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What happens when your best friend wants to go to the school that you had learned to forget, yet you help with the interview and you’re the one that ends up getting back into the school? Chaos.

"Oliver! Oliver! Wait up!" Sophia called, running down the hall of their local high school pushing passed the other students blocking her way to catch up with her best friend.

The boy that she had called to, stopped his slowly moving feet to look over his shoulder to see who had dared to stop him in his pursuit to his next class, a scowl plastered onto his face. His day was already not going well, if the ketchup and mustard stains on his favorite Flyleaf shirt and the dried mashed potatoes on his dark blue jeans with the heavy smell of baroque sauce hanging around his form was any constitution. His face barely changed from his deep scowl to a lighter one seeing as who was coming his way.

"You look like s**t. And-" She leaned forward on her feet to sniff at her best friend. "You smell." Was the first thing the dark skinned girl stated when she finally reached him. He let a snort come from his throat as he started on his way again. "Is that potatoes in your hair?" The girl asked, pulling on the boy's arm so that they were pressed against a set of lockers much to the couple next to the two friends disappointment. Finger tips ran through the shaggy, razored, dark red hair atop the boy's head, feeling the crusted over food. "Oh my god! It is! What happened to you, honey?" Sophia finally asked, her gray eyes questioning. She had never liked her natural eye color so she bought contact lenses with every paycheck that she received from her job at the local greasy pit, or rather the diner in town.

"I probably have that dried on me somewhere too. And I don't need you to protect me." Oliver commented as he broke away from the latino girl to make his way to the classroom just a few feet way.

"Oliver!" The girl whined. "You have to stop making such a high profile! They would leave you alone then!" Her voice continued with the whining as the boy gave a sigh.

"What high profile! And thanks for taking up for me, Sophia. I feel so much better that my best friend told me just to stop doing what I'm doing, which I might add is nothing! To keep from getting beat up. I think they see me as an easy target since I claimed myself a pacifist in English class." He explained walking through the door, the middle aged teacher giving Sophia a confused look as she entered with the red haired boy. She had already passed this coarse.

"I'm sorry love. Its just so much easier to tell you what not to do then-"

"What am I doing! Nothing! I am minding my own business when I could be telling everyone who is cheating on who, who is copying homework and test, who is taking steroids on the football team, who is getting high in the boy's bathroom, who is having sex on Mr. Lloyd's desk!" He exclaimed making a few of the other early students give him an interested look. The black haired girl tried to 'sh' him as he went on his rant, pulling up an empty chair, and finally putting her hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. Oliver moved the girl's hand away from his mouth, placing his elbows on the desk and resting his forehead on his hands. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong!" The tanned boy spoke almost sadly.

"I know love, I know. But this isn't the reason I wanted to talk to you." He peaked out of his hands, letting his light brown eyes trail to his friend's fakely colored ones. "You know that art school that they have in town. You know the students that always go to coffee shop where you work? Well its going around town that they're going to have auditions for new students and be giving scholarships away to go to their school!" That was one of the good things about Sophia working at the grease pit, all the town gossip was known and spread there, the red head guessed it was one of the bad things as well though.

"We were talking about my f-ed up life, and you are telling me about your ticket to fame!"

"Miss Lopez, you should get to class now. The bell is going to ring in a few minutes." The teacher stated from the head of the classroom, already getting the assignments written on the white board for her next class.

"Of course, Mrs. Manning!" Sophie called to the front of the classroom. "Just think about it okay? I want you to help me with my routine for the try outs." She leaned forward and whispered in the still pouting boy's ear.

"Yeah, whatever." Was his reply, his head still held in his hands.

"Hey Benji!" The cheery girl stated, waving a hand at the boy whose seat she had taken.

"Hey Sophia." Was the reply as the seat was once again occupied but the chair pulled over to sit behind the desk. "Hey Oliver." Came a slightly nasally voice from beside him, where his best friend had sat while talking him during passing period. He peaked out from his hands again to look at Benji Cross, one of the well known nerds in the school. Messy brown locks hanging around his face, a few strands falling over the new silver framed glasses that he was so proud of getting last week, t-shirt tucked into his blue jean pants. "You look like s**t." The glasses kid stated taking out his note book for their 4th block class, receiving a snort from the other boy.

"Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Benji." Oliver was one to get along with anyone. One of the nicest people in the whole school and all the girls in his class had crushed on him at least at one point since he moved to this school in the 8th grade. He wasn't well built, just your average teenaged boy, not like the ones that tended to use him as a stress reliever. His crimson hair had always made him stand out in high school seeing how there was only two people with the hair type.

