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seemingly trying to one up each other with adventures of forest parties, getting off with boyfriends, girlfriends and the usual idiotic behavior. It was the same old crap—a real freak show, Travis told himself.
    Twisting the combination lock and taking in the same sickening smell of the worst place on earth, he was greeted from behind by a familiar voice.
    “You know, I can get into those too.”
    Travis’s head turned in the direction of the source.
    It was his best friend, Ryan Logan. He stood there grinning, wearing his usual solid olive-green military jacket with gold buttons and a worn ranking patch on the arm, dark T-shirt and stonewashed jeans. Travis had known Ryan for as long as he could remember; their mothers had placed them in the same preschool. On the surface most would have written him off as a loser. His report cards would always say the same. He lacked motivation, could try harder and had little potential; but Travis knew it was just a front.
    “Hey, man, glad to see they finally let you back in.”
    “What were they going to do?” Ryan smirked, leaning against the lockers. Ryan had been temporarily suspended for hacking into the school’s computers, swiping test files and changing his own grades. No small feat, but he thought he could get away with it. Only problem was, he gave himself A’s in every class.
    “Hey, check this out.”
    Ryan took out his phone; Travis groaned, knowing exactly what was coming before he even saw it. Ryan was in the habit of recording himself during gameplay and sending it to the opposing players to taunt them. Get them all riled up. He said it livened things up. It was always the same. A video of him in the game level and another with the camera facing him in the corner hooting and hollering like a kid jacked up on too many energy drinks.
    Travis grabbed a few books. “Man, you really need to get out more,” he said. “You should come out on the track with me.”
    “No way, risk breaking this”—he circled his face with his hand—“doing those crazy jumps? I’ve got the ladies to think about.”
    Travis chuckled. “What ladies?”
    Ryan was the only kid he knew that would pine after the girls, get shot down and keep going back for more. He said it was a numbers game, like the lottery, and any day now he would be holding the winning ticket.
    “Got wind of your little escapade,” Ryan said. “Kind of sloppy, but nice.”
    “Well, let’s say it didn’t go over too well with—”
    “Well, look who’s back.” A voice cut him off. Travis turned to face a group of seniors. It was the goon patrol.
    “Back so soon from your tour of duty?” the guy asked, lifting the silver dog tags that loosely hung around Ryan’s neck. He turned to the others, still holding the tags. “The great hero returns, well how about that?” Smiling, he turned back towards Ryan, slipping an arm around his neck and smoothing his shaggy hair.
    “Please,” he said, “forgive our manners, you deserve a hero’s welcome—hey, boys?”
    “Oh, I think so,” one of them said, before cracking up, while the others jeered.
    “Give it a rest, Deagan,” Travis said, slamming his locker shut.
    Deagan Kaine stared at Travis, tilting his head to one side. “Oh, feeling a little left out, Marshall?” he asked in a childish tone. “Oh, I get it, you’re still bitter about Thunder Valley.” He and the others laughed, knowing full well the topic was a sore point, a sure way to get him riled up.
    “Well, I think we can accommodate you,” he said, looking full of himself.
    “Really? That’s exactly what I told your mom last night,” Travis shot back.
    Deagan turned to the others and briefly curled his lip, before throwing Ryan to the floor. Travis sprang into action but Deagan was too fast. He gripped him around the neck and slammed him up against the lockers. His feet strained for the floor, his toes dangling inches above the ground. Travis tried to knee him in the groin as Deagan