted me down, and they're your only two witnesses. I know my rights. And I know you can't make me stay here. So I have a class to get to. Good day,"

Before Mr. Levis could utter another sound, Gray slammed the door behind him and wandered out into the front office.

That's when he locked eyes with a boy walking out into the hallway. Only for a split second, but long enough.

Gray knew the boy, but didn't really remember his name. It was Ian, probably. Or maybe Irving. One of the two.

But the name wasn't what caught his eye. Or even the face. It was the look in his eye. Trapped. Broken, and unsure. It was a look Grayson had seen once before. In the mirror when his mother died.

That long ago.

"Excuse me," he knocked on the front desk to catch Mrs. Witherspoon's attention. "Where'd the boy from that seat go?"

"I don't know," she replied in a monotone, dead-on-the-inside, tone that could only have come from a couple decades of working with teenagers. "He came and sat down for a few minutes, and then walked out without a word. I guess he wanted Mr. Levis's help with something,"

Obviously not badly enough, I guess. Grayson told himself. But deep down he wasn't so sure. However, given that there was nothing much he could do at this point, Gray merely shrugged his jacket over his shoulders and nodded his goodbye to the top of Mrs. Witherspoon's head. Then he sauntered off into the hallway.

No sign of Irv-an...

"Hey babe!"

Gray immediately felt a hand grip his side, and a pair caramel sweet lips place a kiss on the back of his neck.

Gray turned around and returned the favor to the dark skin of girlfriend's neck, carefully avoiding her butterfly necklace. He knew full well how much she hated when people touched it.

"Hey, Crystal," he hummed.

"Are you avoiding me? 'cause I haven't seen you anywhere,"

That's an exaggeration. It's not like you don't follow me everywhere...

Taking his silence as an answer, Crystal took it upon herself to glance over his shoulder at the door he'd just came through. "Mr. Levis's office? What'd you get yourself into?"

"It wasn't my fault," Gray insisted. He started down the hall towards science class, flinching a little when Crystal's hand shot out and seized his. "That idiot, Houston, and his buddy caught me on the way to school and started beating me-"

"Oh my god, are your hurt?" Crystal lifted his shirt to check for bruises.

" 'Ey," He slapped her hands. "Private display only, grabass. Not in the middle of the hallway,"

Crystal giggled and punched his arm playfully. Was it just Gray, or was his girlfriend incredibly obnoxious? He didn't really have much of a choice though. Crystal seemed eager from day one, and nobody else was exactly lining up to shower him with affection.

"I'm fine," he assured her. "But someone came after them,"

"Oh?" She glanced around, as if to catch any eves droppers of this, incredibly public, conversation. "Who?"

"I'm not sure," Gray admitted, glancing over his own shoulder, even though he was unsure why she'd done it in the first place. "One second Jack was kicking and yelling at me, then this rock flew out of nowhere and hit him in the face,"

Crystal raised her eyebrows. "Someone threw a rock at him? Was it Bret?"

"No, Bret stayed home today because he has a doctor's appointment. But whoever threw the rock, thew it hard enough to fracture Jack's eye socket," Gray said.

He squeezed her hand when they reached the door to science, attempting to loosen her vice-like grip. "I don't know who it was. But honestly these past couple days... I've had this feeling that someone has been watching me,"

"Oh," Crystal growled. She immediately dropped his hand, and grinded her teeth.

That wasn't really the reaction he expected. Crystal was always the first one to laugh off what she called: his "silly paranoia". Whether it was about being followed, seeing ghosts, even about his vague belief in magic. But this seemed genuinely upsetting to her.

"You okay?" He asked, tapping her, ever so cautiously, on the shoulder.

"Huh?" Crystal blinked and glanced up at him. "Oh! Yeah I'm fine. Just thinking about an argument I've been having with one of my girl friends. Anyway we should get to class,"

Gray blinked, confused. "Right..." That didn't even have anything to do with the conversation they had been having.

Women.

He pushed the door open, and glanced around the room, immediately noting the absence of one specific student.

"Hey," Gray waved at Ms. Shaunasee. "Where's he?"

"Who?" Ms. Shaunasee asked, glancing around the room, until she, too, located the vacant seat. "I don't know, Mr. Perry hasn't shown up yet today,"

"You mean the guy with the red hair?" Crystal asked. "Red hair? Ian, or Irving or something?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Or something," Seems like that's all anyone knew about the guy. What his name kind of, probably, was.

