Maps by Nash Summers

happened to slip out of his hands and give someone a nasty paper cut.
    At first, Maps had no idea what he was looking at.
    Well, that wasn’t true. What he held in his hands was a map, obviously, but he had no idea why Lane had given him a map. Carefully, making sure not to tear anything, Maps unfolded the map and when he finally saw what it was his jaw dropped.
    Literally dropped.
    His fake goatee, somehow sensing Maps’ abnormal shock, decided to make a break for it and flutter to the ground.
    But Maps didn’t care. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the map he held in his hands.
    It was a map of their city, a current one from the same year. But what made this map special were the highlighted marks all over it. Lane had found every single lane on the map that lead to Maps’ house, and highlighted each one of them—Pemberbrooke Lane, Teller Lane, Kensington Lane. They were lit up like little yellow veins, all leading back to Maps’ house, which was colored over in highlighter with a smiley face.
    And in the bottom corner of the map, right next to the legend, was a hand written note.
     
    If you ever get lost, just follow the lane, and you’ll find your way home.
     
    “I’m going to hurl. I swear to god, Maps, I’m going to barf all over you,” Benji said.
    Maps snapped his head up and looked at his best friend. He hadn’t even noticed that Benji had returned from his trip to toss his body off a cliff.
    Then Benji began making vomiting noises, sticking his finger in his gaping mouth. “Seriously Maps, that’s like something from a chick movie.”
    “Shut up,” Maps said, but huge grin refused to leave his face, no matter how hard he tried. Not that he tried all that hard.
    Maps very carefully folded the map and tucked it neatly into the back pocket of his jeans. Benji must’ve noticed the smile on Maps’ face and the way he handled the map, because he decided to be extra annoying.
    “Oh god, you two are going to adopt little babies and name them Avenue, Street, and Compass, aren’t you?” Benji whined.
    “You do remember that my real name is Matthew and not Maps, right?”
    “Who’s this Matthew you speak of? Never heard of him, but he sounds like a goober. Anyway, Maps, I have no idea why Lane would be interested in you. I mean, did he even get a good look at my petals? They are ah-may-zing !”
    Benji put his hands on his hips and began to strut in circles around Maps.
    Maps watched his best friend prance around, trying not to laugh. He took the map out of his back pocket and began running his fingers along the folded crease.
    He didn’t know why Lane had given him such a touching gift. Maybe he was just trying to say thank you for the tutoring help that Maps had been giving him, or maybe he meant to as a token of friendship.
    Well, whatever the reason behind it, Maps knew that of all the things he had on his wall, this map from Lane was going to be his favorite.
     
     
     
     

Chapter Six
     
    “Maps!”
    Maps shot out of bed like a fish suddenly thrown into a bucket of water with a toaster. He glanced over at the clock, noting that it was a little past midnight. Before walking over to the window to see what Lane was screeching about, he took his glasses from his bedside table and planted them on his face. Maps figured it was Lane—no one else was crazy enough to climb up the side of the house and call out his name in the middle of the night.
    “What is it?” Maps said in a hushed tone as he lifted up the window so Lane could crawl through.
    “We won,” Lane announced after climbing through the window. He put his hands firmly on his hips and tilted his chin up as though he’d just been knighted.
    Maps folded his arms across his chest. “What did you win? The lottery? The Nobel Peace Price? Something from a cereal box?”
    “Better. We won the first baseball game of the season!” Lane cast his hands into the air like one of those flailing balloon men car dealerships put in their