Amson, 17, "Setting the Stage"

"Augh..." I groaned, fishing for some small spurt of motivation as I lie in my bed.

Today was the day, the time where we actually made the party a reality. With my sister also in my corner, our odds were still in a grey, fluid area, the outcome of our efforts still completely shrouded in mystery. Still, seeing Baun's hope when it came to the party was almost inspiring; I couldn't just sit around and force him to fetch people for a party at my house.

The only thing was, it was already the day before we're supposed to throw it, and we've set up a collective nothing for the numbers Baun is expecting to yield. No food, no space, and, as I stated when he first suggested this idea, no hook that would make Butcher Cross kids to even consider coming.

Without drugs and whatnot, I think it's safe to scratch about 80% of seemingly potential candidates off. That way, we'd at least save ourselves some time. As it stood, we were already in a clutch situation, and in order to make this party worth the trouble, we'd better find some way to get people to come.

I sat up, shaking my bedhead until my hair drooped before my eyes, nearly tickling the end of my nose. I brushed it back, yawned, and began climbing out of bed, my feet inching toward the shoes that lie just below. However, once my feet touched what I'd thought were my shoes, they instinctively flinched, feeling a sensation I'd never felt before.

Whatever I'd just touched was rough, long, and moving, and too scared to look, I went in for another love tap, my life's biggest mistake.

///

"Keep your pets out of my room, Lore!" I yelled, carrying a somehow continuously sleeping python.

I stood in front of Lore's room, trying to hold the thing, but it was heavier than I could've ever imagined, not to mention hard to grab. I slammed my knee against her door until she finally cracked it open, seeing only a glimpse of her hands before she snatched it away.

"I don't control where Dixie decides to sleep." She said, keeping the door cracked. "Anyways, I think you should be grateful she likes you. Else, you'd have been breakfast."

It was hard to be flattered by something that looked like it was hungry even when it was sleeping. Though I hated her tarantula, it, at the very least, stayed inside her room. I could only hope that Lore brought this one back with her to college.

"Fuck you." I said, firmly closing her door for her.

///

"Leave those invitations to me." Baun said. "Our best and only tool, at the moment, is word of mouth."

Baun and I walked together, speaking as PE came to a close. Both of us were covered in sweat, stink marinating in our gym uniforms.

"How can you be so sure about that, though?" I asked. "We can't put all our chips into some gamble."

"Believe me. Things spread, and they will. Asking everyone individually all day would not only exhaust the time we have but make us look insanely desperate."

"I guess you're right, but I still can't get behind that idea. How could we make sure the shit spreads?"

"Trust me. I'm an expert. For now, let's just worry about those people that wouldn't be affected by the spread. Got any folks in mind?"

I thought for a second, bringing me to only one logical answer.

"Yeah." I said. "Let's meet after school. I'll show the way."

///

"Woah, woah. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting, today?" Tyriq joked, extending his arm for a handshake.

The pit was quieter than usual, likely because it was during the week. Still, there was a healthy amount of hype surrounding the pit, noise echoing through our conversation. In his usual attire, Tyriq looked nearly eye to eye with Baun, and I could sense the atmosphere change. It was no question that with that hand extended, Tyriq was sizing up Baun, and Baun just stood there for some reason, as if doing the exact same.

Both were my friends for a long while, yet they'd never met even once. I don't think I've ever mentioned Tyriq to Baun.

"The name's Baun Halm." Baun finally reciprocated the gesture. "Pleasure's all mine."

Tyriq seemed surprised to receive a legal name, the number one taboo in the pit.

"I'm guessing you're not here to get in the pit." Tyriq pondered, folding his arms. "What brings the both of you here? It's rare seeing you on the weekdays, Wheels."

"Well, actually--" I started, but Baun interrupted me.

"We wanted to invite you to a party at his place." He said. "Seven o'clock tomorrow's the time."

"Your place, huh?" Tyriq suddenly kicked up his board, deep in thought. "Give me more details, and I'll be there. Sounds like fun."

"I'll give you my number." Baun suggested, prompting Tyriq to pull out his phone. "You're from the eastern edge of Dutchman, correct? 687 area code?"

That line made Baun sound like some mob boss.

"Yep." Tyriq swiped through his phone, unfazed. "You can call me Biz in the pit, weenie-- short for Streetbiz. I'll talk more over phone, but for now, I'm itching to get back to the pit-- the reason I came here. I'm sure I'll be seeing ya'll around. Later."

Just like that, Tyriq was off on his board, vanishing into the crowd surrounding the pit. Baun seemed satisfied, a smile seeping onto his face as he watched Ty leave. He nudged me, pulling the both of us toward the exit as the crowd hollered behind us.

"How come you never introduced me to that guy?" He said.

"Never got the chance." I responded. "He goes to Cayman, anyways."

We walked for a small while longer, Baun's car finally in sight. The sound of it unlocking echoed throughout the seemingly barren neighborhood, planting a ringing in our eardrums. I looked up at Baun once more, the look on his face unchanging.

"Did he rub you the wrong way?" I asked, worried.

"No, no. Not at all." Baun spoke with a strange, newfound respect. "I liked the look in his eye."