Chapter 10

Anderson was doing some workouts at the gym, that night, when Harry called him to ask where he was. Andy replied that he was at the gym, and Harry said he was on his way. In less than twenty minutes, Harry'd arrived there to meet his friend all reddened and sweaty, seated with a towel around his neck, a bottle of water in his hand, and his outerwears just beside him on the bench. His mouth was in an evil smirk.

  As Harry advanced towards him, he observed his surrounding — perfect — save for the misplacement of some machines.

  "Hi, Anderson."

  "Hi, Harrison."

  Harry smiled. "My dear friend has gotten into a fight, which is a rare topic these days. You literally fight once in a year."

  Andy raised his eyes to him, without a smile on his face. "I've not even said anything, yet."

  "You don't have to, I know the smile you make when you've kicked someone's butt."

  Harry watched as Andy uncapped the bottle of water, and exhausted its content in his mouth in one turn. He looked across the hall and noticed the gym was empty, save for two girls seated by the chest flye machine. They resembled each other a lot, Harry could see. He noticed they'd just concluded and were refreshing themselves. One had a side parting in her hair, while the other had her hair styled in a short bub. They had dead looks on their faces — it gave Harry the creeps. He hadn't seen those faces in Mcbornie before.

  Just then, Andy's phone rang.

  So he uses his phone after all, thought Harry with a smile.

  While he answered the call, Harry stood up and advanced towards the near end of the gym where there were some chest press machines. It was just what he needed for his triceps and shoulders.

  Meanwhile, he could hear Andy's voice echoing in the air:

  "Hi, Mr Hans. . .yeah, I'm okay. How's Madam Lizzy?... Huh?. . .oh, right. . . . It's going well. . .woah, that's great. . .I'd love to be an escort. How 'bout we say coming Saturday?. . .uh-huh. Yes, I know that. . .okay, definitely. Talk to you soon."

  Harry watched, from the corner of his eyes, how Andy stood up and paced back and forth, a little, smiled, then snapped his fingers. "Perfect," he muttered. Next, Harry saw him make for the bathroom with the towel still strapped around his neck.

  The girls stared at Andy as he moved, then at Harry who was already on his fifth round.

  "Hey there!" Harry called out, "would you like to join me?"

  They raised to their feet, packed their backpacks, looked at Harry, smiled and frowned at the same time, then walked out.

  Harry's mouth fell ajar. "What the heck do you call that?" he muttered to himself.

  When he was done working with the chest press, he went for the leg press. He sat in it, selected the desired weight, planted his feet flat on the platform, flexed his arms in readiness, then pulled the release lever. He crouched his legs and laid his back on the seat, accepting the pressure to fall on his waist, from his feet. He pulled and pushed with his legs for some minutes.

  When Andy came out and met him on the leg press, he smiled. "Why are you pushing like a chicken?"

  "What was that?" Harry called out with pressure in his voice. Sweat covered his face, and vains were drawn across his forehead like a skillfully-drawn map.

  Andy chuckled. He kissed his biceps and forced huge bumps on his arms.

  Harry came out of the machine and began hopping, putting his weight on one leg, then the other. He walked to Andy, clasped arms and hit shoulders, before heading for the bathroom.

  Andy walked to the door and looked outside; the street was as busy as ever, despite the fact that snow had covered half the street. It was already past ten in the evening. He stood there watching people move this way and that, hurriedly.

  He heard the bathroom door creak open, and looked over his shoulder to see Harry come out of it.

  "So soon? It's barely even a minute since you got in."

  "Why spend that long? I'm not having babies in the toilet, am I?" Harry asked, rubbing a white towel against his face, with both hands.

  Andy ignored this and walked to where he'd kept his windcheater. He slipped it on, Harry doing the same. Together they walked out of the gym. Andy brought out the key-bunch from his pocket that Daniel Lockwood — the owner of the gym — had entrusted him with, and locked the place after flipping the lights out.

  They discussed as they walked to the nearest junction.

  "How are things going at home?" Andy asked.

  Harry sighed. "Fine."

  Andy nodded, noting the change of countenance.

  "He isn't making things worse is he?"

  "He can't," Harry said, a little pinch of confidence in his voice.

  Their arms were tucked into the large kangaroo pockets in front of their windcheaters. As they spoke, their respiration floated in the air from their mouth.

  Andy paused and looked at Harry. "I'm sorry I'm asking you this, dude — you know I don't ever pry into personal matters — but why's your dad acting the way he does. . .I mean, my therapist told me everyone acts the way they do for certain reasons."

  The wind howled in their ears.

  First Tiana, now you? How do you guys even get your informations the way you do?

  Harry looked the other way, his expression totally gloomy. Even Anderson was not expecting it, especially not this time. He began to move again towards the junction, and Andy followed.

  "Look, I'm sorry."

  Harry stopped then looked at his friend's face. "For what?"

  "I know I shouldn't have asked that, but I'm also worried about you — every time I see you smile, I know there's a lot behind it."

  Harry gave Andy a sarcastic smile, tongues out.

  "How d'you even do that? One second you're like this, then the next you're something else. It's such a wonderful quality."

  Harry shaked his head, smiling broader. "I think there's a word for that."

  "Endurance? Optimism?"

  Harry chuckled. "I said a word and you gave me two."

  Andy smiled back and ran his hand through his hair, letting the hood fall back to expose his head.

  "You want to tell me what happened this evening?" Harry asked.

  "Do I have a choice, at the moment?"

