A board dedicated to fan written work about Pandect. Includes poetry, original song lyrics, and short and serial stories.
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- Gladiator Ace
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- Joined: Tue Jun 15, 2010 1:00 pm
Title: Plucking Weeds
Length: Double-Shot :: Chapter One: 13,000+ words/Chapter Two:
Genre: Realistic Fiction
Summary: Even in a flourishing garden, blossoms must mingle amongst the weeds in order to fully bloom.
Author’s Notes: Hello everyone, and thank you for clicking onto this little piece. I must warn you that I took many liberalities in my manipulation of Dina’s characters. Hopefully you will not find them too distracting and will be able to sit down and enjoy this reading. Apologies in advance for any grammatical or characterization errors. Later on, please refer to the ending notes. I pray that the rating will not be a turn off for you. With that, go ahead and grab a bite to it, some drinks, and take care.
Noah halted on his bicycle. His foot settled on the pavement as his brow quirked in surprise. While on the way to his friend Cleatus’s house only two blocks down from his own home, he paused when an unfamiliar storage truck obstructed his usual path. The eleven year-old boy peered curiously to his side and watched the scene that played past a weathered, prototypical, white picket fence. Two men who were clearly movers, as the matching uniforms indicated, grunted and heaved large boxes into their straining arms. A light, unseen, feminine voice chimed through a nearby doorway, and gently led the workers inside.
“So, someone decided to move into that old house after all.” Noah mumbled to himself.
With a careless breath and indolent shrug, he pushed his foot off the road and began to pedal hurriedly away, his excitement whirring almost loudly as the chains on his bike. Why would he bother to stare at new neighbors when the only new thing he cared about was the Sniper Vipers II video game Cleatus had just bought?
Cycling down the street, Noah missed the sight of a young, frustrated, white and blue-haired boy crouched before an empty garden bed, pulling at stubborn weeds poking through.
The digital clock on his wrist blinked red and mocking—5:57.
With a groan, he circled his feet faster on the pedals, his knees almost sore with ache.
“Crap. Crap. Crap!” Noah hissed through his teeth, the last word leaving his lips in a heightened, panicked whimper.
‘Mom will choke me with my own shoelaces if I’m late for dinner.’ He mentally dreaded the image of his impending doom, as his blue, frenzied eyes whipped around and searched for familiar street signs. He usually left Cleatus’s house much earlier, giving him ample time to take a leisurely ride back home, enjoy the evening breeze through his hair, let go of the handlebars and pretend he was flying—all that corny good stuff. Today however, Daku and Waka got completely annihilated by his and Cleatus’s double-teaming on Sniper Vipers II. In order to redeem themselves, they threw down the gauntlet and challenged him and Cleatus to a two-versus-two basketball game in the blond’s driveway. Needless to say, it was obvious which team won. Yet, seeing how dangerously close it was to six o’clock, Noah suddenly began to feel like a loser.
The tires on his bike nearly screeched as he turned a corner, and he inwardly collapsed in relief when he saw his home on the end of the block. With a few more glides over the sidewalk, he was at the path that led to his front door. Noah bit his tongue to choke down a fearful whine when his mother’s silver van, already perfectly parked, came into view. He recklessly swerved to a stop. With a heedless leap off his bicycle, he hurriedly steered it to its usual place by the porch. Noah dashed up the walkway, occasionally pausing to hop on one foot as he frantically ripped his shoes off.
After a quick stomp up the porch steps, he leaned his arm against the doorframe and panted. The dark-haired boy flashed a quick glance at his wristwatch.
Though his chest wracked with heavy gasps, a victorious smirk twitched at the corner of his lips. He sighed in reprieve, taking a moment to bend down and neatly place his sneakers by the door in order to prevent incurring his mother’s wrath at his sloppiness. With a deep breath and a smile stitched onto his mouth, he twisted the knob, not hearing the pitter-patter of tiny, thundering footsteps that galloped on the other side.
Pulling the door open, Noah took one stride inside and casually called out, “Mom! I’m—“
That childish voice was the only warning Noah had, before a little body barreled into his chest. His vision whirred and suddenly Noah’s head became acquainted with his wood-paneled floor.
“—home.” Noah muttered, his eyes blank and unfazed as he stared at the ceiling and blew his bangs away from his face. Really, he should have known better. This happened all the time. If he had been equipped with the knowledge that his little cousin was within a thirty-foot radius, he would have braced for impact.
Noah cricked his neck to peer down at the ten year-old boy that clung to him. The sneaky kid had an impish grin plastered onto his face and his mischief was only amplified by the light giving him a devious glint off his glasses.
“Hello to you too, Ceasar, you little leech.” The elder child rose up onto his elbows and lifted one hand to flick the “leech’s” forehead.
Noah watched smugly as Ceasar tumbled off him. The younger boy yipped, his little hands clutching the inflicted spot. He glared accusingly at Noah with eyes flickering in pain.
“You’re so mean! The meanest cousin ever!” Ceasar cried indignantly, rolling around on the floor as Noah rolled his eyes at the child’s melodramatics. The dark-haired boy steadily rose to his feet and brushed the imaginary dust off his clothes, before reaching down and pulling his little cousin up by the collar of his shirt.
