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"Who's reading a book?" Wally came up behind Chris, having been enticed by the smell of chicken. "Are you guys doing something? Some group thing? Without me?"

*Chris unlocked his room and everyone trooped in. He glanced longingly at the bed and sighed. Oh well, at least he still had fried chicken, mashed potatoes, cole slaw, biscuits.

He began searching for paper plates left over from pizza parties while the others made themselves comfortable. Cassie looked happy to have a book to study. that was good, he supposed, as he handed out the plates.*

Well. This is...nice.

*Freaking Billy. His makeout time had been blown out of the water. Chris was going to open a can of whoopass on whatever was possessing that kid.*

In his brooding wanderings around the campus, Achilles found himself standing at the base of the steps, outside of the one building in the entire school he had the least interest in;

The Library.

Achilles was never much of a reader. That was more the forte' of Patroclus. "Pat" would often read to him, stories written by now ancient authors, and many times poetry as well, while Achilles himself lounged back and listened. Achilles was reluctant to admit that to anyone save his sister and Wally, but he did enjoy poetry. It seemed to be the calm to his savage nature on the battlefield.

Still, there was one thing he had never really asked anyone in this time. Something he was almost afraid to ask, and he was not sure whether or not anyone would give him the honest truth;

How was it Hector managed to kill Patroclus? Why was he, Achilles, not there to fight alongside his beloved? They always fought side-by-side, in pairs. What happened this one time to bring his life crashing down?

After everything that has happened over these past few weeks, it was a nagging question that he now decided needed an answer.

He slowly walked up the steps into the Library...

"Of course he'll come, what else is he gonna do? Sit in our room and do that sadface thing that's driving me nuts. Seriously-"

Wally sat up and put on the grumpiest face ever while squaring his shoulders and puffing out his chest.

"Alas, my dear little friend Wally, but this face is not for my perennial constipation, but it is because I must brood, brood, brood until I can brood no more."

Wally sat back down, proud of his Sadchilles impression.

"He's either coming with us to the dance or I'm going to turn his bed into Mysia's new litter box."

"Couple reasons." Wally was hanging upside-down off the end of Chris's bed now. "One, cuz we invited them to our school dance before Christmas. Two, cuz Sweet C wants a group to go because all of her friends are having stupid relationship drama. Three, because doing so will give me a chance to whisper sweet nothings into Sweet C's sweet ears."

Wally raised his eyebrows a few times.

"And four, because Sadchilles."

"Yeah, hence the just going as a group thing." Wally was tossing Chris's baseball up in the air and catching it while hanging upside down from his bed. "Sweet C gave me the run-down, but to be honest I don't know the rest of her friends that well. Except Cleo. We were in a group together during the Trigon thing. And that girl is WOUND TIGHT. I'm not just talking about her bandages, either."

Toss. Catch. Toss. Catch. Toss. Catch.

"So c'mon, spill, Chris. Why are we all here to read a book? It's not the Necronomicon, is it?"

Short version. Billy's possessed by something. Dark aura...douchey attitude...all the classic signs. According to this Goth jerk from the library, the book will help us. I dunno how. That's why we brought the book here. And we were hungry so that's why we brought the chicken. And Dani was bored so that's why we brought her.

*Chris shoved a biscuit in his mouth before he said something about them ruining makeout time.*