You remember the first time you really realized you were fucked up. You were five. First year of kindergarten, miserable as all fuck. The teacher told the boys to line up on one side of the room and the girls on the other. You don't even remember why. You just remember the result.

Beyond that door is a boy Sid has skated with six times, and spoken to twice. He’s a year older than Sid is, and drugged out of his mind on Bonding agent.