“Come on, you big baby.” Noah snorted gruffly, sending Ceasar a snarky leer and gripped an arm around his neck, motioning a noogie with his knuckles. The ten year-old merely shot back with a defeated sniff. Noah’s ears piqued as he heard a quiet laugh followed by soft footsteps. He looked up to see his mother leaning on a nearby wall smugly, so much like him it was really no wonder why they were related. She tapped her foot lightly in tandem with the wooden cooking spoon she tapped against her palm, and she peeked over her shoulder to look back at the mounted kitchen clock.
“Hmm, six o’clock exactly. I see you decided to make it in time for dinner.” His mother pointedly mused as she turned to face him, her dark brown eyes stern though twinkling with amusement. She smiled gently, brushing a strand of her silken, coffee-colored curls behind her ear.
Ceasar broke out of Noah’s near choke hold and ran towards her wailing.
“Aunt Rose!” He whined, clinging to her waist (again, Noah noted, much like a leech) and jabbed a condemning finger in Noah’s direction.
Brandishing a formidable puppy dog pout, he laid his head against her stomach and bleated, “Noah hurt me.”
Noah’s eyes widened in alarm as he held up his hands in bewildered surrender. His gaze darted helplessly at his mother, and then fiercely at his little cousin, who had the nerve to silently cackle behind his Mom’s apron. Noah growled lethally and curled his fingers into a fist, wordlessly promising the little snitch a hanging, atomic wedgie in the near future.
Rose resisted the urge to place her palm over her face at her nephew’s blatant attempt to incriminate her son. Kindly, she released Ceasar’s grip and held his hand, gesturing him to follow her, as she guided him to the foot of the stairs.
“How terrible.” She said soothingly with an exaggerated, consoling shake of her head.
Playing the role of the adoring aunt, she gave the younger child a pat on his back and urged, “Now run along and play in his room. I’ll be sure to give Noah a word or two.”
Rose exchanged a knowing look with her son; they both gave a nonchalant shrug, ignoring the triumphant ‘woo-hoo!’ Ceasar hollered as he clambered up the steps, naїvely believing Noah was in trouble.
Once the little boy scurried out of sight and presumably lounging about with Noah’s XBOX, Rose turned towards the kitchen, hinting for the eleven year-old to tag along.
“Come on, food is waiting for you.”
As if right on cue, Noah’s stomach rumbled in agreement and the boy flushed with embarrassment as he rushed in after her. He pushed himself onto one of the high stools beside the counter and plopped down, his legs swinging in anticipation. As his mother laid a platter of her steaming, home-cooked meal before him, Noah rubbed his hands together, his fingers twitching, eagerly reaching over to grab a nearby fork and prepared to stab into his food.
“You were late today, Noah.”
The eleven year-old snapped out of his hunger induced trance and stared at his mother uncertainly.
Puzzled, he narrowed his eyes and warily asked, “What are you talking about, Mama? I got here before six! That’s my curfew, isn’t it?” Noah bit the inside of his cheek worriedly, and finished his statement with a self-righteous pound on the table with his fist.
The dark-haired child didn’t catch the disappointed glance Rose’s features churned into, as he leaned his chin onto the foot of his palm, propped up by the elbow. His brows furrowed in thought, while a glower weighed down on his lips. He didn’t understand—granted, he got home at six on the dot, but how did that make him late? Should he have been earlier? Oh, man. He knew he shouldn’t have let his ego inflate with the thought of beating Daku and Waka—twice. Noah unconsciously let out an evil grin as he recalled how Cleatus had tossed him the ball just in time for him to slash Daku and Waka’s hopes for glory with a swish of the net.
His shoulders jumped slightly when he felt his mother’s fingertips tenderly brushing over his wrist. Rose flashed a small smile at his startled actions, before her mouth tweaked into an upset frown.
“Noah, you were supposed to be home at four today.” Rose explained patiently, crouching down to be at eye level with her son. His eyes boggled in return.
“Four? Why four?” He asked with distaste, the word clearly foreign on his tongue. What poor, tortured kid had a curfew at four in the afternoon?
“I knew you would forget.” Rose sighed with a slight shake of her head.
The woman rubbed her temple and murmured sadly, “Even when you saw him tackle you at the front door, the realization didn’t even hit you then, did it?”
Noah’s eyes widened.
He was supposed to play with Ceasar today.
The eleven year-old hung his head to hide his shame-flushed face. “I’m sorry, Mom. But it wasn’t my fault, I swear! You see, Daku and Waka got really annoyed ‘cause—“
“It’s not me you should be apologizing to, Noah.” His mother’s firm voice cut him off as she gazed at him intently.
“You haven’t gotten along with Ceasar lately. He’s your little cousin, Noah. I can’t believe after all the times you’ve ignored him, he’s still cheerful whenever he hugs you! He’s so good. He was waiting for you the whole time. He’s never been mad at you once—“
“Mom!” Noah’s head snapped up as his frustrated hands tugged at his bangs. His young, fierce eyes were bright and defiant. “That’s not fair. You can’t keep expecting me to have a play date with him all of the time. He’s.”
