Page 1 of Owen Gardner is Losing It

Chapter one

“Troublemaker” - Weezer

“Does anyone want to share their thoughts about Holden Caulfield’s red hunting hat and what it might represent?” I could almost feel my eyes glazing over as Mrs. Harper droned on about the symbolism inCatcher in the Rye, which I barely managed to finish reading.

Dissecting frogs? I could do that all day.

Dissecting fictional metaphors? No thanks.

Just as I began to feel myself nodding off, I noticed a few people beside me turn their heads toward the narrow window facing the hallway. Curious, I looked up to spot my oldest friend, Xander Pierce, with his face pressed against the glass. His eyes lit up when he realized he’d caught my attention, and he mouthed something even more difficult to decipher than Holden Caulfield’s whiny ramblings.

I responded with a confused shrug, and he waved for me to come out to the hall. It seemed urgent.

Clearing my throat, I faced Mrs. Harper and warily raised my hand. Astonished, she gasped and said, “Owen! I don’t get to hear from you very often. What are your thoughts?”

Shit. “Actually, um… can I go to the nurse?” Someone behind me giggled.

“Is something wrong?”

“Migraine,” I answered, not daring to look at Xander, whose forehead was still pressed against the glass.

Disappointment was written all over Mrs. Harper’s face. “I suppose so.” She watched me gather my things. “I hope you feel better.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled as I hurried past her. As soon as the door shut behind me, I turned to Xander and shook my head. “Really?”

Xander, dressed in his usual attire of all black from head to toe, turned to me with a smirk. “It’s been too long since we’ve done this.”

“Done what?” I asked. A stupid question. Xander just lifted one eyebrow at me–he didn’t have to say it. I knew exactly what he wanted to do.

He wanted to ditch school and smoke outside of Boomer’s, the old-fashioned general store just down the road from the high school. The place was half gas station, half cafe, and besides the assortment of candy, magazines, and pantry items inside, it looked like it hadn’t been updated since at least the 1970s.

Boomer himself was the reason most of us hung out there before and after school. (Or, in Xander’s case, during school.) He was an old hippie and a teenager at heart, and if we came in smelling like weed, he just laughed it off and asked us why we weren’t sharing. None of our parents trusted him, which gave us more reason to look up to him.

I held my English notebook and copy ofCatcher in the Ryeby my side. “I have a chemistry test seventh period,” I told Xander, following him down the hallway. I had to take quick, long strides to keep up with him. “Why are we doing this today, Xan?”

“One, because it’s Friday. Two, because I don’t feel like factoring polynomials right now. And three,” he said, stopping in front of me, “because I fuckin’ miss you, all right?”

A pang of guilt settled in my stomach. Though I’d known Xander longer than anyone at this school, we’d drifted apart in recent years. I had sort of found my place amongst the band nerds and fellow class clowns, whereas Xander became more and more of a loner, picking fights with anyone who dared to look at him the wrong way. We barely had anything in common anymore, yet somehow, I felt more comfortable around him than any of my other friends.

And I knew that if anyone ever crossed me, Xander would have my back.

When we reached the end of the hallway, he turned right instead of moving toward the front doors of the school. “Where are you–”

“We’re taking Abigail.”

Oh, jeez. I wanted to tell Xander that his life would be a lot easier if he would just let Abigail go, but I knew I’d only be wasting my breath.

He led us to the library, where he immediately found Abigail pushing a cart full of books. She smiled when she saw us, flipping her long, red hair over her shoulder. “Oh boy. Do I even want to know?”

As he approached Abigail, Xander glanced at Mrs. Lake, the librarian, who had her nose stuck in a book at the circulation desk. “Come with us.”

“Where?” Abigail asked, bringing the cart to a halt beside us.

“Boomer’s.”

“For what?”

“To blow off some steam,” Xander said, sticking his hands in his pockets. He blinked at her a few times so she’d get the message. “What do you think?”

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