"No problem." The kid stayed, reaching up to pick at one of the blemishes on his pale skin. "I have an extra hall pass if you want it, so you can go try to clean up some more. I have a tube of Tide To Go, in my locker. Maybe your shirt can be saved." This caused the red head to let his lips curved upward slightly. Maybe his day wasn't going so bad, with people like Benji around that is. Screw Sophie and her dreams! Benji had a bleach pen.

"Thanks Ben! You're the best." Oliver stated, straightening his back and bringing his head up from his hands, reaching one of them over to except the pass and a slip of paper with the other kid's locker number on it. His words made the pale cheeks flush.

"No problem. I know you would do the same for me." Such a well used phrase without life, which most of the time wasn't true. Oliver raised his hand into the air, waving it slightly to get the ranting teacher's attention as she went over what a horrible class they were.

"What is it Mr. Walsh?" The question came with a sigh.

"Can I go to the bathroom? I have a pass." He held the laminated paper in the air, so there would be no question about it. There were a few snorts around the classroom and a few sighs, thankful that someone had brought the teacher's attention away from them at the moment.

"Very well. But try to use the restroom between classes. That is what the five minutes is for. And right after lunch, you have 15. Use your time more wisely Mr. Walsh!" But the red haired boy was already out the door and down the hall as the last words left Mrs. Manning's over worked mouth.

Oliver stuck his hands within the pockets of his nameless brand of pants, his cheap knock off shoes squeaking on the polished floors of the hallway. The sound more noticeable now than when the halls were filled with other students their endless babble almost over powering any other sound. The teen boy pulled out the slip of paper with the other boy's locker number on it, and began to look around at the rows and rows of the puck green lockers.

"A 5. Where is locker A 5. I see T 7, T6, T5. Damn it. Its all the way on the other side of the damned school." He stated to himself as he headed off in the opposite direction, going to take the short cut through the band room. "Why does he have to have a locker all the way over here?" Oliver started mumbling to himself, as his hand turned the knob on the large sound proof door, pushing it open to allow the strong noises inside to drift out into the hallway. He rushed in, quickly closing the door behind him, trying to keep the noise out of the hall. His ears were already ringing with the blaring sound of trumpets and tubas, not to mention they had a new piccolo player that kept squeaking like no other and that was adding to his quickly forming head ache.

"Oliver Walsh! What are you doing in here?" Called the music teacher, Mrs. Miller. She was an elder lady, most of the students didn't know how she handled the band sessions during school, in fact most of the teachers wondered that as well. Brown eyes quickly scanned the room for a moment, looking at the faces of the students trying to find an excuse for coming here. Basil's eyes landed on the face of Kenyon Clark, trombone player.

"The office wanted Kenyon! They called my class instead and sent me to bring him there since they knew that by the time you knew the phone was ringing it would be too late." The red head shouted his excuse over the loud noise of the room. The graying teacher nodded her head and walked quickly over to the dark haired trombone player. He was of Asian descendant and he made the perfect emo kid and was one of Oliver's best friends along with Sophia. Black razored hair falling to his shoulders covering one of his dark brown eyes, his finger nails painted in a rainbow was the only thing colorful on his body, unless you count the bright red barbell embedded into his tongue, thick eyeliner outlining the oval shaped eyes, skin tight long sleeved black shirt hugging his form along with the darkly colored pair of jeans that came from the girl's section at some clothing store that he had dragged the red head to. Some people had even thought he was a girl and asked him out on dates.

Oliver made his way to the opposite door, having his hand on the knob as the other boy walked over to him, his slim hands going to rest within the pockets of his girl jeans with the tears in them as it was the style, though he wore black and white stockings under them so people wouldn‘t see his skin. The two walked out of the room, the red head giving a sigh of relief.

"The office didn't want me did they?" Oliver shook his head with a smirk.

"Nope. Just felt like getting you out of class. And I need to find-"

"Benji's locker." Their parents were friends since they were born so it was only natural that they clung to each other, and were now able to finish each other's sentences.

"How did-"

"He's the one I browed the tide-to-go pen from before. So I know he has it. Come my friend. I will lead the way!" The Asian took a hold of Oliver's arm and started to drag him through the hallways of the school.

“So are your parents going to let you get your bellybutton pierced?” The red head asked getting an aggravated sigh from the other boy.