He exhaled, crossed his arms, and kicked his feet irritably.
“I’m eleven now, and he’s ten—“
“So what?” Rose cut him off, now standing at her full height, her hands on her waist as she tapped her foot. “Okay, so he’s a year younger. What does—“
“Mom…” Noah groaned and rolled his eyes. With a scoff, he hung his head back to shoot a glare at the ceiling, making sure he wouldn’t mistakenly beam it his mother’s way. Otherwise he was certain he’d be grounded for his attitude. Why couldn’t she just understand that he was in middle school now? Ceasar was in the fifth grade. Elementary school! And though he loved his cousin dearly …Ceasar was weird. He didn’t have many friends. He just.
He just wasn’t cool. And if Noah really wanted to fit in, Ceasar had to step out.
The dark-haired boy bit his lip to prevent an accidental slip up. If his mother knew what he was thinking about his little cousin, forget Daku, Waka, and Cleatus. The only friends he’d hang out with for weeks would be Mop, Broom, and Sponge.
Noah was surprised to find his mother pinching his cheeks. “Ow, Mom! What are you doing?”
Rose grinned slyly, as she ceased her assault and cupped his small face in her hands. “I really don’t know why you keep repeating you’re eleven. You’re always going to be my little baby.”
“Mom.” Noah whined under his breath, clutching at his mother’s wrists in an attempt to pry them off. The bridge of his nose was tinged red in embarrassment, as his eyes flashed to the stairs praying to the Universe Ceasar wouldn’t choose this time to clamber down the steps for a drink. He refused to be called a baby. He was a growing boy! Soon to be matured! His underarms had become much more itchy recently—an obvious sign of incoming pubic hairs. That had to count for something, right?
He glanced up at his mother’s brown eyes and noted that the fight was drained out of them; they were replaced with a let down, but calm acceptance. Noah felt the tension in his shoulders ease. He knew he was safe. For now.
“I’ll be in the den reading, okay? You just finish your dinner and head on upstairs. We’ll talk later. I’m sure Ceasar is tired of waiting.” Rose brushed his bangs aside and gave him a small peck on his forehead.
Noah listened until he heard his mother’s footsteps die out in the hallway before he folded his arms on the counter and laid his head down with a sigh. He turned to his side, facing the window. Time had passed since he arrived home, and the low afternoon light melted into bleeding reds, oranges, pinks, and yellows. Noah snorted. It looked as though Ceasar had attempted to scribble the sunset. The smirk that laced onto his lips fell away at the thought of Ceasar. When was the last time he had even colored with the younger boy anyway? Could he have possibly gotten better at art?
“Ha, as if.” The eleven year-old scoffed at the thought and forked the warm meal into his mouth. He ignored the cold taste it left on his tongue, attempting to convince himself it wasn’t guilt he was trying to swallow.
“Thanks for letting me sleepover yesterday, Noah!” Ceasar chimed as he slipped a small backpack onto his shoulders. He looked back and gave his older cousin a cheeky grin.
“As if I had a choice with the way you passed out on my bed.” Noah said gruffly while he crossed his arms and leaned into the door frame, unknowingly striking his mother’s classic pose. He inwardly rolled his eyes as he remembered even trying to nudge Ceasar off his pillow with his foot, but the leech refused to budge.
Rose waved good-bye to the little boy from the kitchen sink. Soap suds decorated her palms as they busily scrubbed the dishes that her little ones piled up from breakfast. The gentle woman secretly smiled at Noah’s attempt to disguise his affection for Ceasar; while her nephew may have been oblivious to Noah’s true feelings, she was the ever-knowing mother. She could clearly see that despite his rough exterior, her son took his “duties” as Ceasar’s big cousin very seriously. Laughing lightly, Rose was not disappointed to see Noah slip on his sneakers in order to safely escort the ten year-old home. And if Noah could read her thoughts, she knew he would vehemently proclaim that he was only pushing Ceasar out the door because he “couldn’t wait until the little leech left.”
“You’re taking off earlier than usual. I thought you always made it a rule to wait until my Mom cooks you lunch before I have to walk you back.” Noah commented, glancing at Ceasar from the corner of his eyes as they paced side-by -side. The dark-haired boy frowned, not liking the tone of his words. He sounded as if he almost missed his little cousin. “Do you have to finish some homework for tomorrow or something?”
Ceasar shook his in response. “Nope! Already did it.”
At this Noah raised his brow. “Really? And here I thought you always made it a rule to wait until the last minute. Two shockers in a row.”
Ceasar’s face burned red. “Your Mom helped me with some of it yesterday before you came home…” He mumbled, twiddling his thumbs.
Noah snorted. “Isn’t having your own fifth grade teacher help you with your homework cheating?”
Ceasar puffed his cheeks in fervent denial, plodding ahead of Noah. “No. It. Isn’t!” He ground out through his teeth with every step. “I got most of the answers by myself!” Turning the corner, Cesar reached his home and stubbornly clomped up his porch. Noah snickered, trailing behind his cousin until he reached his usual stop at the mailbox. Ceasar, as bi-polar and odd as he was, shifted from stomping to skipping playfully up to the front door.
