Wednesday with Quinn was all business, although, honestly, I expected it to be. We dealt with bio, although Quinn did ask me a couple of questions about Mr. DiMartino's history class. I wasn't as helpful in that subject. Quinn had been extremely attentive in that class, and thus, I didn't bother learning it as much because I didn't think she'd need the help. I told myself to review it next time.

Quinn also didn't ask me any questions like she did during my first session, and I was thankful. It was weird enough that I had no idea what I'd do after high school; someone asking me questions was giving me a coronary, even if it was Quinn who was asking me.

But I think the sessions went well. I brought over flowers when I had came and she was thankful, although she seemed happier to see me then the gift. That was a good sign; that was a great sign. As much as I loved getting Quinn gift, they did stretch my wallet a bit.

I was high-flying all week, and man, did it feel good. I aced Barch's test, snuck a B out of Mr. DiMartino's pop quiz, and, when Mr. O'Neill assigned our first essay on Wuthering Heights, I was all ready for it. I couldn't take it too seriously, though. Mr. O'Neill had a very bad habit of announcing to the world and it's mother when people did well at things. Although Quinn might not mind it, someone else probably would. Jamie, Joey, or someone on the football team would probably take offense. Our first game was starting soon, and Homecoming was three weeks away. I hadn't been paying attention to practice much, but our team was doing decently and messing up that synergy with rumors could make things go downhill.

Surprisingly, I didn't care much about that. I was not Kevin Thompson, whose only measure of success was football, but I had friends on the team. Not as close to me as Joey and Jamie, but I liked working together with them and we had parties every so often together. Not to mention my father was a lot tamer when our team was winning.

After a rather tough practice and quick weight training at the gym, I was ready to head back home and get cracking on my essay. Us three guys had decided we were going to head to Mackron before Homecoming, since we'd be pretty busy that whole week, and I wanted to make sure I had nothing to worry about when I left.

Before I headed home, though, I was stopped by Coach Stevenson.

"Jeffy, come in my office." He had instructed. Coach Stevenson was a very odd one. He was a gym teacher, although I had never had him during my time at Lawndale. He was dedicated to the game, that much was certain, and he was of the opinion that all other things were subordinate to it. This was encouraged by our school's principal, Ms. Li, who was obsessed with gaining prestige for the school. I couldn't count the number of under-the-table deals were worked out to attempt to keep the team playing all the time. I never needed one myself, although I had come dangerously close a number of times.

On the other hand, he was actually a very pleasant individual who often showed great concern for me, as well as for the other team. He was one of the few who knew my father was a drunken lush, although he only knew that because I had blurted it out during my sophomore year. And he sympathized with me. Coach Stevenson was the one who told me that I was me, and I didn't need my father's approval if he spent his nights completely sauced.

"Yes?" Although I was certain he was just going to give me grief for skipping out on Wednesday's practice, I tried to play dumb anyway. Sure enough, he had asked me about it.

"I was..." I briefly considered lying. No one knew yet that I was tutoring Quinn. I hadn't told anyone, and Quinn was certainly keeping things under wraps, so I could easily get out of things by claiming sickness.

"Well, I'm just trying to get my grades up." I told him. I'm not exactly sure what I was thinking, telling him this. Did I want him to encourage me, say the supportive words my father would never say? Or did I want someone to validate what I was doing, tell me it was the correct path? I wasn't sure, and it made me nervous.

Coach Stevenson didn't say anything for a moment.

"Are you grades low?" He asked me.

"They were." I replied. It was true. My average before this year was a C minus, if I rounded up the decimals. Practically everyone else on the team had similar grades. Report cards were months away, but I knew I'd be doing better then that. Only our captain had ever gotten high grades. But Mad Mack went to every practice and every game. Coach wouldn't have cared if his grades were low or high since his dedication was proven.

"You concerned about college or something, son?" He asked.

"A little." I replied. With all that was on my plate, I hadn't started thinking about college until Quinn asked me the questions. But it was in the back of my mind now. Originally, my plan was just to get a scholarship and go to a Division 1 state university, but I doubted those plans now. I didn't want my life to be such triteness.

Coach Stevenson leaned back in his chair.

"Try not to miss practice, son." He told me. "You're one of my star players this year."

"Oh, you don't need to say that." I replied. I didn't mind if people praised my football skills, but when Coach Stevenson did it, it felt, well, more sincere. It made me feel like a little kid praised by his parents for coloring inside the lines.