“No! They don’t understand me at all! I tried explaining to them the reason behind it but they wouldn’t hear it! So I told them I was just going to go slit my wrist because hell must be better then here.” The dark haired boy finished with a nod of his head. Oliver only shook his head as they stopped at the row of lockers that held his savior, the tide-to-go pen.

“And let me guess they let you go to your room and slit your wrist, and I’m now talking a ghost, because they have yet to kind your decaying body.” Stated the Flyleaf fan as he opened locker A5, spying the pen at once. He reached his hand up the metal to take the life safer from the door and opened the cap.

“You have me so figured out.” Kenyon stated as he put his hand to his chest watching as his friend got rid of the stains that were some of the reason for his foul mood. “So Sophia defend your tormenters again?” The boy asked innocently, making Oliver send a lopsided glare at him. “Guess so.” The emo boy hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans along side the silver studded belt. “I think you should just drop her on her a**.” That received another small glare from the honey brown eyes. “I’m just saying you were perfectly happy with just me as a best friend. Less people picked on you then, too.” The red haired boy let out a snort.

“See that’s what I don’t get.” He put the tide-to-go pen back into Benji’s locker and shut it. “I hung out with you more then, and you look like a girl, no offense.” The other shook his head. “And I get picked on more now when I’m hanging out with an actual girl. Someone that acts their gender.” Oliver throw his hands up in the air. “Oh god! Why do you torment me so?” Kenyon watched his friend for a moment with a raised eyebrow, then busted out laughing, holding his sides as he bent in half.

“Oliver.” Kenyon gasped after he had stopped laughing, making the other boy look at him and lower his arms from above his head. “I don’t think god has anything to do with it.” Kenyon reached his hands out and ran his fingers through the red mane atop his friend’s head. “I think its this right here.” He stated smiling, making the other boy raise an eye brow, the two friends were the same height, though Oliver had been taller then Kenyon throughout their life. Kenyon’s face wrinkled as his finger met with the dried food particles in his friend’s hair. “That’s so gross. You should just go home.” Oliver just gave him the look before pulling his head away from the other’s hand and leaning against the lockers behind him.

“I can’t. Mom would throw a fit.” Kenyon joined him against the lockers, raising one of his eyes brows. Oliver’s mom worked at home as a writer. She hadn’t had an best sellers but she was well known enough. Plus she was overly protective of her only son, seeing how he was the only child she could ever have. “Remember the last time I went home early with chocolate cake everywhere?” Their cafeteria was known to have something special once a mouth besides the canned peaches and cardboard pizza that they served.

“I remember. She came up here, without you, and started yelling and screaming to the principle about how they needed to discipline the ‘troubled youth of America’ because her ‘little red haired angel’ was getting his clothes stained and torn, and his hair needed to be cut to get the crap out of it.”

“Yeah, and it took the principle, the superintend, the vice principle, and the school board to calm her down enough so that they could talk to her. Yet all the students got was-”

“Detention for a week.” The two friends finished together, looking each other in the eye before laughing for no good reason other than to laugh.

“I should, I should get back to class.”

“Yeah. You have Manning now don’t you?”

“Yeah, and she was giving everyone an ear full when I left. I feel sorry for Benji. I left him in there all by himself and took his only hall pass.”

“You’re evil.” Kenyon brought his shoulders together, and hunched forward as his bent his elbows up to his chest. “Ebil I tell you! Ebil!”

“Probably. Now we both have to get back to class or else someone is going to get you without a hall pass, mister skipper!” Oliver stated as he pushed off of the lockers he was leaning on and walked back down the hallway, Kenyon on his heels.

-That Afternoon-

“So are you going to help me or not?” Sophia sat across from the two best friends as Oliver sucked harshly on the straw to get the strawberry milkshake out from the glass cup. Kenyon had his arms crossed over his chest and was leaning close to Oliver protectively.

“We’ll go with the ‘or not’ part.” The asian stated matter of fact, making the red head look up at him for a moment before pulling away from the straw.

“I’ll help.” Oliver almost sighed, as his childhood friend sent him a glare. The dark skinned girl squealed from the other side of the table.

“I knew I could count on you Oliver. Unlike some people.” She directed her comment to Kenyon who glared right back at the girl, prompting a staring contest between the two. Oliver only rolled his eyes and went back to the never ending battle to at least taste the milkshake that he had ordered.

“Oliver! How can you help her? She gets you into trouble!” Kenyon whined, his arms going to wrap around one of his best friend’s arm.