{"id":739,"date":"2021-05-25T18:27:54","date_gmt":"2021-05-25T18:27:54","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/?p=739"},"modified":"2021-06-03T21:38:07","modified_gmt":"2021-06-03T21:38:07","slug":"fishbones-book-i-chapter-2-wheres-your-boyfriend","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/2021\/05\/fishbones-book-i-chapter-2-wheres-your-boyfriend\/","title":{"rendered":"Fishbones Book I \u2013 Chapter 2: Where\u2019s Your Boyfriend"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

\"\"Illustration <\/span>by Eyugho<\/span><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

Science was one of Ferris\u2019 favorite subjects, though the class itself was not one of his favorite places. The room itself was fine. An analog clock above the blackboard ticked lazily as the instructor wrote the day\u2019s assignment with determined clicks of chalk. The man was intelligent\u2014likable, even. But the boys sitting to the right of Ferris\u2019 desk were a bit less intelligent and much more unlikeable. Despite their run in with an angry man wielding a shotgun a few days before, they continued to eye him like a piece of meat.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris was focusing so intently on his notes that he couldn\u2019t read them. Stares and snickers competed for his attention, louder and more urgent than anything else in the room. He could remember the moment this started, only a few weeks ago, before an exam. Paul had been the one who approached him in the hallway.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSo, if you get a lower score,\u201d Paul had said. \u201cThen the curve would make everyone\u2019s grade higher, and you could still get an A.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris had stared back at the boy for a full five seconds before giving his answer. \u201cWhy don\u2019t you just study?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

This response had been Ferris\u2019 first mistake.<\/span><\/p>\n

His second mistake was back in the present\u2014turning his head when one of them whispered his name. He\u2019d barely looked at the boy before a folded paper football made a field goal between his eyes. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOw<\/i>.\u201d Ferris hissed, putting his hand to his face as the trio exchanged high-fives. He peeked up at the teacher through his fingers. The man was still writing, his back turned to the class. Ferris could feel his ears growing hot and was so taken with his own embarrassment that the sound of the school bell startled him. Books shuffled into bags as his classmates stood to leave. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cPussy,\u201d one of the boys said as he walked past, sliding Ferris\u2019 notebook, along with all of his exceptional notes, to the floor. By the time the room cleared out and he was able to pick it up, there was a black shoeprint over his scrawls about Punnett squares. He sighed, looked up at the ceiling, and snapped it shut.<\/span><\/p>\n

#<\/span><\/p>\n

The boys\u2019 bathroom was his last stop before leaving school for the day. Ferris slouched in front of a mirror. He pushed up his glasses with one hand, rubbing the red spot the paper football had left with the other. At his side was another boy, one leaning much too close to the mirror as he checked his teeth from different angles. Apparently satisfied with his smile, he turned to leave Ferris alone with the urinals and sinks.<\/span><\/p>\n

The door didn\u2019t close behind him.<\/span><\/p>\n

A hand caught the edge, holding it open as three new bodies entered the stage. In the mirror, Ferris could see his peers from science class coming up behind him. They all either had uncannily synced bladders, or had followed him.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris\u2019 eyes locked on Rudy first. His classmate was tall and sported a towheaded buzz cut. Paul had longer, darker hair. It hung loosely around his face as if he were a movie star and not an awkwardly proportioned high school boy. Zach was forgettable, the type you could talk to for half an hour and not recognize the next day.<\/span><\/p>\n

Each of them belonged to relatively distinguished families, giving them the impression that they could get away with pretty much anything. In this assumption, they were correct. They were especially correct if there was no one around. Ferris\u2019 only witness, his last hope with the dazzling smile, was already long gone. <\/span><\/p>\n

Paul leaned in, hands on his hips. “Where\u2019s your skinny boyfriend?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, we\u2019re sorry,\u201d Zach said. \u201cDid he break up with you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris did not have the time for this. Avoiding eye contact, he turned to leave the bathroom. His body stopped mid-step\u2014Zach had grabbed his sleeve.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Let go,\u201d Ferris said.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Don’t be rude. We don’t leave when you<\/i> walk into a room.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Let go<\/i>.\u201d Ferris twisted his arm, forcing his wrist free and stumbling backwards a step. After glaring at them one last time, he hurried through the door.<\/span><\/p>\n

