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crisp Tuesday morning. He sensed the right moment was inching its way closer to fruition. It was “Senior Week” and there had been a bunch of pep rallies and lots of excitement about the upcoming senior prom. Critter didn’t give a rat’s ass about any of it. He thought it was one big ruse to keep the students pre-occupied and far away from the truth. The only reason he bothered going to school was to keep an eye on Mona. Someone had to because Tim Daniels, the special prick of a lacrosse player she had been dating for the last three months, wasn’t going to do it.
    A car pulled up behind Critter, almost nicking his skateboard.
    “Get out of the road, dickweed!”  
    Since upper class wealthy types were the only people who could afford gas, Critter suspected it was good old Tim Daniels. He’d been driving Mona to school the last few months and dropping her off late at night. Critter stood in the middle of the road and stared up at the sky, stretching out his arms and breathing in the cool morning air.
    “Glorious day today,” he said to the sky.  
    “Move it, Prepper!” Tim yelled, pressing down on the horn.  
    Tim drove a bright red 1965 Mustang Convertible. Though the car was sixty-three years old, the thing was in mint condition and shined like a waxy apple. Mona sat in the passenger seat, wrapping a pastel pink scarf around her head to keep her long red hair in place. After all, it was “Senior Week” and she had appearances to keep up. Critter did not. He removed his Rockies baseball cap and turned around to get a good look at Tim’s annoyed face. He enjoyed egging on anyone from the idiot squad.
    “You think I’m afraid of your punk ass? I’ll run you down, Prepper fag,” Tim shouted over the revving engine.
    “You don’t have the guts,” Critter said.
    “You little son-of-a-bitch,” Tim yelled, revving the engine some more.
    “Oh, stop it, Tim.” Mona swatted his broad shoulder like a mother would do if her son were acting up. She looked at Critter and smiled. “Hiya, Critter.”  
    “S’up,” he said with a wide grin.  
    “Just heading to school. Big day today. Pep rally and all,” she said.  
    Critter wasn’t sure, but he could’ve sworn Mona’s cheeks blushed.
    “Cool.” He ignored Tim, who was turning shades of purple.  
    “Wanna ride?” she asked.
    “What? No way. No Prepper is getting in my ride,” Tim shouted.
    “I wouldn’t get in that car if it were heading to the Promised Land.” Critter put his cap back on and moved off to the side to let them drive by.  
    “Screw you, Prepper.” Tim spat a loogie toward Critter, which fortunately missed him.
    “Idiot,” Critter mumbled, watching as they sped off down the road.  
    Tim and his lacrosse buddies could laugh themselves empty over Critter being a Prepper. But while they were being shipped off to the gas chambers, or wherever that phony war was sending them, Critter would be living somewhere safely tucked away in the Rocky Mountains––with Mona. He was a man with a plan.
    ###
    In the gymnasium, Critter spotted his fellow rapscallions. John, Trevor, and Dave were perched in the last row of the bleachers, keeping their distance from the other students. They had a running joke that stupidity was contagious. Critter sat next to Trevor.  
    “You might need this.” Trevor passed him a flask.
    “Where’d you get booze?” Critter took a nip. It had been months since they had access to any alcohol and he had forgotten the burn. He coughed, handing back the flask.
    “Snuck into the principal’s office. Keeps a secret stash in his bottom left drawer.” Trevor winked.  
    Trevor had been to the principal’s office so often that he had every inch of the place memorized. Critter looked down the bleachers to the freshly waxed floors, where the cheerleaders, in their yellow and blue uniforms, were lining up to start the rally of balderdash. Mona stood smack dab in the middle of the pack, shining brighter than