The Lazy Boys Club

I

It's getting chilly. That's what the rest of them say, anyway. I never much minded the cold. In fact, it's hard for me to even feel it anymore. Everything is just... numb.

What do you call a man who has seen it all, but nothing at all? Am I even a man? Nah, I'm a child. Still. Feels like it's been decades. Am I the only one like this? Maybe my friends feel the same. Who's to say. Cold or not, I've always liked the winter. The trees, the blue hue in the air, the ghostly silence in our small town. I loved it.

I've been told there's a lot wrong with me. That's not true, I don't think. What do they know? I'm me. Leave me the hell alone. Let me be me. I ain't hurting nobody. Nobody that matters, anyway. My friends. Few, but enough. I'd never hurt them, ever.

There's seven of us. A quiet bunch, really. We're all juniors at Rodney Johnson High. I'm the youngest. Also the quietest, they tell me. Tyler's seen as the leader of our little clique. His grandfather, Rodney, founded this school some 60 years ago. Both of his parents are dead. Died when he was real young. He lives with his sister, now. She's probably in her late 20's by now.

Michelle Turner flirts with him often. He doesn't reciprocate, and everyone knows why. Everyone except Michelle, anyway. She couldn't take the hint. Her brother, Marcus, was Ty's right-hand man. Marc was pretty chill. Some say he can be passive aggressive, but he's always been nice to me.

Greg Haglet and Cheyenne Walker were the only official couple in the Lazy Boys Club. Some would say they were peak goals for romance. Every time Greg looked Cheyenne in the eyes, it seemed as though they both fell in love all over again. Who doesn't want that? They've been together since the 8th grade. I can tell they'll be together long after Highschool. Everyone can. 

Then, there's me and my brother, Earl. We're twins. Fraternal. We don't look much alike, but you could tell he's my brother. He was born seven minutes before me. He teases me for it often. I don't care how much older you are, your name is Earl, shut the hell up. It may not seem like it, but we don't have the best relationship.

Tomorrow will be the first of December. It's gonna be a Friday. Tyler called our group chat on Instagram this morning, proposing the idea of skipping tomorrow. See, rumor had spread through school recently about this cave just south of town. It was one of the deepest caves in East Rachelwood. Kids at school say if you go deep enough, you'll find ruins of some old underground city or something. Nobody believed it. We just wanted to see cool rocks and shit. 

Everyone agreed after enough convincing. Who knows, maybe there's rare ore or gemstones somewhere down there. Maybe we'd all come back to school Monday spanking rich. We were ready for some amateur cave diving.  A bunch of dumb teens in prohibited ancient tunnels deep underground with three flashlights and some granola bars. What could possibly go wrong?