It was Rudy\u2019s voice that followed him down the hall.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Fine, fuckin\u2019 kike!”<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris’ heart was pounding by the time he made it down the hallway, the sound of their laughter stuck in his head. His hands were clenched. It was an odd realization\u2014he wanted nothing more than to hit that boy. He wanted to shut him up, to hurt him. Ferris closed his eyes. No, that wasn\u2019t how this worked. They wouldn\u2019t goad him into starting a fight.<\/span><\/p>\n

All that aside, there were three of them. That was one battle he would definitely lose.<\/span><\/p>\n

#<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris was grateful when the weekend finally came. He\u2019d been neglecting his sleep, his violin, and whatever emotions he was supposed to be working through after his encounter in the boys\u2019 bathroom. Though it had been half a week since that afternoon, the stone in his gut had signed a long-term lease.<\/span><\/p>\n

Cleaning the violin didn\u2019t require much thought. It was slow, repetitive, as mindless as washing the dishes. The cloth ran up over the strings, wiping away traces of rosin, clearing any evidence that fingers had ever been present. There was something satisfying about it.<\/span><\/p>\n

Stanley was at his feet. He looked less like a one-year-old pug and more like a two-month-old cantaloupe that someone had tacked googly eyes onto. Ferris had given up trying to convince his mother that people-food was not meant for dogs\u2014she\u2019d brought him home, after all. Ruth had been convinced that a bug-eyed puppy was just the thing to make her son smile more often. She had been wrong.<\/span><\/p>\n

Stanley\u2019s wrinkles folded as he pressed his face against his paws. He whined.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris\u2019 hand paused over the violin. \u201cWhat do you want?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The pug responded with a tail wag, followed by a few shameless hops and a closing bow.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI can\u2019t play right now.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Stanley whimpered. The sound grew in pitch, peaking into a bark. He bowed again, his tail wagging so hard it was a wonder it didn\u2019t fall off.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFine. Just a short walk.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Stanley had been around long enough to know what \u2018walk\u2019 meant. The dog lost his mind, winding and unwinding in rapid circles. Ferris traded his violin for a coat and scarf. It took a moment to hook the leash on the loose pinball his pet had become.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHold still, seriously. Just a second. There.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

If the pug was any bigger he\u2019d have pulled Ferris headfirst down the stairs. Instead, he tugged in vain until they were out the door, then scurried to the nearest tree. Ferris shuffled behind, unable to comprehend getting this excited over, well, anything.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAre you almost done?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Stanley wasn\u2019t anywhere near done, dragging his begrudging teen an entire four blocks from the house. Ferris looked up. The sky seemed grayer\u2014that tense swell that came before rain. Now seemed like a good time to go back. Stanley, however, seemed to think it was a good time to squat. Ferris readied a plastic bag.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, sure. Shit in the middle of the sidewalk. You\u2019re too good for the curb.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

As he tied the bag shut and tossed it in the trash, something down the street caught his eye\u2014three familiar faces at the corner. He\u2019d never seen them out of uniform, but their antagonistic stench had remained. They hadn\u2019t noticed him yet.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris took a slow step backward. <\/span><\/p>\n

The motion caught Zach\u2019s attention. He motioned to his friends, whose trajectory veered straight into Ferris\u2019 direction. Ferris\u2019 eyes darted back and forth; there weren\u2019t any other people out on the street. There was a pulse, somewhere under his skin, pounding on the walls of his chest as if it were trying to escape his body.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey, Ferris.\u201d Paul leered as they formed a human wall around him.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris swallowed the lump in his throat. \u201cWhat do you want?\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWell, you dropped a penny.” Rudy grinned. He dug around in his coat pocket and pulled out a copper coin. “We thought you’d freak out or something if you lost it.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris averted his eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat, you don\u2019t want it?\u201d Rudy said. \u201cGo ahead, it\u2019s yours.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t want it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cCome on, take it.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The boys were starting to laugh. The sound was like the screeching of steel, the shriek of a violin in the hands of a four-year-old. Ferris had heard it too often\u2014in the halls and in his dreams. His ears were hot. They could probably see him turning red. <\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris rediscovered his ability to move, turning away. <\/span><\/p>\n