"I mean it, Jeffy. I saw how you rallied the team to pick Joey as captain over Kevin, and that kind of rapport is good for morale. And, like I always say..."

"...Morale is key to everything." We finished at the same time. That was what had made me nervous about doing what I did this year; our team might suck if they thought me egotistical.

"Do you think it was a good choice, to pick Joey?" I asked him, trying to turn the attention away from my grades.

"You mean because the team thought it should have been you?" Coach Stevenson replied.

"Yes, sir."

"Joey's got a decent enough head on his shoulders. He's got a good tactical head on his shoulders.." The coach didn't answer my question, although he probably thought he did. I decided not to press it.

"I should be going now." I told him. He dismissed me. I don't know if I felt better or not telling the coach the truth. I knew he wouldn't talk about it with anyone, but he didn't criticize me for it. That was a good sign. Possibly.

The next week passed by pretty typically. We started our first game with high energy. The team we were playing against had poor guard against rush plays, and Joey caught up on that. He initiated quite a number of running plays, and, with superb blocking from Jamie, the right tackle, we managed to win the game 28-10.

This was great. Now our trip to Mackron would be full of good cheer and high spirits. We'd even canceled trips up there because we had lost games. Jamie, in particular, always seemed to take losing harshly.

School itself was uneventful the next week. There was lots of buzz as various clubs got set up for the school's Spirit Week, the precursor which led to Pep Rally. Sports teams, though, did surprisingly little in regards to that. We were playing; our spirit was proven. The other clubs needed to show pride, not us.

Mackron was about an hour away, on the state line. I think Joey used to have family there, but they moved away a while ago. However, during his time there, Joey had met someone who really liked him. She was a Vietnamese woman, emigrated from the country after the fall of Saigon. I couldn't pronounce her name correctly, even though I tried very hard. She wasn't angry about it, though, and told us to call her "Iris," as that was what her name meant in her language.

Iris had done various sorts of odd jobs when she came to the States, but eventually she set up a very popular bar that was often frequented by the nearby colleges in the area. She made killer profits every night, and always had good music playing. Although Joey never told us the story about how the two of them met, she knew all three of us, and liked us a lot. She even caused us a Vietnamese word that she told us meant "my sons." It was this friendship that allowed us to get into her nightclub, free of both cover charge and the need to have ID. We'd still have to pay for drinks, of course, but these types of nights could never be had without a fake ID, and they had a host of other problems. I knew quite a number of people at Lawndale who were busted for having those.

Our routine for the trip was simple, at least it was for me: I only brought a toothbrush and toothpaste. That was it. I didn't need to tell anyone about the trip, not that my father was around to notice, or sober enough to care. If he asked, I'd just tell him I told him before where I went. He could never remember what happened the previous night anyway. I'd walk to Joey's, who had the best car for making such a trek. Once all three of us were ready, we drove out, book a hotel room, then went to the club before it opened. We'd help Iris set the place up for the evening's customers, and then she'd let us in the service entrance once the night got started so we could get past the bouncer. Once we were inside, no one bothered to check ID.

"Hey guys, have you guys noticed Quinn recently?" Jamie asked once we were on the highway.

"Yeah, of course. We notice everything about Quinn." I returned.

"I mean how she's been acting. She's been becoming a brain or something."

"A brain?" I protested. "Come on, Quinn wouldn't do that."

"I'm serious, guys. I asked her for help on my English essay, and she agreed. And when she talked to me about it, she really knew her stuff."

"So?" I posed. A perfect deflection for his concerns.

"You think someone's been tutoring her again?" Jamie asked.

"No way!" Joey was the one protesting now, although he still kept his eyes on the road. "Quinn wouldn't do that during the school year."

"But what if she is, guys? Quinn won't have time for dates anymore." I turned away to face the road, so the guys wouldn't see me laugh. So they finally caught on, although they had no idea Quinn's true tutor was right under their noses.

"What difference does it make. It's not like they're dating or anything." I shrugged as I spoke.

"What if it's some pervert looking to get close to Quinn?" Jamie asked.

"You say that about everyone Quinn meets." I returned. "But we're worrying for nothing. If Quinn wants to learn, let her. It's hot."

"Everything she does is hot." Joey agreed. Jamie let the conversation drop, although now I was the one starting to think. He was none too pleased that someone was with Quinn like that. And if he found out it was me, what would that mean? He would never accept that I was closer to Quinn then he was. Would he break up my relationship with Quinn? Or worse, would he say our friendship was over?

