Tom and Harry were going out of class, together. They discussed as they advanced to the locker room. Classes were over. Surprisingly, Tom was very friendly.
"See, I'm sorry for how I'd exploded on you, earlier." Harry waved it off. He liked the sound of sincerity he thought he was hearing. "Naw, I understand. We all have our sensitive spots." Wait. . .was that right? He wanted to rephrase that. "Oh, yeah?" Tom turned to him, opening his locker. "And what's yours?" "Maybe you can come over to my house for dinner, what do you think?" Tom pulled out his backpack and looked at the time on his wrist. "I guess so, but I've got to pick my sister from school, then when we're home, I'll help her with her homeworks and see if I can balance the time left." Harry's eyes were wide. "You have a sister?" "Uh-huh," he nodded. "She attends Mcbornie Junior High." "Wow, then it's not so far, just a couple of blocks away." Tom knew what he meant; he wanted to escort him. He closed his locker with a gentle push, then faced Harry who was stuck-piling his bag with some textbooks. "Where do you live, anyway?" Harry looked at him, then closing his locker, said, "Street 38." He noticed Tom opening his mouth to say something, then refraining. "How about you," he inquired. "Street 39." They stared at each other for an awkward moment. "Dude! That's even closer than I imagined. You know my best friend lives in Street 1, so I barely even get to visit him, save for when I need to speak with him urgently; face-to-face." "Oh," he said. Then slunged his bag on his arm. "Do you want to join me pick my sister?" Harry smiled. "Definitely." He picked his own bag and hurled it against his back, slipping both hands, meticulously. As they walked downstairs, Tom asked, "Where's Andy, anyway?" "He had to run home, he said he had a dinner with someone." "Oh, I guess it must be that girl — what's her name? — something about a juice." Harry laughed. "You must refer to Joce. No, it's not her." Without looking at Harry, he said, "So it's not Joce then, who's the girl this time?" Harry smiled. "It's not a girl, and Andy is not dating Joce, mind you." "Oh, he isn't?" Tom asked. "Then who's the dude he went to see?" "It's Mr Hans. You know him?" He stopped and stared at Harry as if he'd said something really bad. At the moment, they were standing outside the school building. "What?" Harry asked. He was about replying, when Joce came by. "Howdy mates!" They returned the greeting. "So, where's your buddy Andy?" she asked, looking around them. "He went home early," Harry said. "He's having a date," Tom added for his pleasure. At the mention of that, every life in Joce seemed to have drained off. Dismay was written all over her countenance. Harry smirked, he liked the new look. "A what? With who?" "It's not a date, Joce, chill out," said Harry, still enjoying the act. So he resolved to put the information slowly, for fun. "Oh," she said. She thought it was best to walk away, but she just had to know who the girl was. "Is something wrong?" Tom asked, keeping a serious face. "No, no, of course not." She placed her hand on her forehead. "I'm just a bit dizzy." "Then you'll have to sit in the school bus over there," Harry said, pointing to the school bus waiting to be full, "it's about to take off." "Yeah, thanks." She began to catwalk away when she heard an explode in laughter. She turned back to stare at the boys. "What's so funny?" "Just so you know," said Harry, "it's Mr Hans he went to meet. The old man and his wife had invited him for dinner." She paused, expressionless. This even gave way for more laughter. "I'm such a jerk," she muttered to herself. "You weren't jealous, were you?" Tom asked under his laughter. She heaved a huge sigh of relief and flashed a smile. "Maybe I was," she said, then turned around and headed for the bus. They both knocked their fists against each other's, laughing out, loudly. While she walked, Jocelyn thought about the concept that had risen fear in her a couple of minutes ago. It was the exact thing those boys had just risen afresh. If she was to keep him, then she had to do something fast, she thought to herself, with a shudder, as she climbed in and sat, delicately. "Man, did you see her face?" Harry said. "And you said they weren't dating, huh?" Tom said. "Nope," replied Harry, "not that I'm aware of." He nodded. They walked together, silently. As they walked, Harry tried to place what they discussed about before Joce's interruption, but couldn't. In a short while, they were standing at the gate of Mcbornie Junior High. Lots of memories flashed into Harry, as he remembered his days there. He walked to the corner of the gate, and pointed. "See this." Tom was already walking in when Harry said that, so he had to walk to him. He looked closer. On the wall, in very tiny, unnoticeable writings, was written: Andy and Harry were here. The greatest people that ever walked through this gate. Tom smiled, then walked away. Harry scurried behind him. As they advanced inside, they turned to the library. When they got in, they saw the librarian chatting on her Android phone, a headset over her head. When she noticed their presence, she smiled at them both, then pointed towards the Author's Catalogue. Tom nodded and walked over to the direction. Harry noticed they had a new librarian, he didn't know this one. On getting to the Catalogue, Harry noticed a little girl in purple skirt and top, and a purple sweater over the top. She was swallowed by what she read that she was oblivious to her immediate surrounding. Harry observed the book in her hands and realised it was