“If you really wanna know why I left early, I wanted to finish making something for someone in class.” The plum-eyed youth mentioned casually with a chipper lilt in his voice as he bent down to untie his shoes.
“Aw, something for your girlfriend?” Noah cooed with an impish smirk, already filing away that bit of information into the Blackmail cabinet at the back of his brain. If he threatened to wave this news to his over-excitable mother, he knew Ceasar would be paying him Pandect Fighting Cards for days. He’d been itching for the ultra-rare holographic Black Western Diamondback Snake Gladiator that Ceasar had miraculously sitting in his pile…
Ceasar felt his cheeks flare again. “No! It’s not for a girl! I’m just trying to make Fleance my friend.”
Noah merely shrugged in response. He had to hand it to his cousin—the boy had persistence. Even after a month of rejection, his cousin still kept trying. Ceasar had so much persistence, he was often the only reason Noah got out of bed during the weekends. The younger child would poke and prod like there was no tomorrow. Privately Noah couldn’t blame this mysterious Fleance who happened to be a student of his mother’s…if Ceasar was his classmate, he’d ignore the weirdo too. Not that he didn’t now.
“Good luck with that.” Giving his little cousin a mocking two-finger salute, Noah turned on his heel with his hands stuffed in his pockets and began to stroll home satisfied in knowing Ceasar made it safely without tripping on random twigs or recklessly running into the street. “Say hello to Auntie and Uncle for me.”
“Bye cous!” Ceasar called out cheerily in a silent thank you, before sticking out his tongue and blowing a raspberry at Noah’s retreating figure.
Noah, never quite the morning person, held back a yawn with a fist covering his mouth and rubbed his eyes sleepily with the other. He continued to meander listlessly, kicking a stray rock with every stride. About half a block away from Ceasar’s house, the dark-haired boy paused. His eyes narrowed. A strange squeaking sound alerted him. Noah remained frozen in his steps, studying the scene askance. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; just a still, eerie blow of the wind tumbling leaves ahead.
The eleven year-old shook his head limply. “I’m going crazy.”
He began to tread, taking joy in purposefully crushing the leaves beneath his feet. He could imagine their twisted shrieks of pain.
Noah jolted back. Perplexed lines creased onto his face. “What the…”
He took another step.
Noah gritted his teeth. The tiny squealing noises that prickled into his ears thoroughly irked what little patience he harbored. Growling under his breath, he whipped around and barked, “Hey, why don’t you stop following me—“
Behind him innocently sat two young boys in a small, aqua-blue and white pedal car.
Noah’s eyes boggled. His brow twitched as he attempted to channel the anger away from his voice. “Kouros. Rufus.”
The eleven year-old huffed, palming a hand over his face. “What are you two doing?”
Unfazed, or completely oblivious to Noah’s annoyed demeanor, Kouros, who was crouched in the passenger seat of the toy car, merely sipped at the grape juice carton he clutched in his hands. Rufus, boisterous where Kouros was tranquil, beamed childishly at Noah, as he pedaled furiously after the older boy.
To Noah’s intense displeasure, each cycle the six year-old cranked out unleashed a symphony of squeaks. Noah struggled to maintain his composure.
“Hi Noah!” Rufus, the rambunctious driver, steered himself and Kouros to the eleven year-old’s feet. Looking up at expectantly at Noah, Rufus clapped his hands together in excitement, “We’re getting ice cream.”
“So early in the morning?” Noah asked uncertainly.
“Yup, yup! Ice cream is yummy!” Rufus merrily sang as Kouros nodded enthusiastically beside him.
The dark-haired boy glanced at the pair with a deadpan expression. “And your parents are all right with that?”
“Yup, yup! Good boys get good treats!” Rufus chirped happily while Kouros grinned in agreement.
“I see,” Noah remarked dryly, gazing down at them as he scratched the back of his head. “But if you want ice cream, why are you following me? Do I look like an ice cream truck?”
“No! Noah is cooler than an ice cream truck!” Rufus vigorously proclaimed. The blond child jerked up from his seat and waved his arms frantically, ignorant of his unintentional pun.
“Way cooler!” Kouros chimed in. “We just wanted Noah to come walk to the ice cream truck with us. It’s gonna be at the next street corner soon!”
The sixth-grader scrunched his nose at the thought. He couldn’t possibly be seen hanging out with a bunch of babies in broad daylight. “I’m sorry guys, but I have to go home…”
“Oh, no! Please!”
“Yes, please, please, please!”
The little children whined sadly, pressing their hands together in a praying gesture. Noah took a startled step back at their unexpected outcries. Kouros stared at him miserably while Rufus pouted in distress.