  Harry didn't get why he said that but smiled, nevertheless.

  He continued, "It was 'cause of this certain lad that just couldn't stop running his mouth. He just had a word to say to everyone—"

  "Awn, come on, dude! His words moved you to fight? That's not the Anderson I know."

  Andy squeezed his face at him. "It's more than that, he was saying something about me wishing to get cuddled in my mum's arms."

  Harry's mouth fell agape. "Woah."

  "Woah's right, and that's just what I gave him — a 'woah.'"

  Harry's cheek raised.

  They were now at the junction and there was still no sign of a bus. The wind howled in their ears. They sat on the waiting-bench, and hugged their arms because of the cold.

  "So what's up with you and Mr Hans?" Harry asked.

  Anderson looked down at his hands, he obviously wasn't in the mood of speaking any further.

  "Cheer up, mate. You can do better than this."

  Anderson looked indifferent, still, to what Harry was saying. He looked at the open sky and blew into it.

  "Nothing much, it's just top secret," Andy said.

  Harry was about to ask what Andy was talking about when he remembered the question he'd asked.

  "Top secret, huh?"

  The question hung in the air as they both noticed a bus advancing towards them. They stood up, and walked into the parted doors.

"THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE!" cried Andy, as he walked into the basement to see a terrible mess that had been made of it.

  As he moved one leg after the other, he scanned the room. All his inventions had been dilapidated, and paperworks were scattered all over the ground. Moving closer, he narrowed his eyes to an empty table and, immediately, felt his heart skip a beat.

  "The robot!"

  He scavenged through the room to see if he could find it else where, but didn't. His shoulders dropped. He thought about all his sleepless nights, all his efforts. He tried searching for the cardboard where he'd drawn its features, written its prototypes, et cetera. He couldn't find it; it was gone. Gone into thin air. He fell on his both knees and gave way to tears.

* * *

  Jocelyn was at her front porch, trimming some hedges in the little garden she'd made. It seemed to be growing faster than she'd expected. She'd just trimmed it a week ago, and there were so many already. Despite the gloves she wore as she worked, one of the spines of the plants succeeded in making a cut on her hardel.

  "Good for nothing weeds!" she exclaimed, rubbing the cut with the tip of her fingers.

  Just as she did this, she heard the bell of a bicycle and raised her head to the wooden gate. She could see through it, a feminine with a pin dress and hat, but couldn't see more than that because she was seated on the floor. She pulled off her gloves and raised herself up and was least expected to see Amanda Shane.

  They stared at one another like they did at the restroom, the other day.

  "Hi," came Amanda's sweet voice.

  The first thing that came to Jocelyn's head was, "Walk away, girl," and before she knew it she saw herself walking away.

  "Wait!"

  Jocelyn halted immediately, then turned around to look at Amanda's oval-like face. Her round eyes stared pleadingly.

  "What do you want?" came Jocelyn's voice. It was shaky, and Amanda could see that.

  "I'm sorry."

  "Huh?"

  "I'm sorry for everything, Joce. I agree I was on the wrong side."

  The words pierced into her heart, making her feel guilty. But she wasn't ready to appear weak before Amanda. She crossed her arms over her chest, unable to think of a fitting response.

  Amanda ceased the moment, and spoke further. "I know I might mean little or nothing to you, but know this, that you mean a lot to me. I want us to be friends again, even if we can't be as intimate as before."

  Jocelyn said nothing, actually she was dumbfounded.

  "Nothing? You're going to say nothing? I, probably, shouldn't have been here." Amanda turned around and hopped into her bicycle. She placed her leg on the peddal and —

  "Wait!"

  Amanda's eyes widened as she saw Jocelyn glassy-eyed, a hand to her chest. She came down from the bicycle, leaving it to fall to the ground. She pushed the gate in, gently and ran into Jocelyn's parted arms, and began to cry hard.

  Unlocking the brace, they stared at one another with big smiles on their faces, and clouded eyes.

  "I'm sorry for everything, I know I was unjust and naive," Jocelyn said wiping Amanda's face.

  "No, I'm sorry for overreacting," Amanda retorted, wiping Jocelyn's face as well.

  They hugged themselves, tightly, once again. This time they chuckled like five-year-olds.

  "Do you want to come inside for a drink? I also made some cookies not quite long ago, it could reach us both."

  "I'm sorry, but I've got to reach Jake's home about right now."

  Jocelyn shot Amanda an expression that told she was hurt.

  "Please, maybe some other time. I promised Jake that after I've made it up with you I'd come to meet him, immediately."

  "Jake knows about this?" asked Joce, her eyes widened.

  Amanda was about to reply when her phone rang. She reached for it in her pocket and pulled it out.

  "Oh, speak of the devil," chuckled Amanda, "it's Jake."

  "Hi Jake—"

  "Hi Amy! Sorry, something came up, and I won't be home today. Can you come over tomorrow?"

  "Umm...okay. No problem, talk to you later."

  "Yeah, kisses on both cheeks."

  Amanda chuckled. "You too, Jake."

  She smiled at Joce and returned the phone back to her pocket.

  "He was actually the one who'd adviced me to come here and put up with our differences."

  Jocelyn smiled and nodded her head in understanding.

  "So does it mean you're vacant for some cookies now?

  Amanda smiled, "Vacant, you say?"

  Together, they laughed heartily.

  "Well, I'm so in!"

  The two girls hopped inside the house, happily.

  They talked about school life and their social life. Amanda was the happiest girl alive, at the moment.