"I passed him when I got here," Crystal recalled, taking her seat next to Gray's. "He was taking the stairs,"

Why would Irv-an take the stairs when his first class was on the ground floor? Gray wandered back to the guy's desk and glanced under the seat. His lunch was there, which meant Irv-an had actually been to class already. Possibly before Ms. Shaunasee, even.

The paper lunch bag buzzed, and lit up.

What the... Gray lifted the bag onto the desk and carefully opened it up. Irv-an's phone sat inside the lunch bag. Buzzing like it was on a self-destruction timer. He lifted the device out and glanced at the lock screen.

Irv-an was getting texts from his father, over and over. He'd missed 82 since ditching his phone, and more were on the way. And, it sounded like, so was his father.

I need you, son. I can't lose you too. Please answer me.

"Mr. Ritcher what do you think you're doing?" Ms. Shaunasee demanded, having turned around to find him going through someone else's belongings.

But Gray didn't even hear her.

Lose you too. The eyes, tears, hormones. Irv-an took the stairs-

"Oh my God, the roof!" Gray dropped the phone and sprinted from the classroom. He shoved more than a couple people out of the way as he blasted down the hall. The sound of his sneakers squealing against the tile floor brought several teens out of their classroom, to watch him fly past.

He threw open the door with his shoulder, and sprinted up the stairs two at a time. Four floors. That's like 60 steps. I got this.

Gasping for breath, Gray shoved his way through the door to the roof, and saw Irv-an standing on the edge of the building.

He looked so lost. So alone, up there on the ledge.

He'd given up, Grayson could see it plainly. He'd been there once himself. And he was going to be there again, soon. When he had to leave this town for good.

"Hey, Irv- uh... bud," Gray called out. "We've been looking for you,"

"Than keep looking," he replied quietly "Because I'm not here,"

"Yes you are," Gray replied evenly. "You're right here, man,"

"I won't be,"

"You will, dude," Gray assured him. "I don't know what you're going through, specifically, right now. But I know that there's someone here who still needs you,"

"There's nothing left here," he sniffed, wiping his face. For a moment, the gesture made him lose his balance.

Gray's heart slammed up against his chest cavity, but slowed to merely a racing pulse when the teen caught himself.

"I'm the girl nobody knows until she commits suicide. Then suddenly everyone had a class with her," Irv-an recited. "Tom Leveen wrote that,"

"People know you, man," Gray insisted. "I know it sucks. You're going to miss them. It's gonna hurt. It hurts like hell. I know. But there's still something worth it here. This world has magic in it, believe it or not," he insisted, then he leaned forwards and reached for Irv-an's hand. "Come down, and you'll still have the chance to see it,"

Irv-an glanced down at Grayson's hand, hovering over his arm. Then he glanced down to the concrete below.

"Let me help you," Gray whispered.

Irv-an took a deep breath, and looked down at Gray, with his tear streaked eyes. "What's my name?"

His stomach clenched. "W-what?"

"I said nobody knows me, and you told me I was wrong," he sniffled. "What is my name?"

Gray swallowed hard. "It's... it's I-Ian,"

Ian stared down at Grayson with dead eyes.

"...It's Micheal," he whispered back.

Then, he fell.

Gray lunged out to catch Micheal's hand, but missed.

"No!" He slammed his palms against the rooftop, and squeezed his eyes shut. Tears pushed their way out of his eyelids, but Gray didn't open his eyes to relieve the burning. He refused to watch.

But he still heard... Yes, he heard it:

Boing!

Gray's eyes shot wide open.

He scrambled to the ledge and chanced a look down to the sidewalk... where Micheal sat, on his hands and knees, staring at the sidewalk. Dumbfounded.

"I-It just..." Micheal touched the concrete. And it held firm. It no longer squished. He bounced. He fell, and it was like he hit a trampoline.

"Magic..." He breathed.

Grayson collapsed, on the roof, physically and emotionally spent. He had no idea what in living hell just happened. And for now... he really didn't care.

He just wanted to go home. However temporary that home was. Invite someone over and lay down.

Gray opened his eyes and glanced around. That chilling feeling was back. Everytime something odd like this happened, he felt like he was being watched.

"What's happening, Mom?" Grayson begged, covering his eyes. "You know. You always knew. Just tell me.

"What the hell is going on?"