“Please, Noah.” Rufus inquired, shuffling his feet anxiously. “You used to walk us lots of times before. You never do anymore, though…”
Noah slouched over with a wheeze of vexation. He resisted the urge to slap a hand over his forehead. What was it with the Universe that constantly reminded him of the things he “used to do, but didn’t now?” Yesterday was that scene between himself and his mother on how he had been rudely neglecting Ceasar, and now this? While he was flattered that the six year-olds enjoyed spending time with him, Noah didn’t do babysitting. His cool-ness meter would surely plummet down to the valley of Hades’s buttcrack.
Rubbing his temples, Noah sighed and once again felt a stab of remorse. The older boy folded his hands behind his neck and began to walk away. Rufus cast his disappointed gaze down at his messily-tied shoes, as Kouros slurped his grape juice pitifully, the straw meeting nothing but the bottom of the empty carton.
Not hearing the squeaks of the pedal car toddle after him, Noah looked back over his shoulder with a questioning stare. With just a twinge of hesitance, he asked roughly, “Well, are you two coming or not?”
The straw plopped out of Kouros’s mouth in pure shock, before his face split open into a happy grin. Rufus, teary-eyed but relieved, chanted a whoop of pleasure as he settled into the driver’s seat and cycled to match Noah’s pace.
Noah watchfully ambled after the pair that pedaled excitably ahead of him, chatting about the different flavors they could share. Shaking his head with a private chuckle, the older boy amusedly muttered, “I dropped off one little brat only to pick up two.”
Noah blinked, hearing a muffled cry to his right. Stopping in his tracks, he peeked over a familiar white picket fence and realized he stood at the same house the new neighbors had moved into the day before.
The eleven year-old turned to find the source of the noise. A young boy, whose face remained hidden as his back was turned to Noah, was huddled in front of a mound of dirt, weeds fisted in one hand. The child seemed to be sucking on the fingers of his other hand. By the way the kid had tossed his garden shears aside, it wasn’t hard to guess what happened to him.
At the sight of his hair, Noah’s eyes tapered in disbelief.
“Blue and white?” He whispered skeptically. Noah darted a fleeting look between the first-graders’ now distant blue and white toy pedal car and the outlandish head of locks this boy here seemed to be sporting. He silently compared the two, cynically deciding the latter must have used spray paint. If Noah were romantic however, he would describe the other child’s hair as the colors of the bright, big, open sky—soft with a calming blue blanketed by white, puffy clouds.
“Noah, are you okay?” Rufus called out already at the end of the block, while Kouros peered back at him curiously.
The eleven year-old boy shifted his attention away from the unknown child and nodded to them in reply. He dashed to catch up with the two little guilt-trippers so he could get this ice cream errand over with and simply back to sleep.
He wasn’t romantic though.
So to him, that boy’s hair was just plain weird.
“I failed again!” Ceasar bawled pathetically into the kitchen table, as Aunt Rose hesitantly rubbed his back in comfort.
“He’s never gonna like me.” The ten year-old sobbed in a childish fit.
A nervous laugh twinkled out of Rose’s lips. She attempted to placate him, gently placing her hand on his. “There, there Ceasar. It’ll be oka—“
“No! It won’t be okay!” The bespectacled boy adamantly declared, his voice muffled by the wooden surface he shoved his face into. “Fleance will never want to be my friend.”
Noah stepped through the front door and cringed at the sound of his cousin’s wailing. On the bright side, the younger child was too busy drowning in sorrow to see that he had just returned home from Cleatus’s house. ‘Yes! No welcome-back tackles.’ The dark-haired boy rejoiced to himself as he padded quietly into the kitchen. He wiped sweat away from his forehead with the back of his hand and laid the basketball he carried onto the counter, while staring at his cousin with a bored expression. This was the third tirade he heard this week.
Noah shared a look with his mother, who helplessly shrugged and continued to pet Ceasar’s hair.
“Of course he’ll want to be your friend, sweetie. You’re a very nice boy. Maybe he just needs some time. You know how shy he is.” Rose suggested softly, unwilling to believe that she had fifth-grade classroom drama unfolding before her. Couldn’t this wait after puberty?
“Time? Time?” Ceasar lamented theatrically, unaware Noah had joined the audience of his angst-filled opera. “How about the new boy just moved here two weeks ago? Why is he already Fleance’s friend?”
Rose could barely disguise her wince at his hysterics. “Ceasar, you know Edgar and Fleance have very similar personalities. That’s why they got along so quickly.”
“So Fleance doesn’t like me?” The plum-eyed boy whimpered.
“Well, it’s no wonder why he doesn’t.” Noah cut into the conversation.
Ceasar’s head snapped up. He gawked at the eleven year-old , hurt written all over his features. “Noah?”
Rose recoiled at her son’s insensitive timing. Her mouth twisted into a displeased frown, a scold ready to fly off the tip of her tongue. It took her so long to soothe even a little of Ceasar’s fears, but now Noah’s cruelty would only shoot the little boy back up the crying coaster!
“But that’s okay.” Noah continued, unaffected by his cousin’s tears and his mother’s fury boiling beneath her placid expression. “It’s okay that he doesn’t like you.”
Rose blinked in surprise, biting her reprimand down and curiously waited to see where Noah was running with this conversation.