Paul\u2019s hand clamped onto his shoulder. “We came all this way just to see you,” Paul said. \u201cDon\u2019t be like that.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIs that your dog?\u201d Rudy crouched. \u201cUgly little guy.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris had forgotten about Stanley. Before he could act, Paul grabbed his wrists. Rudy took the leash.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cStop! Give it back!\u201d Ferris fumbled for the leash, but Paul twisted his arm behind his back, forcing him forward in a half nelson.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong? Is this your little brother? He looks just like you,\u201d Rudy said, picking the dog up by his scruff. \u201cSee?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The pug squirmed, tiny feet paddling air beneath a high-pitched whine.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cRudy, I\u2019m serious. Put him down!\u201d Ferris hadn\u2019t stopped struggling.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? What\u2019s wrong? He likes it!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cPut my fucking dog down!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Stanley whimpered and the boys laughed once more. As Paul snickered, Ferris felt a slack in his grip. This was it. <\/span><\/p>\n

Any traces of logic and critical thinking had retreated to a safe room in the back of his mind. All that remained was anger\u2014Stanley\u2019s whine, the grip of Paul\u2019s hands, the color red. Ferris\u2019 chest filled with his next breath.<\/span><\/p>\n

His elbow hit Paul hard in the ribs, a wrath-fueled wrecking ball, and Paul doubled over, gasping. Ferris\u2019 attention locked on Rudy.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris had never learned the right way to hit someone. In one sweep, his fist cracked across Rudy\u2019s cheek. Pain shot up through the joints in Ferris\u2019 poorly arranged fingers. Rudy staggered backward and Stanley landed with a plop on the grass.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris couldn\u2019t remember ever being angrier. There was no thought in his movements, no rationale for the way he threw Rudy down onto the sidewalk. He was on top of the boy in an instant, punching him once, twice, ignoring the sound of skull on pavement. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cG-get him off!\u201d There was a spray of blood and saliva as Rudy shouted. \u201cGet\u2014him\u2014off!\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Rudy\u2019s voice snapped the other boys back into the moment and they scrambled to grab Ferris by the arms. They threw him down, kicking him over while Rudy pulled himself up against the tree.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat the fuck was that?<\/i>\u201d Rudy wiped his chin with his sleeve. \u201cCrazy asshole.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The impact had skinned Ferris\u2019 cheek and knocked his glasses loose. He could hear them clatter somewhere down the sidewalk, out of reach. Everything was blurry. His head was pounding\u2014something in his skull was attempting to depart through his ear canal. Ferris gripped his temple, trying to push himself up on one elbow. He barely had time to inhale before an over-eager tennis shoe met his stomach. He fought the retch that shot upward from his gut, keeping it down with a gasp. Something hit his back and his limbs crumpled. <\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris wondered if he should regret hitting Rudy\u2014if Stanley had gotten away.\u00a0 <\/span>The dog was probably so thick that he\u2019d hung around to watch. A sharp bark confirmed this. Stanley was still bristling at the strangers instead of running away. In a way, it was flattering that the little pug would stay at his side.<\/span><\/p>\n

Stupid dog.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris tried to focus\u2014the sidewalk was fuzzy and gray. Small red spots began to appear on the cement and Ferris realized that his nose was bleeding\u2014or maybe his lip. Something was bleeding. A force pushed him onto his back and there was a weight on his hips. Paul was sitting on him, his grip coarse as he fisted the collar of Ferris\u2019 shirt. He knew Paul was close, he could feel the heat of his breath. Why did he sound so far away?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYou ever hit one of us again and we\u2019ll\u2014\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cSomeone\u2019s coming.\u201d It was Rudy\u2019s voice, probably. \u201cForget him.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The hands on his collar departed, leaving Ferris in the custody of gravity. He hit the pavement with a dull thump. There was bated cursing, scuffling. The sound of three sets of shoes faded and for a moment, the street was still. He closed his eyes and listened to the traffic a block away. Stanley was licking his hand.<\/span><\/p>\n

A new noise approached, the roll of small wheels. A cart\u2014a stroller? It stopped, the sound replaced with a woman\u2019s voice.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAre you okay? Can you hear me?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The voice faded into the traffic. Then there was no sound at all.<\/span><\/p>\n

