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person who had a higher score than you did in ‘Screw the Bunny?’”
    “Scoobie? That’s you?” For the life of me I couldn’t think of his real first name. Scoobie and I had hung around a lot in eleventh grade. I wasn’t sure why he was allowed to stay out so late, but I had been glad of the company.
    “Yep, it’s me. I saw you were back.” He grinned. “You look almost the same, except for the preppy clothes.”
    I automatically looked down at my blue Dockers and cotton sweater of blue and yellow that showed under my unzipped jacket. “This is not preppy, it’s…stylish.”
    “Stylish, preppy, take your pick. You look good.”
    It was a simple compliment, and I felt myself flush. It seemed almost wrong that I lived in comfort and he couldn’t afford new shoes. “Gee, Scoobie.” I wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m going to Java Jolt. You want to join me and get caught up?”
    His hesitation was brief. “You get it, and bring it outside. It’s warm enough.” He turned and waited for me to walk the few paces to him and we fell into step.
    We walked in a fairly comfortable silence, but my thoughts were anything but comfortable. Where had Scoobie been the last ten years? How did he end up with what looked like all his possessions in a knapsack? When we had traversed the hundred yards or so to Java Jolt, I turned to him. “What’s your pastry preference?”
    “I like their blueberry muffins.” When I started to push the door to enter, he added, “Decaf with cream, no sugar.” This was a change. In high school, Scoobie had lived on high-voltage soft drinks.
    As I approached the counter I was conscious that Joe Regan was looking at me very directly. “You know him?” he asked.
    “We went to high school together. I haven’t seen him since then.” I busied myself fixing the two cups of coffee and ordered two blueberry muffins.
    Joe continued. “He’s been in and out of rehab. Be careful.”
    I felt annoyed at the advice, but tried not to show it. “Thanks.” I paid for our food, and added, “I never thought of Scoobie as dangerous.”
    Joe shrugged. “Probably not. As far as I know, his only arrests have been for using and selling pot.” He grinned as he gave me my change. “I hear it was good stuff.”
    Swell. I slipped the handle of the small plastic bag of muffins over my wrist and picked up the coffees. “Not that you’d know,” I threw over my shoulder.
    Scoobie opened the door for me and took the paper coffee cups. “Thanks. Let’s go to a bench over there.” We walked on the boardwalk for about half a block and settled on a bench across from the small store I’d browsed in just before meeting Pedone.
    “So, did Regan tell me to keep away from me?” he asked as I indicated which coffee was decaf.
    “Not exactly. He said to be careful.”
    Scoobie peeled the paper off a muffin and took a huge bite. He chewed and swallowed quickly. “Probably not the worst advice you’ll ever get, but I don’t think you’ll need it.” He grinned. “I’m reformed. In fact, it’s rare that you’ll see me raiding garbage cans these days.”
    “I didn’t know you needed to. Reform, I mean.” I watched as he continued to eat, noting that even though his appearance was ragged his nails and hands were clean. “We used to goof around, but we never did anything really bad.” He said nothing as he tried to peel the plastic tab off the small opening on the coffee lid so he could take a drink.
    I sipped my coffee and regarded him. “You could have stabbed me under the boardwalk any number of times, but you didn’t.” I smiled at him.
    He grew somber. “You were a good friend. Don’t you remember, hardly anyone would talk to me in school?”
    “You know, I don’t remember that. I guess, gee, I guess I was too busy thinking of my own problems.”
    He nodded. “You’ve just defined adolescence—the certainty that your own problems put you at the center of the universe.”
    I peeled my