Ceasar on the other hand, could not contain his dumbfounded distress. “Huh?” He implored, his shoulders sagging with the weight of confusion the other boy just dumped onto him.
Noah sighed, as if exasperated Ceasar could not follow his train of thought. “It’s okay that Fleance doesn’t like you for now because you’re two different people.”
The dark-haired child sucked in a breath and resumed, counting a list off his fingers, “I’ve never met him, but what I can tell from what you’ve told me about him is that you’re loud, he’s quiet. You’re hyper, he’s mellow. You’re stupid, he’s smart.”
Noah ignored the warning glare his mother not-so-discreetly spiked in his direction at the last remark.
Ceasar sniffed pitifully. “H-hey…”
“But the point is, that’s okay.” Noah repeated emphatically. “It’s only because you haven’t given him a chance to get to know you yet. You’re probably scaring him off, or annoying him so much, because you show your friendship much more loudly than he does. So for a little while, just act more formal. Or in your case, I should say act more normal.”
“He must be a pretty neat kid if you’re trying so hard, and I think he’d be lucky to have you as a friend. But from now on, you should just try something different because obviously what you’re doing now isn’t working.” Noah explained with a surprising dollop of patience.
He stopped for a second to address the boggled face his mother had plastered on her features. “Yes, Mom. I know. Who kidnapped your son and replaced him with a counselor?”
Noah turned back to Ceasar and disregarded the boy’s wide eyes. “Besides, remember how you befriended me? We had nothing in common. It took forever for you to make me like you—and before you say anything, it’s a very small, small, small amount of like.” Noah finished off darkly, silently threatening the ten year-old with death if those words were to be repeated. Ceasar gulped and nodded, actually quite reassured that his cousin was still as mean as ever. The kindness was creepily beginning to raise the hairs on his skin.
“Just keep trying with Fleance like you did with me. You did your best, and look. Now you’re my best cousin.” Noah finished off, with a resound pat on the ten year-old’s shoulder.
Ceasar’s brows furrowed. “But…I’m your only cousin.”
Noah smirked and flicked the other boy’s forehead affectionately, “Exactly. You’re the only cousin I could ever tolerate. So quit your face-planting on my kitchen table, because my Mom does not want to clean your snot that’s dripping all over it. ”
The slight quivering of Ceasar’s bottom lip and his gleeful teary-eyes were the only warnings Noah had before the younger child launched off the chair and into his chest. Noah groaned when his head was introduced to the kitchen tile. He felt like he was reliving a terrible déjà vu.
Rose, her heart swelling with pride, turned away to start cooking dinner. Behind her hand, she smiled.
There were days when Noah wished he could hide away from the world in his bed.
Today was one of them.
It was a school day.
“Noah, I’m leaving for work now. Okay?”
Noah pried his eyes open. His lids still swollen from fatigue, he could barely stay awake as he heard his mother’s whispered laugh in his dark room.
“You are such a reptile. So sleepy when you’re cold.” Rose said softly as she brushed his bangs to the side. She kissed his forehead lightly. “Please don’t be late. It’s six o ‘clock, so you have thirty minutes left to rest.”
Noah nodded numbly and nestled deeper into his covers, his mother’s soothing voice an unintentional lullaby. The eleven year-old boy tiredly observed his Mom reach over to Ceasar, who had invited himself to another sleepover. She pecked him goodbye on the cheek.
“Thirty minutes.” Rose reminded him as she slipped out the door. Moments later, Noah could hear the quiet hum of his mother’s minivan outside his window. The rumble of her clunky engine told him that she was putting away to Poseidon Academy. He dozed off to sleep.
And awoke when he was kicked out of his own bed.
“Good morning, Noah!” Ceasar greeted him irritatingly cheerful, already dressed in his uniform.
“Ugh.” The dark-haired boy moaned sluggishly, not having the energy to strangle the chipper boy’s neck. He pushed himself off the ground and rose unsteadily to his feet.
“No time to be a zombie. School starts at seven.”
Ceasar dumped clothes into Noah’s outstretched arms. Not a second after, Noah felt himself being shoved hastily into the bathroom.
His weary brain set into the autopilot mode as he mindlessly brushed his teeth and freshened up. Knotting his uniform tie and running a hand through his hair, Noah walked downstairs to find Ceasar setting a small pile of dishes into the sink.
“Aunt Rose made blueberry pancakes.” The ten year-old said off handedly as he licked the last few drops of maple syrup off his fork. Noah nodded, reaching into the fridge for a juice pouch. His Mom never left without preparing breakfast out of guilt for “leaving him at home.” While she worked at Poseidon Academy, the school he attended, she as a part of faculty regularly left an hour early. Noah, who intensely valued sleep, opted riding a bike to school rather than riding with her.
The sixth-grader took one look at the meal and frowned. Smiley faces? He was really too old for this. On the counter, his found the brownbag lunch his Mom wrapped up for him and he placed it into his backpack. With a final zip, Noah shrugged his schoolbag on. “I’m heading out now. So hurry up.”
“What? You haven’t eaten yet!” Ceasar called out worriedly, scrambling after the other boy who had already made his way towards the front door.