Shakespeare's. "Sup, lil' sis," Tom said, a smile Harry not seen before across his face. The little girl jerked aback in shock, placing her hand on her chest. "Tommy! Don't sneek on me that way, I almost had an heart attack!" Tom chuckled like a child. "Good afternoon to you too," he said. She looked at him in mixture of anger and satisfaction. "Good afternoon, big brother." "How was school?" "Same as always." "Did you get bullied?" She arched her eyebrow at him. "You know I can beat a bully without using my fist—" "Yeah, right," Tom rolled his eyes. "Where are my manners? Harry, meet Tiana. Tiana, Harry." Harry raised a fist with the index and middle finger out, facing her. She nodded in curiosity, slowly. "But," she began, "that's impossible!" "What's impossible?" Harry asked. "Tom has a friend? No way!" He smiled, while Tom looked the other way. "I'm sure you don't want to do that," said Tiana, looking at him, pleadingly. "What's the problem?" Harry asked, feeling uneasy at Tom's reaction. Tiana replied by looking at her brother who was looking away.* * *
In the bus, Joce sat quietly, listening to one of Justin Bieber's song, earpiece plugged in her ears. She looked back at her life, growing up with parents who cared little for her. All they did was provide her food and clothing, never cared about her emotionally. Or maybe she was the one who wasn't responding. She remembered those times she came back home with a very long look on her, and her mother would come to her room with a cup of tea so she could share her daughter's grief; but all Joce wanted was to be alone. She'd ways felt they never understood her. All her life, Joce had envied Anderson's home. He had a happy family. His mother was always enthusiastic about everything; but then she died. Joce cried the loudest when she heard the news of his mother probably eaten by a sea creature. She had a strong intimacy with her, even told her most of the things she couldn't have ever pictured herself telling her parents. She took a deep breath in and let it out, slowly. Then she let the thought trail off as she thought about Amanda. Jake must be awed to have someone as good-hearted as Amanda. It was a rare case for anyone to find a place in Amanda's heart. Stupid as it may sound, Joce knew that her friend couldn't possibly have wanted anything to do with Anderson. "He's too nerdy, too smart, too strong. If I ever needed a boyfriend, then I'd want those qualities to be moderate," she'd once said. She thought about their Elementary School days, and how they'd attached to one another; how Amanda Shane had walked up her front door, one Saturday evening and said: "Hey Jocelyn, I heard you painted that picture in the School Reception." Her eyes darted here and there. "Uh-huh, it's a little 'something' I learnt to do in the art tutorials I'm forced to go to every Saturday," she lied. The truth was, she learnt sketching and painting from her Uncle Justin. And she loved it, passionately. Amanda's eyes brightened. "Does that mean you're yet to go? 'cause last I checked, this is a Saturday." Joce chuckled, brightly. "Why do you sound that way? I've never heard anyone pronounce words the way you're doing." She smirked. "It's called an accent. I've been attending some English classes. I attend it twice a month; there I learnt that we all have different country accents. I'm from the United States, so that why I kinda sound different." "Oh, that explains a lot. So you're from America, then that makes you?—" "American." "Oh, I could have figured that out, myself. Well I'm British as you plainly know. And I have the same accent as Queen Elizabeth the second. Ta-ta!" Jocelyn said and bid her "farewell." "Hey, that's rude!" Jocelyn's back was already against her. "Oh, is it? Then shall I make you a cup of tea while I leave you with my book collection?" "You have a book collection? No way! I'm so gonna see that!" It was the oddest way a friendship could begin, but that was it. The funny thing is, it ended up in the oddest way as well. What was weirder was that she never reconsidered any decision she'd made. Amanda had tried getting in touch with Joce, to no avail. So she had to find a way to get distracted. Jake just seemed the afterthought decision, he'd been acting so friendly since her junior highschool. "Why not give it a try?" Odd as it seems, while she sat on that bus, she regretted every decision she'd ever made. It probably was about time. The more she pictured how foolish she would feel if she saw Anderson with another girl, the more she wanted to gather back her old friends. It dawned on her that she didn't have much friends around her, if any at all. She covered her face with her hands and began to cry, silently.As they dined in the large dining room, Hanson cracked his voice and began to speak. "Young Simpson, I want to tell you a little story about myself." Andy looked up from his food and smiled, nodding in approval and attentiveness, mouthful. "I have never told anyone this, except my beautiful Elizabeth here," he pointed out. This time, Anderson's curiosity was risen. He knew this was very important, so he gulped the food piled in his mouth, asking, "Then why are you telling me this?" "Because I feel there's an adventure for you in this story, to help you achieve your goals." "Adventure?" "Yes, an adventure. I want you to listen very attentively. My wife and I have considered it, and we've come to agree we can trust you. We can, right?" Andy nodded. "Definitely." The couple smiled and exchanged glances. Andy immediately tapped on his SW to begin recording (this was
