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Kojak called as soon as the games ended.
He’d already checked the train schedules and everything. We’d meet in front of the high school at 7:30 the next morning—Kojak (got a buzz cut in fourth grade), Fonzie (said “Whoaaaaaa” unironically once in sixth grade), the Cannon (JV soccer coach complimented a penalty kick), and me, Bean Juice (no one knew why, even the kid who stuck me with it in fifth grade). First bell was 8:23, but we’d tell our parents we had a Spanish club meeting or jazz band rehearsal or whatever.