Let me guess: you're secretly a wizard who was raised by muggles.

Ninth graders with machine guns: its hard to make that a happy story.

Hand me my pants,

A white van drove slowly—as slowly as only an inexperienced and frightened driver could go—
down San Pablo Avenue. It came to a stop at a distance, and Caine found himself hoping it was
trouble. Trouble he could handle. A fight would be a wonderful relief from the tedium.

Endgame,” Sam muttered, not really expecting Caine to hear.
“Yep,” Caine said. “That’s right. Endgame. The FAYZ barrier is coming down; at least that’s my
bet. But there’s also a ninety percent chance you and me both end up dead. Ten percent chance we
both actually get out of here alive. In which case we end up sharing a cell somewhere.” He laughed.
“Kind of unfair, really, what with me being evil and all, and you just so darned virtuous and heroic.

I had a polynomial once. My doctor removed it.