Cat Starvos is obsessed with a comedic book series to the point where loses touch with reality. Quinn Basil runs the most popular teen-girl advice blog in the country, which would be fine if his followers knew he was a boy. Christopher Rowan dumped his perfect boyfriend Elliott, leaving him to wonder where they went wrong. Andrew Havon has always stood loyally by his best friend, but when he catches him kissing the girl of his dreams, he's forced to look at their friendship in a rather unsavory light. And Blake Kingsly is at the top of her game being the hottest girl in school. But will a feeble attempt at revenge knock off her own high horse? See how these bizarre and unpredictable characters change each other's lives without even knowing it

I never thought it would end this way, held back by the careless hands of Doogle's brutish mercenaries, on the rotting dock of the Portious Harbor, with the thrashing of the angry white liquescent swells of hydroxide roaring under our feeble, mortal man feet.

"Well, well, well." Spoke Doogle with a sick sense of total, complete, absolute condescending, arrogant satisfaction, and he was happy to. "It would appear our pretty little mole rat has fallen directly in to our pretty little mole rat trap"

I rolled my eyes in disdain toward his vernacular, which was not nearly as elegant, poetic, and melodious as my own. "What will do now Doogle," I inquired, "serenade me with songs of the show tune variety?" Doogle's brow shot toward his much receding hair line.

"That's DOUGAL to you! You ruggedly handsome beast of men."

"Thank you for noticing." I replied, for I was not so modest as to deny a compliment of the up most accuracy.

"Never mind these facts of universal consistencies." said Doogle. "It's time for you, and your...your…"

"Reign of handsome adjectives?" offered one of his burly henchmen.

"Yes!" exclaimed Doogle with zeal. "You and your ridiculous reign of handsome adjectives to come to an end."

I looked in to Doogle's gleaming evil eyes of evil, thinking of the look on his face when I miraculously survived his juvenile plot to forever end my good doing yet again. Little did I know I would do no such thing.

"Now," barked Doodle to one of his many man slaves "Put the mole rat in the box of confinement."

The jiggling of the freezer door shook me out of my "Theseus, the Great and the Terrible" induced haze. I watched the handle wiggle, as panic welled up in my stomach. "Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!" I whispered, turning from side to side looking for a place to hide the stupid book. Moving aside a tub of Chunky Monkey I shove the novel in the back of the freezer just as the door burst open.

"Cat?" Blake, the assistant manager, stands in the doorway, looking inhumanly gorgeous as usual. Tall, slim, tan, long dark hair falling perfectly across her tiny shoulders, what a bitch. "You've been in here for like, an hour. We all thought you were like, hording a dead body or something."

"Uh, yeah well, no cadaver hording in here…just me, and myself…and I." Her eye brows, plucked to perfection, knitted together in an oh so familiar look confusion.

"Whatever, just don't like, freeze to death, or something, or someone's probably gonna sue."

"Need not worry about the death part, but no promises I won't 'or something'" Blake just rolls her eyes and walks out. I breathe a sigh of relief and watch my breath as it builds up a tiny cloud of cold air, and swooshes away. I remember when I was little, and on cold days I would breathe really hard, and pretend I was a dragon. "People probably thought I was autistic." I thought aloud.

I stick "Theseus, the Great and the Terrible" in my front apron pocket, and pushed the massive steel door open to the other side.