[i]Splash![/i]

The chilled orange juice soaked into his shirt and dripped all the way to his pants. The glass then tipped over, spilling the remainder of it's contents on his tray, ruining his food. Giving it a glare of disgust, he turned his cold eyes down towards the offending person, a spray-tanned bimbo. Containing his venom, he kept his face cool, despite the mess she had created by ramming into him.

And then he opened his mouth.
"S-Sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going!" he apologized, smiling and waving off the incident. Putting his tray down on an empty spot, he assessed the damage done to his shirt, all the while discreetly sizing up the girl. He recognized her, she was in his afternoon classes, but he didn't know her name. However, with this reassuring information, he was at least positive that she was, in fact, another idiot high school girl and not someone targeting him.

"At least it's lucky I still have my gym clothes with me! No harm done." he called over his shoulder, readjusting his bag and going to the boy's bathroom. There he changed out of his wet shirt, rung it out, and stuck it into his bag. Alone in one of the stalls, now, he took another cigarette, to cool his nerves. Honestly, this was the childish world he had to put up with. The one had had been putting up with for more than six months. It hadn't been hard getting a fake identity set up, but it was difficult keeping it together.

Taking another puff, he felt the vibrations of his burner cell, along with the tell-tale music of the Macarena. Groaning, he wanted to simply ignore it, but he could use a distraction right now. Flipping open the phone, he answered.

"What is it, Jules?" he snapped irritably.
"Hey, did you find the old lady's cat?" came a chipper and excited voice on the other end.
"Yeah, under a bush. Tell her to keep her damn pests inside from now on, I'm tired of crawling through peoples gardens."
"Great! How much did you get?"
"Ten. And no, I'm not sharing it. I need to buy a new pack or two today."
"Yeah yeah, that's pocket change compared to this case! Listen, Mr. Gonji's-"
"Oh god no, the crazy fish guy? The one who goes on and on about Hiroshima and Nagasaki?"
"Yeah, that one! Listen, he-"
"No, Jules."
"But you haven't even heard-"
"I don't need to hear it. I'm not going on some fucking goose chase for a crazy ex-sushi chef!"
"But Aleeeex!"
"No. And even if I would, I'm full today. I still have to find two credit cards, a house key, and a Buzz Lightyear doll."
"But man, this is really important-!"
"Bye, Jules." he said curtly, hanging up and snapping his phone shut. Shit, that hadn't helped at all. What he needed was a stiff drink. Perhaps he could snoop around and find out who was throwing a party. He was moderately popular, and chances were there would be somebody flaunting their parent's liquor cabinet.

Exiting the bathroom, he went back into the lunch line, greeting all of his "friends". Alex Middleton was a well-liked boy with no enemies, did his homework on time, got good grades, and helped his community as a small-time detective. And it was important to keep up this appearance, at least for the next couple of years.
And his "hard work" of keeping up a thriving social life did pay off. He got to know almost everything that people would share from social media, gossip, and the school's paper. Including word that someone was having a house party that night, with "everyone who was anyone" being invited. He smirked to himself. Perhaps pretending to be a child wasn't so bad after all.