"It's the forced caring that bullshit," Bigby continued. "Maybe we'd give a damn if they'd let us come to our own conclusions. We're teenagers, man. It's sort of a given that we'll party. Why make it lame by putting 'school' involved."

Bigby really didn't care one way or the other. It wasn't as though he attended any parties outside of school. He was too busy trying to find the biggest, meanest person on the street and stomping their face. Or getting his own face stomped. The latter seemed to happen much more often than the former.

"Maybe I'll go to the Haunted House," he finally conceded. "Where would you even get a real dragon to stick in one?"