“Not hungry. Besides, you don’t know how to ride a bike, which means we have to walk. And because we have to walk, we need to leave earlier since it’ll take forever to get to school.” The eleven year-old said matter-of-factly, shooting a sharp accusatory glare at his cousin.
Ceasar growled through his teeth and dragged his feet out onto the porch. “Hey, don’t blame me! My parents obviously failed if they couldn’t even teach me to ride a bike.” At this, Noah snorted and locked the house. Testing the doorknob with a quick twist, he gave a satisfactory nod and followed Ceasar onto the sidewalk.
“Maybe you could teach me?” The ten year-old questioned amiably a few moments later.
Noah merely stared ahead and scoffed. “Don’t count on it.” He stabbed the plastic straw into his juice, symbolically killing the other boy’s hopes and dreams.
The next few minutes were spent in silence, Noah sipping his drink lazily as Ceasar brooded beside him.
They reached the main entrance of Poseidon Academy. Conveniently for those in town who could afford attending the private institution, Poseidon offered education from kindergarten to 12th grade. The academy itself was split into three schools: the elementary, middle, and high school buildings were clearly divided by fences and separate entrances. And true to Poseidon Middle’s name, its school was in the “middle” of the other two establishments.
Turning to the left, Ceasar flashed Noah a quick smile, too distracted with today’s prospects of befriending Fleance to be irritated with his older cousin. He vivaciously dashed away, “See you later, Noah!”
The dark-haired boy lifted a hand in casual farewell before he walked in the opposite direction, almost ashamed to admit he wasn’t upset about parting ways with his cousin now that they were in public.
And not a moment too soon.
An arm swung around his neck. Noah nearly stumbled in his steps at the sudden impact and whipped his head around to come face to face with Waka.
“I still want a rematch.” Beaming ear to ear, the other boy began rattling off, poking Noah firmly in the chest. Noah resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
“Again with this?”
“Duh! Basketball court after school. You, me, Cleatus and—“
“Drop it already. I’d rather not tally up more embarrassing defeats on our side.”
“Daku!” Waka relinquished his hold on Noah and gaped at his light-haired friend. Noah looked behind him to see Daku nonchalantly stroll towards them with a sigh.
“No, Daku. Really! I can feel victory this time.” Waka looked beseechingly towards him as the trio headed towards their class, tapping a clenched fist into an open palm. “The next game is so in our favor!”
Daku, unconvinced, merely raised a brow at his wayward companion before he turned towards Noah. As they entered their homeroom, he requested, “Shut him up please.”
Waka halted in his steps and sputtered at his buddy’s betrayal. “What is this? Crushed spirits I see? Where’s your competitive edge, man? Where’s your fire?”
Noah barked a laugh. “I don’t know, Daku. If losing won’t shut him up, nothing will.” He elbowed Waka jokingly out of the way, so that he could move between desks to take his assigned seat beside Cleatus.
The elder boy looked up from the last minute scribbling on his homework paper at Noah’s arrival, which was fabulously coroneted by the dark-haired boy dumping his school supplies onto the desk. Cleatus was disgusted by Noah’s lack of cleanliness. The blond chose to disregard his friend’s improper etiquette when he saw Waka sharpening mental daggers at the back of Noah’s head.
“And what exactly is going on here?” Cleatus inquired disinterestedly, filling in the last few blanks on his worksheet with the remaining five minutes he had left before the bell would ring.
“Waka wants to look like a loser and is trying to drag me along with him.” Daku muttered dryly, placing his backpack onto the desk behind Noah. Cleatus replied with an apathetic hum as he looked attentively at his paper and erased his answers furiously. Waka grumbled and plopped into the desk by Daku’s right.
The proclaimed “loser” crossed his arms in defiance. Waka turned to face the front. He stared at Cleatus oddly before peeking over the busy boy’s shoulder. “Hey, Cleatus. I thought you were the smart one. Why are you finishing this assignment now?” Waka cackled impishly. “Did Mr. Genius forget to do his homework for once?”
“Speak again and you die.” The blond stated curtly.
Waka nervously scooted away and sunk deep into his seat. Daku snickered.
Students filtered through the door, their voices mingling with scraping chairs and chatter. Whispers and gossip threaded animatedly around the room, and Noah noted with a shake of his head that Daku and Waka were no exception --the pair girlishly giggled about a television show overdosed on explosions and giant robots. The eleven year-old bit the tip of his tongue to stop his sneer from escaping. No doubt would a wrestling match ensue, one that would end with him being mauled, if his two friends could read his mind.
Noah blinked at the sight of an unexpected blueberry muffin on his desk. He glanced up in time to catch the sight of Cleatus’s retreating hand.
“Mom made extras. Don’t ask, just eat.” Cleatus explained with a shrug of his shoulders before Noah had the chance to speak. The blond narrowed his eyes worriedly at him, “You’ve look tired recently. You haven’t been eating breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day you know.”
Noah smirked, peeling off the bottom wrapper before he took a bite. “I had no idea you cared. Thanks, I was kind of hungry.”
Cleatus released a snarky scoff. “Well, of course you’re hungry.”