#<\/span><\/p>\n

On Monday, Ferris didn\u2019t show up at school. The doctor had recommended he recover at home and Ferris, having attended six fewer years of medical school, was in no place to object. He had holed up in his room, staring a crater into the same wall for 48 hours. This was for the best. A face that was three shades of purple with a half-swollen eye was not a face he would want to present to everyone at St. Basil\u2019s Private Academy. <\/span><\/p>\n

His glasses were giving him a headache. They were too small and too old, a spare he\u2019d kept around from fifth grade\u2014a child\u2019s glasses. The arms were digging World War I trenches into each side of his head, but his new pair wouldn\u2019t arrive for another week.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris shifted on his bed, glaring at a new focus\u2014the ceiling. Normally he would be reading, studying\u2014anything resembling productivity. Yet somehow, he could do nothing but shoot dirty looks at that single spot above his head. Stanley was curled up at his side, snoring. This was enough excitement for one day.<\/span><\/p>\n

There was a knock at the door.<\/span><\/p>\n

His first instinct was to ignore it. If he didn\u2019t feel like reading, then he certainly didn\u2019t feel like talking. His second instinct reminded him that his mother hated being ignored.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah?\u201d he said. His throat was dry.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDemos is here. He has your homework,\u201d came Ruth\u2019s voice through the door.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOkay.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris dragged a pillow up over his face. Demos couldn\u2019t see him\u2014not like this. The door cracked open. Ferris glanced over from the corner of his eye; he could see his friend slip inside and shut the door behind him. Demos rolled the desk chair over, sitting down next to the bed. He was holding a small stack of folders.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cFerris,\u201d Demos said in the most eerie, commanding tone Ferris had ever heard. \u201cLook at me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris mumbled something against the pillow. Not content with this response, Demos snatched the pillow in a single, curt swipe. There was a pause as he looked over the extent of the damage. Demos\u2019 eyes darkened in the already dim room. The pillowcase creased as his fingers tightened into it, digging lines in the linen.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWho did this to you?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris looked away. Who did this to you? What happened?<\/i> His parents had asked the same thing. There would be questions, then more questions, then conversations with other parents, with the school. Ferris didn\u2019t want any part of it. He could sit in this room, suffocate his humiliation, and then drag himself back to school once his face looked human again. That was the plan.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Is that my homework?” Ferris asked.<\/span><\/p>\n

Demos scowled. <\/span><\/p>\n

“Yeah. Biology and World History. There’s an essay you have to do.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Fine, give me the assignments.\u201d Ferris sat up and held out a hand.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Tell me what happened.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I got mugged,\u201d Ferris said. Maybe his friend would buy it.<\/span><\/p>\n

Demos took in a slow breath through his nose, then leaned closer. “Mugged?<\/i>\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Okay, so he wasn\u2019t buying it.\u00a0 <\/span>Demos\u2019 next words came through his teeth. “Who was it? Tell me the truth.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris made a hand gesture. “Some guys.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cDo I look like an idiot to you? I know when you’re lying\u2014you suck at it.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I do not.”<\/span><\/p>\n

“So you are<\/i> lying?” Demos said. “Tell me or you’re not getting these assignments.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris couldn\u2019t take those eyes anymore. It was unbelievable, how terrifying such a small, pale figure could be. Demos was what Ruth referred to as svelte<\/i>\u2014slender limbs and pianist fingers, the furthest possible thing from the word intimidating<\/i>. Yet, here he was, scaring the shit out of his best friend with those eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

“You can\u2019t blackmail me,\u201d Ferris said. It was a weak claim, at best.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Yes, I can.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris looked down at his hands, his lips flattening into a thin line. Shame and doubt clung to him like an itchy sweater\u2014too hot, too heavy, too late to take off. Demos was waiting. The silence between them was worse than the interrogation had been. <\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris closed his eyes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cRudy Sauber.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cAnd?<\/i>\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The follow-up hit him with a jolt. Why couldn\u2019t his best friend have been just a little bit dimmer? <\/span><\/p>\n

“Why do you think there was someone else?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Because Rudy Sauber is a pathetic coward,\u201d Demos said. \u201cWhy are you trying to protect these guys?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I’m not protecting anyone.” He sighed. “I just\u2014”<\/span><\/p>\n

