tarquin foster || district six || cb || fin

It's funny how things work - I'm one of the club's youngest, yet the latest nickname I've gotten is "old man." I blame that weird old man from the district square, the one who said I looked like I was thirteen going on thirty (completely unsolicited, mind you!) and Dale was close enough to hear and ha ha, now I get to roll my eyes and pretend to laugh along because the rest of em think themselves comedians. But I suppose it's a nice break from being called chicken. Chickens aren't even that bad of an animal, so why is it used as an insult?

People always look at me weirdly when I tell them who my friends are. And I suppose it is weird, because they're wild and carefree and I've been told I've got a stick up my ass and my nose is perpetually stuck in books and whatnot, but I don't really see how that correlates? Like yeah they call me lame because I don't like being outside all the time and I call them stupid because one of these days their stunts are gonna get someone (read: me!) killed again but we're pals, the lot of us.

"But you can always find other friends!" the grownups chide. "They'll do fine without you!"

Okay, maybe, but Tommy's gone and Flynn was almost gone but now he's back and I just know that the rest of the club is going to try and further their claims of invincibility and I'm going to be left running behind cleaning up their messes as usual. But I don't mind, not really. They're my friends, have been since the beginning, and I'm honestly not sure what I'd do without them.

'Sides, someone has to try and keep those dumbasses in line, anyways. And it sure as hell ain't gonna be Dale.