After reaching the hotel room, we drew straws to see who'd be sleeping on the couch, and Jamie lost.

"Heh, karma." I thought. It was still early, so we went and got some pizza before heading to Iris's bar around 6.

"Nó là con trai của tôi!" She cheered when she let us in. I didn't know Vietnamese, but I knew what this meant. She was calling us her sons again. It always felt nice to hear that.

"Good to see you." Joey hugged her affectionately.

"Talk later. Get to work, lazy boys!" She ordered in broken English. The bar was Iris's sanctuary, and we were not allowed to touch it, but there were stools to clean, tables to wipe down, the floor to mop. It was a lot of hard work getting a bar open each night, and I wondered how Iris did it all by herself each night. Maybe she had other kids like us for different nights. We were quiet as we got the place ready. These forays of ours were boys's nights. There were no fights, no talks of Quinn. The world only consisted of us three and the bar. They were so important to each of us that even Quinn could not stop them. I remember, one time last year, when Joey decided to not take Quinn on a date because we had planned one of these nights.

We were let into the bar around 11, when the place got a decent crowd. Jamie bought the first round for us; and I milked him for what it was worth by getting a rum-and-coke double. Joey decided to cut a rug with some girls from a nearby community college while Jamie and I quietly nursed our drinks for a bit.

"Hey, are we allowed to dance on the bar?" A slightly tipsy college girl asked Iris as she placed her glass on the bar. Iris shook her head.

"It was worth asking." I chuckled at her. She laughed at me.

"You're not dancing." She returned

"Not a really good one." I laughed again, taking another swig of my drink. "But I'll dance with you, if you want." Without even waiting for an acceptance, I got up from my stool and started dancing. I really wasn't a good dancer, but I knew to rock my shoulders and shake my butt a little to the rhythm, and that was enough for her. I never asked her for her name; I wasn't interested in doing anything with her more then dancing, and I probably would never meet her again for the rest of my life, and it didn't matter to me. My gloomy thoughts about Quinn and Jamie were disappearing because of her, and that was all I needed her for. We danced for about twenty minutes, and I returned to my bar stool. Jamie was still seated, drinking, although another girl had pressed her ass to his back and was shaking it. Jamie was getting into it, dancing from his stool.

"Having a good time?" I asked. Jamie nodded, although he was a bit more somber then the two of us when it came to our nights in Mackron. I gather it was probably about his parents; must have been tough to go home to them every night. At least I could ignore my useless father.

"Yo!" I heard Joey call over to me. He had his arm around a college-aged girl with short strawberry-blonde hair. Not as cute as Quinn, but definitely a hot little number.

"Guys, this is Ruby." Joey's speech was slurred, and I gather he had gotten some more drinks already. Or maybe I was just a slow drinker.

"Hey." Ruby was as drunk as Joey was.

"Hey, we're going to call it a little early tonight." Joey told us, and I stared at him like he grew another head. He was going to leave with some girl? On our boy's night? I suppose there was no rule against it, but it was the strangest thing that had happened all year. Even stranger then we learning bio.

"Hey, whatev." Jamie seemed nonchalant. "Just make sure you're ready to leave when we have to get back tomorrow."

"I know, I know. Hey, say goodnight to Iris for me." Joey walked, half-supported by Ruby, out the door.

"That was weird." Jamie stated. I agreed, although I didn't want to talk about it now. The music was too loud, and I didn't want to think. I had enough to think about already.

"You need another?" Iris came over and noticed my empty glass.

"Yeah. Hard stuff. Bourbon on the rocks, please."

Jamie and I drank and danced with some girls until about 1:30. Mackron was a small enough town so that everything was close enough to walk too, and we reached the hotel in about 15 minutes of walking. When we made it up to our room, the first thing I noticed was the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door of our room.

"All right, Joey!" Jamie cheered. I tried to hush him, although I was pretty impressed too. There was only one reason why that sort of sign would be on the door: Joey had come back to the room with Ruby and had sex with her. He was the first one out of all of us to score a touchdown.

"Think we should go in?" I asked Jamie. He nodded. Joey left around midnight, so the two of them were probably done by now. I opened the door. The room was dark and quiet. I told Jamie to hush again as I made my way into the room. I noticed Joey was asleep alone in one of the beds. Although, from the clothes strung around the room and the smell of the perfume I could remember Ruby wearing, I think I had known what happened here.

"Hey, dude, I got Iris to give me some beers to go." Jamie reached into his pockets and pulled out some bottles of Bud.

