Oliver got home around 3PM, sulking into the house.
"How was school, honey?" his mother asked, smiling.
"It sucked," Oliver replied. "I hate it there. The kids are weird, Mom."
"I think you're being a bit harsh, dear," she told him, "You just haven't made any friends yet."
"No Mom," Oliver insisted, "The school is WEIRD." He promptly told her about some of the odd behaviors he'd witnessed that day.
Her smile faltered a moment. "Honey, I think your imagination is running a bit wild," she said.
"Mom, this whole town is weird," Oliver protested. "I want to move back to Chicago."
"Honey," she said, "Your father and I grew up here; we moved back because of his job. I know it's rough now, but it'll feel like home soon."
"Whatever," Oliver replied, "I'll be in my room."
Oliver's mom waited until he was upstairs, then dialed her husband on the phone. "Ted," she whispered, still frightened that Oliver might be able to hear her, "Oliver's noticing the kids at school's behavior. I think we need to do something."