“What?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“I don’t want it to be a big deal.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Demos set the pillow down on the bed, letting his hand linger atop for a moment. When he looked back at his friend, his eyes were just a little bit softer.<\/span><\/p>\n

“It won’t be.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Something twisted inside Ferris\u2019 chest. The gentle look was even more disarming, more terrifying. Ferris\u2019 mouth opened, but the words had lodged themselves in his throat. He exhaled, then spoke.<\/span><\/p>\n

“Paul Bennett,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cAnd Zach Straight.”<\/span><\/p>\n

Demos sat back in his chair. He wasn\u2019t looking at Ferris anymore\u2014he was somewhere else entirely. Ferris almost missed it, the tightness in the corner of his eye, the shadow that seemed to have welled up from below the earth\u2019s surface and nestled into the pointed gaze of the boy at his side.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d Ferris asked. The question seemed to bring Demos back to the bedroom.<\/span><\/p>\n

“No reason. Here’s your homework.” Demos set the folder down on the nightstand, then stood. “Get some rest, okay?”<\/span><\/p>\n

“Right. See you,” Ferris said. \u201cAnd, uh\u2014\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Demos paused, looking back at him.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cThanks for stopping by,\u201d Ferris said.<\/span><\/p>\n

His friend responded with a simple smile, and nothing else. The door drifted shut behind him.<\/span><\/p>\n

#<\/span><\/p>\n

A day later, Ferris was staring at the door of his science class. There hadn\u2019t been a day in his life he had intentionally been late for a class, but the bell had rung a few minutes ago. The scene was playing out in his head: walking in, catching snickers, laughter. The boys would see their handiwork all over his face. His fingers clenched over the strap of his bag. Another image came to mind. It was a whining dog, the scrape of the sidewalk on his palms\u2014the color red.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris swallowed, then reached for the door.<\/span><\/p>\n

Any hopes that he could enter unnoticed vanished the moment he felt his classmates\u2019 eyes. It seemed they\u2019d noticed his absence, that he\u2019d reappeared looking as if he\u2019d been mauled by a bear. They were staring. His eyes locked onto the floor as he made his way to his desk. He slouched into his seat, took a breath, then looked up.<\/span><\/p>\n

Rudy, Zach, and Paul weren\u2019t there.<\/span><\/p>\n

Where had they gone to? Maybe they had all just skipped class together\u2014they did that sometimes. Ferris bit his lower lip. He hadn\u2019t had breakfast that day, so why did his stomach feel as if he\u2019d eaten a handful of wet sand?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cHey.<\/i>\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris blinked, then turned to look at the boy who was whispering to him. \u201cYeah?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWere you in the same car accident?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cCar accident?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Those guys, they were hit by a car. Like a drunk driver?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo, it wasn\u2019t a drunk driver.\u201d Another student had leaned in, her voice hushed. \u201cThe car chased them down<\/i>.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWhat? That\u2019s stupid,\u201d the boy said.<\/span><\/p>\n

She huffed. \u201cI\u2019m serious, that\u2019s what happened. They\u2019re all in the hospital right now.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris stared, forgetting he was a part of the conversation. A car had hit them\u2014no, chased them down. A car had chased them down. The sand in his stomach shifted and he could feel himself go pale. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWell?\u201d the boy said, this time more urgently.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cUh\u2014\u201d Ferris swallowed. \u201cWhat?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cWell, were you<\/i> in the accident, too?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris looked back over to the three empty seats. Whatever had happened, whatever rumor was true, there was one simple fact. Rudy, Zach, and Paul were not in class that day.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cNo. I wasn\u2019t.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

He left it at that. This, whatever this was, could be the result of only two things. Either karma was incredibly effective in this day and age, or this had something to do with Demos Giorgetti.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Illustration by Eyugho Science was one of Ferris\u2019 favorite subjects, though the class itself was not one of his favorite places. The room itself was fine. An analog clock above the blackboard ticked lazily as the instructor wrote the day\u2019s assignment with determined clicks of chalk. The man was intelligent\u2014likable, even. But the boys sitting […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-739","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fishbones-book-01"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4oWx8-bV","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/739","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=739"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/739\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":781,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/739\/revisions\/781"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=739"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=739"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=739"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}