It was him versus time.

He stared at the computer screen with tired, bloodshot eyes, the dark circles under them making him seem like some sort of demon or ghoul. The words seem to mock him: "Summer Reading Journal--I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou." The rest of the document was blank, a bright white color that made his growing headache worse.

"Ted! It's time for lunch!" someone called downstairs, who was his older stepbrother.

"Not now!" Ted called back. His voice was somewhat hoarse, as if he hasn't really used it in a little while. If it weren't for the croakiness, his would've had a clear, tenor voice ideal for singing. But he hasn't sung along with his iTunes playlist since yesterday before dinner. The speakers had stopped playing Green Day and were playing the Backstreet Boys again, which meant that he had been staring at that bright, painful screen for almost ten hours straight. His eyes flashed to the time on the bottom corner of the screen. 11:37 AM. His stomach protested against his refusal of getting anything to eat downstairs, and instead his hand reached out for an almost-empty bag of gummy bears, popping each one into mouth one at a time.

His small desk was a mess. His brother has respected the fact that he wanted to be alone (their parents were out on an anniversary vacation and won't be back for another week), and hadn't been in the room for a couple days. There was a growing collection of soda cans shoved towards the back, some had fallen, and a couple cups, one which was still half full of orange juice from breakfast a few hours earlier. There were two empty boxes of Cookie Crisp on the ground and a half empty box of Trix resting on his lap. He hasn't been moving much since the day before, only leaving when he needed to go to the bathroom or smuggle a new stash of food and sodas.

He hadn't showered for a few days, and his dirty blond hair (which was usually tied back into a ponytail) was messy, and while half was still in its day-and-a-half old ponytail, the rest was hanging down his shoulders or back. He scratched the back of his itchy head, causing more hair to come loose, before rubbing a tear that had managed to escape one of his dark blue eyes when he yawned for the umpteenth time for the last hour and a half.

He was shirtless, and his skinny arms and torso were tense and the muscles sore from sitting in the same position for so long. His black-and-blue plaid pajama pants were practically hanging off his butt, while his Spongebob boxers were showing in all its glory.

"C'mon, Ted!" There was a knock on the door. "You've been in there for two days straight! If you need help with your summer reading assignment, I can help you!"

"I don't need help," he mumbled. He looked over at his Bikini Model calendar. A couple days until school starts.

It wasn't just him versus time, it was him versus Plot Development, him versus Character Development, him versus Relevance of the Setting…

Another knock on the door. "Theodore! Seriously, take a break from your assignment and shower or something, or at least take the dogs out for a little. They're really starting to get on my nerves."

"Go 'way!" was his answer. One of his fingers explored the keyboard before resting on the home keys once more. It's no big deal that he decided to take Honors English this year instead of the sped class like he did the last two years. He knows how to summarize books…it's just that he's having a hard trying to find a set plot line in I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. In every chapter, something different happens, which was what irritated him. He just can't smush it all together into a ten-sentence paragraph like he could do with other books.

He flinched when the door opened, and a brown-haired young man peeked in. "Jesus Christ, Ted, you really need to get out." He was nearly knocked over when two large Black Labs rushed into the room, jumping onto Ted excitedly. With a yell, the blond found himself on the brown carpet with Trix all over the floor and the two dogs practically sitting on him.

"Bo, Gina! Get the frick off!" While he had a little wrestling match with the oversized puppies, the brother had wandered over to the computer and examined the one sentence that was on the screen while turning down the speakers.

"Ted," he said, tapping the glass screen with his college notes, "you do know that I can help you. I read that book and did a whole report on it in my Senior year."

Ted had stopped struggling and stared at his brother stupidly before grabbing a pillow from his bed behind him and throwing it at the green-eyed college student, nailing him right on the head. "Kaori! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"You didn't give me a chance to, retard." Kaori threw the pillow back at Ted before helping him up. "Now go get a shower. You smell like an ape that went through the sewage system and back."

"Not until I get this stupid thing done," Ted grunted, almost sounding like a whine. He plopped down on the computer chair and proceeded to stare at the screen again.

"You're not going to get it done by staring at it." Kaori held his hand out almost demandingly. "Lemme have that assignment sheet."

Mumbling something under his breath, Ted fished through most of the papers and pushed aside the soda cans until he found the assignment, smacking it into his brother's outstretched hand. "You wanna help, then summarize the book in ten sentences."

Kaori shook his head, looking over the paper. "The assignment is to not summarize it, it's to summarize the plot development."

"What's the difference," Ted grumbled, though he knew that there was one, and that it most likely be harder than just summarizing, period.

"Summarizing plot development means that you have to point out the initial situation, conflict, rising action, climax, falling action--" He was cut off by Ted's loud and miserable groan.

"Ugh! That's beyond my thinking range! What the hell!"

"Well, it really isn't that hard…"

"Stop being so smart!" Ted groaned again before slamming his head against the desk.