"You want?" He offered. I declined, I was too sleepy. I chuckled briefly to myself as I got ready for bed. Perhaps it may have been the booze, but it was still a little unbelievable that Joey managed to score. And I knew exactly what things would be like tomorrow. He'd be talking about it on the ride home, every squishy and X-rated detail would be ours to savor. It would be his badge of honor. And I'd listen. After all, I didn't plan on being the only virgin at Lawndale. I was waiting for someone special, though. Waiting for Quinn. It was pretty cool of Joey to just screw randonly like that, but it couldn't compete with being Quinn's first. Cute as Ruby was, she just wasn't Quinn.

I woke up with a hangover, like I usually did whenever we went to Mackron.

"Wow. That was some night last night." I was able to get up without feeling sick or the room spinning, so I probably didn't go overboard last night like Jamie did. He was still dozing off on the couch, empty beer bottles around him.

"Like Dad." I thought briefly, but I dismissed the thought. Jamie was not my dad; he was considerate and friendly, and at least the bottles were stacked neatly on the table, rather then strewn around on the floor.

I turned around to Joey's bed, and saw it empty. I wondered where he was for a brief second, but then I noticed the bathroom door was open and the light was on.

"All right, let's go over and hear the victory stories." I chuckled quietly as I moved to the bathroom door. I took a quick peek inside, and saw Joey standing at the sink, looking into the mirror. I started to call out to him, but I hesitated. There was something...off about him. I couldn't put my finger on it at first, so I ducked away from the door so I could peer at him stealthily.

Nothing seemed off at first glance. His hair was a mess, but he probably just hadn't showered or combed it yet. He had quite a bit of sweat on his forehead, which wasn't odd considering his excursions last night. But there was something about his entire body that made me pause. His forearms were resting on the sink, and his posture slumped as he was regarding his own reflection. He certainly didn't seem happy with himself. Then I saw Joey wash his face. His back was to me, but when I noticed his reflection, I noticed that the whites of his eyes were red and puffy.

"Had...had he actually be crying?" I thought. After washing his face, Joey started washing his hands, lathering soap in his hands and scrubbing up to his elbows.

"When were you such a germ freak?" I thought. This was weird. After he washed his hands, he regarded his face in the mirror again. There was a quiet pause were nothing happened. Then I saw him slam him arm into the sink.

"Ouch." I thought. I saw Joey's head move, and I quickly ducked away, not wanting him to see me eavesdropping. I heard him start to move out of the bathroom. Thinking quickly, I grabbed the first piece of clothing I could find; Joey's shirt. When he exited the bathroom, he saw me rummaging around the room for clothes.

"Didn't know you were up." Joey said to me. I stood up to face him, trying to act innocent.

"Morning." I said to him pleasantly. I made no mention of what I saw in the bathroom, or how absolutely crappy he looked.

"Have you been up long?" Joey asked, almost in fear.

"No." I lied. "I just got up. Hey, you seen my shirt? All I could find was yours." I handed him his shirt. Now that I was closer to him, it was clear to me that he had been crying recently. Joey paused for a minute, but then he seemed to perk up a bit.

"Check under your bed, dude. But I call the shower." He fished around the room for his pants and went back into the bathroom. I heard the water fire up a moment later.

As I waited for the shower, I thought glumly about what happened to Joey. He had just went all the way with a hot chick, and she didn't even seem to want to stick around for love and respect in the morning or all that other after-school special crap. He had the perfect opportunity to brag to me about it, tell me all the details only someone who'd done it would know. And he didn't. He pretended like nothing had happened. Sex was anything but nothing.

"So, why were you crying in the bathroom?" I thought. It didn't make any sense to me. Part of me wanted to ask him what was bothering him; I certainly didn't want my best friend to be upset. Another part of me told me to back off. I had never had sex before; I wouldn't know what advice to give to make him feel better.

And a third part told me I had no right to prod. I kept my own secrets. I was quiet about Quinn, quiet about my desire to learn, and, most importantly, I was quiet about my fears regarding the two of them. I didn't want my two best friends to think less of me because I wanted to learn. It sounded trite in my head, but Jamie did not have a high opinion of brains, and Joey's was even lower. I didn't want to lose my weekends in Mackron, my Tuesdays at the arcade. Even our fights over Quinn were precious to me, no matter how many bloody noses I got.

"You got involved with Jamie because you were there at the restaurant. Plead ignorance, it's the only way." It seemed the only course of action open to me. But I still felt bad as Joey exited the shower.