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have strong teeth and can chew through concrete, cinder blocks, glass and aluminum. If they can’t chew through something, they can squeeze themselves through a hole the size of a quarter. They can live pretty well anywhere on Earth because they are extremely adaptable and make good pets. They don’t live very long though. Usually just a year or a year and a half. An adult female rat can have thirty-five baby rats a year. This apparently is because rats have a lot of sex. Up to twenty times a day. No lie.
    They sleep a lot. Up to twenty hours a day. But when they are awake, they are very busy. One website argued that we unfairly label rats as dirty and dangerous and that we should learn to be kind to all rats. Sure, they were involved in killing half of Europe with the bubonic plague and other diseases, but it can be argued it was the fleas on the rats, not the rats themselves. And, like it or not, wherever there are humans, there are rats. So let’s just figure out a way to cohabit with our hairy, horny, ambitious rats.
    Above all, I kept reading that rats are survivors. Floods, earthquakes, volcanoes, war, even nuclear bombs. The rats survived. And, apparently, we have underestimated how smart rats really are.
    I looked back at my masterpiece rat admiringly. It was only nine o’clock, and I was feeling fidgety. Oh, yeah, craving for a smoke. Big-time.
    I stared straight into the eyes of my Manga-like rat. “Don’t do it, dude,” he seemed to be saying. “Stay focused.”
    Right.
    So I took out a simple white T-shirt, the kind that my mom likes to buy me. I opened a drawer of my desk and took out the set of one hundred colored permanent markers she had given me for Christmas. I looked at my T-shirt, and I looked at my rat. “Do it, dude,” he seemed to say.

Chapter Eight
    I started wearing my rat T-shirt to school. I wore it under my shirt so no one actually saw it. I don’t know why, but I felt better when I had it on. Stronger. So I made a few more. Different characters, different rats. All with the large intelligent eyes and big sharp teeth. All variations of rats. All variations of me, I told myself.
    I thought things were cooling down at school. It was back to being dull routine as far as I could tell. So, like a good rat, I just stayed low to the ground and tried not to be noticed.
    But then Emily told me that Amanda had transferred to another school. Marissa was thinking of doing the same. “They’re both a mess,” Emily said. “It wasn’t just the photos. It’s what people wrote as comments about them. A whole lot of lies posted by creeps who can remain anonymous. There’s a hell of a lot of people out there who just want to hurt. And it’s not just a few creepy guys. I don’t get it.”
    Emily looked really concerned, really worried, but I had a feeling there was more to this.
    â€œThis stuff will just follow them both to wherever they go.”
    â€œI know. And once it’s out there, it just gets reposted all over the place.”
    Now she looked even more worried.
    â€œWhat?” I asked.
    â€œNothing.”
    â€œBullshit.”
    She looked at me and then down at the floor. “Craig’s doing it to me now,” she said in a weak little voice that was not her style at all.
    â€œDoing what exactly?”
    â€œAsking for ‘special favors’ or he and Liam will give me the same treatment.”
    I was furious. I had lost my focus, been drifting along thinking things would improve, believing the problems would fade and go away. “They can’t do that,” I said.
    â€œYou’ve seen what they already got away with,” she said. “And they’ll get away with this too.” And then, more sheepishly, she added, “But maybe I can talk them out of it.”
    â€œYeah,” I said, getting even more steamed. “If you agree to whatever those assholes want you to