Overcast

2.8

Charlotte gives out Ted's name, and Willow takes good note of it. As fifth period arrives, the girls part ways, heading to their separate classes.

As students scramble not to be late, one girl in particular couldn't care less. She sits in a stall in the girl's bathroom, listening close as the late bell rings. As classes get underway, the bathroom and halls go quiet. Rachel sits on the bowl with the seat down, rifling through her pockets looking for something. She fires up a cigarette, her hand no longer bandaged from the wound she'd received from Willow. Rachel likes to skip class. She may have made up with Willow, but that doesn't stop her rebellious ways.

She puffs on her menthol smoke, idling away time in the old bathroom. Rarely does anyone come in here, and if they do, they don't dare rat out Rachel Krantz. Rachel is to girls what Craig was to the guys, only Rachel is less physical. She'd rather taunt her victims than initiate violence. She's considered one of the bad chicks; taller than most girls, and even some of the boys. She wears a charcoal tank top with ripped blue jeans, accenting her short brown hair and dark eyes. After awhile, Rachel tosses the cigarette butt in the toilet, leaving the stall as she heads for the door.

Along the way, however, a nearby wall catches her eye.

Rachel tilts her head, spotting an odd discoloration in the gray brick building. Where the gray meets the white, some of the white parts appear splotched with red. None of the gray is painted this way, but in certain parts, the lines between bricks are covered in crimson. Rachel cringes, running a finger across its surface. It's dry, having a rough, flaky feel. "...The hell?" Rachel says to herself. She doesn't recall seeing this before, and she's spent a lot of time in this bathroom. The girl gives a shrug, leaving the room moments later.

At the other end of town, Dave sits on a hill near his spot by the church. The weather is half cloudy, the sun occasionally poking out through the overcast sky. Dave stares at the bleak horizon, finishing up some stale bread. He found it on a bench in the park, sitting in a sealed plastic bag. It was probably meant for the pigeons, but Dave took it anyway. As usual, he was starving; he had little choice. As the boy looks up at the sky, a pair of footsteps approach from behind.

"Nice view, isn't it?" a man says. Dave jumps, quickly turning back. "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone you're here." The man takes a seat on the grass, staring out at the vast horizon. He's a young man; too young to be the pastor Dave spoke with. He appears to be in his mid twenties with short blond hair and a beige polyester suit. "You must be the one father was talking about. Dad runs this church. Told me all about you. What's your story, man? You homeless or what?"

Dave falls silent, slowly looking away.

"Can you talk?" the man asks. Again, Dave says nothing. "...Well my name's Pat Zilbermints. I'm a preacher at Primrose Church. Worked here for seven years, for better or for worse. I started here 'cause the old man wanted me to. But, to be honest...I'm living a lie."

Dave gives a pause, watching the man stare into the distance. "You see, I'm an atheist. Have been my whole life. I'd never tell dad, of course; it'd break his heart, not to mention he'd probably disown me. Thing is, I just can't bring myself to believe, ya know? I mean, you see so much bad stuff in the world. War. Famine. Plague. Homelessness," Pat says, giving Dave a glance. "What kind of god would allow all that stuff? God is supposed to be all powerful, right? So if he has the power to stop these things, why doesn't he?" Pat asks, sounding perplexed. "...Ah. Sorry to bore you with this. I just had to get it off my chest. This stays between us, eh?" Pat asks, getting up. As he heads back for the church, Dave stares down at the grass.

"...Original sin," he mutters quietly under his breath.

"...What's that?" Pat asks, slowly turning back.

"Original sin. The devil tempted man with the fruit of knowledge and won," Dave says. "That separated god from us. That's why he won't stop the bad things. He's angry with us, I think..."

Pat gives a slow smile, scratching the back of his head. "...Heh. That's right. It's been so long, I nearly forgot the details, myself. Looks like you know the good book better than I do," he says. "Still, I just can't bring myself to believe. I mean, there's other religions out there in the world, too, and they all just seem to contradict each other. So what? Are they all just flat out wrong?" Pat asks, heaving a sigh.

"Anyway, enough with this religious talk. I know it sounds weird coming from a preacher, but I'd say I spend enough time yappin' on about this. Here, kid. It's not much, but buy yourself a hot meal or somethin'," the man says. He approaches, handing Dave a twenty dollar bill. Dave pauses, suddenly finding himself tempted. As he's about to take the cash, he stops, slowly turning away. Pat smiles. "...Rather earn it, eh? I can respect that," he says, putting the money away. "Well if you ever change your mind, do stop by the church. Our doors are always open. Maybe we can even help you get back on your feet," Pat says, taking his leave. As Dave watches him go, a gentle breeze wisps through the trees.

Back at Crenshaw High, the final bell sounds as students get ready to leave. Ted wanders the halls with a smirk, eyeing his phone as he heads for his car. He arrives at his old jalopy: a 1994 Honda Prelude. The car's a faded green, and has about a million miles on it. Its previous owner sold it for $300; all Ted could afford from his job at Taco Bell. He gets into his car, putting the keys into the ignition. After several tries, he curses, finding the engine won't start.

"Aww, shit," he says in disgust. He gets out, popping the hood and taking a look inside. He stares blankly ahead at the vehicle. He knows as much about cars as he does about treating women right. He slams the hood back down, immediately dialing his phone.

"Yo. Uhh...mom?" he says stupidly. "I need a ride home from school. My car's broken down."

"What?!" Misses Emmersley says. "I told you not to buy that old hunka junk!"

"Yeah, yeah. Can you gimme a ride or not?"

"Hell no!" she replies loudly. "My show's about to start! And besides, you reap what you sow, boy. I told you that car wouldn't last, but you went and bought it anyway. Now get walkin'! It ain't that far, anyhow."

"What?!" he says, hearing his mother hang up. "...Fuck."

Ted sighs, starting his long, lonely trek home. He leaves the school grounds, hitting the sidewalk next to the road. He heads further and further west, passing some homes before eventually reaching a remote area. The sidewalk steadily turns rougher and rougher, filled with cracks and large potholes. Ted eyes the pavement. It's in worse shape than he remembered. He used to take this path to and from school, back before he got a car. Suddenly, he pauses, remembering a shortcut through the woods.

He leaves the rugged sidewalk, entering a small dirt path leading into some trees. Before long, he finds himself in the woods behind his house. He and Lester used to play here when they were younger. In the summer it was fun, but come fall and winter it's a graveyard of snow and dead leaves. Ted continues on, the occasional twig snapping underfoot. It's just under a mile to his house, and the old dirt path is one he's traveled many times before.

As Ted continues through the woods, a rustling sound comes from behind. He quickly turns around, spotting a thicket of bushes swaying back and forth. As he watches with bated breath, a creature suddenly pops out from the underbrush. Ted heaves a sigh, realizing it's just a raccoon.

"...Stupid little shit," he spouts at it.

As he turns back around, he finds a dark silhouette standing before him. Before he can react, a blunt object strikes Ted clear across the face. He drops to the ground, immediately going unconscious.