Yo guys! Sorry, Andy's not in this one. But I hope you'll like it. Also, don't be confused by the name, "Amanda." One is the mother of Harry, the other is his classmate.– – – –The birds chirped over the window frame, euphoniously. The heatless sun hung delicately in the clear blue sky, while the air smelt nice and cosy. Harry gave himself a big stretch on the bed, with a roar-like yawn. Throwing the blanket off his body, he threw one leg before the other to the ground. He blinked, sequentially, trying to adapt his misty sight to the room. The room was a total mess. Clothes were piled all over his room; trousers slung here and there. He walked to the standing shelf adjacent to his bed and pulled it open. He squeezed his face to see the horrible mess he'd made it. He couldn't make a word out of it, save for one; mess. He dropped his fingers in his head and began scratching hard. "I need to get this room in place!" he sa
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
Mr Hans — or simply Hanson — had just finished speaking to Anderson that evening on phone. After the call, he sat back to reflect on the day. He'd done lots of work at the workshop, and sold so many stuffs. He smiled, with the feeling of self-accomplishment. Inventing was cool, he thought. You could practically do anything you wanted, as long as you could think it. Hanson's bedroom was practically a lab. His bed was a robot — one could make it warm and cosy by pressing the red button at the base of the bed. One could also make it rotate, just for the fun of "traveling while sleeping", by pressing the green button beside the red. There was a little switch at the head of the bed always on neutral. If you pushed the switch up, it raises the bed up — near-ceiling-length — and if you pushed it down, it lowers the bed. In addition to this, all his windows worked on a remote. The remote also controlled his room cabinets. It had just two buttons
The bell rang for end of classes. All the students scurried off the classroom, leaving frustrated Mrs Corbyn screaming out, "Oh come on! Can't you all just wait a little for my conclusion on the topic?!" But of course, she wasn't expecting an answer. "This Agric teacher is the weirdest I've ever encountered in my entire life," said Tom to Harry. They both grinned and packed their books to the locker room, hurriedly. On their way, they saw Jocelyn at the other side of the sea of moving students, walking with Amanda who held some textbooks to her chest, protectively. They chuckled as they walked, but did not notice the boys. Harry couldn't remember when last he'd seen the duo together. They even sat together at lung. His eyes clung to the girls, still, and then. . . "Ouch! Watch where you're going!" a familiar voice cried, after bumping into Harry. The books in Harry's arms spilled to the ground. He quickly bent to pick them, then raised his hea
When Hanson came over to Anderson's home, Harry and Jocelyn had already parted to their various homes. Hanson and Mr. Simpson spoke in the living room for some minutes before he excused the latter to see Andy. Andy was seated on his bed with a frame of his mother in his hands. When he heard the knock on the door, he quickly hid the frame under a pillow, replacing it with his old action figure toy. The old man came in with a warm smile. His hair spread across his forehead, cocking out from underneath his fascinator which was gently placed on his head. He was wearing a knee-length garment over a sweatshirt and a pair of pants. "Mind if I join you, Young Simpson?" he asked, while Andy gestured to sit beside him. Hanson looked around the room. It was spacious and neat, filled with lots of books on the overhead shelves. The room was well-polished with tall cabinets. At the end of the room, there was a desktop computer whose monitor
Saturday morning. Andy woke up with a big stretch. He felt unusually happy. Some birds played serenades that tickled his ears from his half-opened window. The sky was white and free from any flapping bird; winter had its way of doing that. The wind howled like a wolf under the full moon. That the chimney was on, Andy could tell due to the warmness that engulfed him. He quickly reached for his pair of binoculars, threw himself off the bed, slipped on his anticipating pair of slippers and scurried off to the bathroom where he washed his face thoroughly, brushed his mouth, then finally went for a bath. He laid inside the bathtub, completely caressed by the warm, soapy water in it. It was amazing to finally be visiting Portsmouth, and Andy knew it. He could see himself walking down its ancient streets with cathedrals and Queen Elizabeth's naval Hospitals. He could smell the nostril-soothing breeze, and the mouth-watering fruits in the market
Jake paced about in his room, his hands locked behind him. He was wearing on a brown-collared sweatshirt over a pair of ash-coloured joggers. The windows were shut close, because of the weather. Karen and Kaycie sat on the soft mat beside his master bed. They were seated Indian style with their eyes closed; they were inactive at the moment. Jake was working new programming updates on them. The cyborgs were wirelessly connected to a big white contraption. "Sentics completed!" announced the contraption. "Yes," Jake said to himself. "B2Q, let's test them." "Rebooting the cyborgs!" came it reply. Jake walked up to them and unbuttoned their shirts to observe the blinking lights on their necks. It was green. He smiled, nodding. "Perfect." "In three, two—" Jake moved back a little, "—one. Power on." Karen and Kaycie's eyes opened, simultaneously, to meet Jake's wide smile, and cocky eyes. "