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“HEY, ALZAR!” A VOICE CRIED OUT, NEARLY MAKING ALZAR DROP HIS BOOKS.

He spun on his heels, coming face-to-face with the student council. Alzar blinked, hugging his French book closer to his chest. He couldn't keep eye contact with them, his nerves overtaking him. Alzar took a precarious step back.

“Yes?” he rasped.

“Are you planning on going to prom?” the student president, Anrea, asked, tapping her painted fingernails against her clipboard, “We're trying to get a clear number to shoot for.”

Alzar shrugged, scratching a sore on his back. “I, uh…” He cautiously gazed at Anrea, who looked normal. The rest of her posse’s movements unnerved him, but she was a welcome relief.

Anrea smiled playfully, “Don't you have a girlfriend to go with?”

Alzar blushed, mumbling under his breath. Heart thudding, he shook his head. He had watched his classmates pair off into couples as the years had passed by, but Alzar was just...confused. He wasn't even sure how he felt about girls.

Once that thought came to light, Alzar felt his throat close up. Were the boys in the locker room right? He had no idea.

“I'm looking for one,” Alzar affirmed, forcing himself to swallow.

His eyes veered from Anrea, attempting to make contact with two girls behind her. They were cute, right?

A surge of nausea shot through his stomach and into his throat. They were staring directly at him, faces plastic, surreal. Alzar slapped his hands over his mouth, shoving past them and darting into the restroom.

----

“Alzar, why are you still here?”

Alzar looked up from his phone, pulling out one of his earbuds and staring at Fancy with wide eyes. “What did you say?”

“It's almost four o’clock. Why are you still at school?”

Alzar shuffled, pulling his backpack closer to his legs. He sat on the same bench outside the school that he sat on everyday, too lost in his music to realize almost an hour had passed. Sariel hadn't arrived to pick him up.

“My uncle was supposed to come and get me,” Alzar replied, his underarms growing wet. Was something wrong with Sariel?

Fancy frowned, adjusting the strap of her purse. “Would you like me to drive you home? It doesn't seem like he's coming today.”

Hesitantly, he stood, gathering his belongings in his arms. “I'd like that, Miss Fancy.”

He followed Fancy to her car, a plain, unassuming vehicle that he climbed into the back seat of. In the passenger seat, he found Judas, leaning his head against the window and crossing his arms. Slowly, his gaze moved from Fancy to Judas. Was he her son? He decided not to say anything about it.

They rode in silence, only broken by Alzar giving Fancy the occasional set of directions. He and Sariel lived in the crosshairs of several rarely-used back roads, even compared to their town, which itself was located in the middle of nowhere.

Gravel spun beneath the tires of the car as Fancy pulled into his driveway, parking in front of the house. Throwing open the car door, Alzar didn't give Fancy a chance to speak. He was thankful for her act of kindness, but embarrassed he had to send her forty-five minutes out of her way for his sake. He couldn't bare to look her in the eyes.

Flustered he had left in such a huff, Alzar turned to wave at her, only to find she had already drove off. Shrugging, he pulled out his keys, unlocking the door and stepping into the house.

Inside, the house was unusually quiet, the kitchen and living room thrown into an eerie, vacant darkness.

“Sariel?” Alzar called, setting down his backpack and shoes by the counter, “Where are you?” It was odd, the television wasn't even on. Sariel kept it on at almost all times, just to provide some background noise in the house while he was alone.

Sariel’s bedroom was dark as he crept closer to it, the hardwood floors creaking under Alzar’s feet. He stepped in, only to find Sariel sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around his chest.

Alzar sucked in a breath. Was he…? Frantically, he took another step back, but the floor groaned, making Sariel twitch.

Sariel turned his head, eyes wide and quivering. “Alzar? Is that you?”

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