I work at a McDonald's, unfortunately. The first job always involved flipping burgers, or so my parents would always promise me, and here I was having that promise fulfilled.

The work environment is pleasant enough. The managers aren't slave drivers, but they definitely put the emphasis on fast food, in the 'you can't take more than twenty seconds to give the customer what they ordered' kind of way. During the breakfast, lunch and rush hours with customers pouring in the front doors and skidding through the drive-thru, this policy was something that the majority of us wish would just bite the dust.

When I'm not at work, doing homework, or spending the night over at Drew's, I like to hang out with my friends over at a Tim Horton's or the local Pizza Hut. There's an unspoken agreement between the management of the latter business and ourselves: as long as we don't get too rowdy or cause too much trouble, we could stick around without having to worry about being a paying customer. Though that last point is a bit moot, since we usually end up buying a slice or drink anyway.

But today was a busy day. After I got off work I found out that the Math questions we were assigned would take me the rest of the night. No fooling around with Drew, I guess. But I'd live. Sex wasn't something I felt I constantly needed anyway.

So instead I slumped into my desk chair and turned on both the computer and my lamp. After an hour of solving math problems in my head and on paper, a beep alerted me to a salutation from Simon.

I supposed that this is an opportunity that I shouldn't pass up. In person, he seemed like the type to be more likely to skip an entire day of school if it meant he didn't have to strike up a conversation with anyone. But right now, Simon was making the first move.

I replied. "What's up?"

"Just got off work. Have to finish up an English essay. You?"

"Doing the Math homework."

"Damn, I forgot that I needed to do that too," he said, following it with a frustrated emoticon. "I'll just have to do the questions about things I have trouble with and skip the rest."

Now why the hell hadn't I thought of that? Here I was doing each and every question, when I could have just been focussing on my problem areas. "What do you have trouble with in Math?" I asked.

Simon rattled off a few equations. It was a long-winded and confusing spiel that had to do with parabolas. "I don't really have too much of a problem with the actual equations, but I can never remember what each one is supposed to be used for."

"Oh yeah, I have that problem all the time," I admitted.

And we continued to talk from there. I found out that as long as I didn't try to pry too much, we got along just fine. He would volunteer more information about himself, too. Simon liked a lot of music from a lot of different genres. Actually I did too, but his taste seemed a bit more extensive than mine. We didn't really like the same movies, though. Give me a comedy over a drama any day.

Then came the time where Simon had to go. "I should be spending this time on my homework instead of talking," he said.

"Wait," I typed. "Do you wanna hang out tomorrow? We could work on our summative, or maybe if you want to just chill out we could go to my place and play video games or something."

"I dunno," he mused, after an extended pause. "I have work tomorrow."

"Well what time do you get off?"

"Late."

"Are you free later in the week then?"

"Er, no, sorry. It's almost a full-time job for me. It's a wonder I even have time to go to school. But either way I don't get much free time to go and hang out."

Well this was interesting. "Why are you doing that? You're just a kid."

"Eighteen and a half isn't 'just a kid,'" Simon said. "It's complicated. I don't really know how to explain it. Either way, I'll see you tomorrow."

He logged off before I could say goodbye, though I expected as much and didn't take offence to it. I was more preoccupied with the little dilemma he had given with his work hours. He was working a full-time job while still going to school. Why?

As I pondered it, the phone in my room rang. I checked the call display and let my mom pick it up, since it wasn't for me. Then it hit me. I pulled up my homepage and went to an online phone directory while struggling to remember Simon's surname. I would just use a regular phone book, but the new ones for the year hadn't come out yet, so it wouldn't have the information I wanted. I clicked on the 'Advanced Search' link and looked at the new page that loaded. Under 'Last Name' I typed 'Hardy,' and for 'First Name' I typed entered 'Simon' into the box.

I wonder. Going through all of this trouble to find out as much information about someone I barely know, just for the sake of curiosity...does that make me a stalker?

The new page took a moment to lead after I clicked the 'Find my number!' button, but I came up with three hits: one for Guelph, Ontario, another for Winnipeg, Manitoba, and one right in my city.

I opened up a new tab on my browser and entered the website for the school board, and cross-referenced the address. It was within the school's boundaries. So this could be the Simon Hardy I was looking for. But why wouldn't his address just be listed under the name of one of his parents? Unless...well, the fact that he's holding down a full-time job would mean he needs as much money as he can get. And why would he need that money?

"You live on your own," I said under my breath.