The elder boy brushed the eraser dust off his paper right as the morning school bell shrilled throughout the hallway. “You told me you haven’t been eating your breakfast because your Mom still puts smiley faces on your pancakes, right? Really, by not eating it you’re being more childish. Just eat your stupid food. You’re so spoiled.”
Noah glared at his friend from the top of his muffin, thoroughly not amused.
Ms. Venus’s heels clacked as she walked through the door, twisting her long hair into a bun. She greeted the class with a smile. “Good morning, everyone. Test scores are in.”
Just as she had anticipated, her students groaned on cue. Laughing lightly, Ms. Venus reached into her briefcase and pulled out a stack of papers. After thumping the stack in order to straighten it, she began to weave her way between the rows of desk, returning grades to their rightful owners. Some grades their owners would prefer to abandon.
Ms. Venus approached the boy whose name appeared first in the pile. With a disapproving frown at the large, red D+ she circled, the woman clucked her tongue and placed it on her student’s desk.
“Ice, I know you can do better.”
Ice pouted miserably up at her. “But, Ms. Venus. Math isn’t supposed to have letters in it!”
“If you would actually pay attention for once, you’d get more letters than just a D. Preferably not a F.” She good-naturedly teased him, patting his head sympathetically as she walked away.
A few students down her stack, Ms. Venus grinned as she handed Cleatus his paper. “Top scores as always. Great job.”
Waka made a face of disgust and muttered, “Teacher’s pet.” Cleatus smirked in triumph.
Ms. Venus paused at the sight of Noah. She forced a gentle smile onto her face.
Nibbling at his muffin, the dark-haired boy looked up at Ms. Venus curiously.
“Why, pray tell, are you eating in my class?” The typically gentle teacher darkened, the sugary sweet voice she attempted to use with her student quickly melting into toxic.
Noah fearfully inhaled the rest of his muffin whole as Daku behind him inhaled a laugh.
“Good boy.” Ms. Venus said charmingly, the looming aura of doom dissipating from the atmosphere. She set Noah’s test grade down on his desk, tapping the A- she scribbled on top. “Keep it up, you’re doing fantastic.”
Noah mumbled a quiet thanks. As Ms. Venus made her way to the other side of the room, Noah growled and waved a threatening fist at Cleatus.
The blond brushed it aside and rolled his eyes. “I said eat, not eat slowly.”
- Gladiator Ace
- Posts: 406
- Joined: Tue Jun 15, 2010 1:00 pm
“Okay, lunch time.”
Noah snapped back to reality as Ms. Helen, his third period English teacher, snapped her book shut. He tore his gaze quickly away from the window, the bubble of his daydream now popped.
“Please don’t forget to get started on your book reports.” The woman reminded the class kindly while she packed her supplies. She waved goodbye to her students as they began to file out the door for break.
Noah turned to face Cleatus, confusion etched on his features. “What book report?”
“Really Noah, were you not paying attention?” The blond questioned with a pretentious sneer, as he meticulously lined up his pencils into his case.
Noah bit the inside of his cheek to refrain from commenting on his friend’s OCD-tendencies. Otherwise Cleatus would not bother to “grace” him with an answer.
At Noah’s lack of response, Cleatus sighed and pulled a piece of paper out of his bag.
Laying it in front of the dark-haired boy, Cleatus pointed out a column on his notes. “These are the novels we are to choose from. We are to read three and write three analysis reports. They will be due next term.”
Noah picked up the sheet with both hands and frowned unhappily at the list. He hated reading.
“We only have three months to do this?” He looked up crossly at Cleatus.
Cleatus scoffed. “Why are you complaining? This can be done in three days. Ms. Helen is being generous for people like you…”
The blond pointed a thumb over his shoulder at Waka who stood behind him. “…And for people like him.”
“What the—!” Waka’s mouth flapped speechlessly, offended at the comment.
Daku laughed loudly, and began to drag the livid boy out of the room. “We’ll meet you for lunch at the usual spot, right? We’ve got to talk to our swim coach really quick.” The light-haired boy flashed them a quick smile before popping through the exit.
Noah disregarded Waka’s ‘not-everyone-can-be-a-teacher’s-pet-like-you!’ that echoed from down the hallway and turned to Cleatus. “Ready to go?”
“Not quite,” Cleatus replied casually, “I must meet you later as well. I will be at the library.”
The dark-haired child blinked. “Uh. Why?”
“Unlike you, I’ve already selected my three preferred novels from the list, which is why I gave the list to you. It’s no use to me. I want to be sure I can secure those books for myself before anyone else does.” The older boy lifted his bag and began to walk out the room. Noah nodded in understanding, trailing after his friend. They strolled down the building, pausing at the stairwell.
“I’ll see you in about ten minutes. Daku and Waka should be done by then, I think.” Cleatus suggested. Before he left, he gave Noah one last threatening glare. “Oh, yes. One more thing about this project…”
“Don’t you dare use the internet.”
With that, Cleatus sauntered off.
He got caught.
The eleven year-old rubbed his temples, as he made his way to the outdoor courtyard. Cleatus had stolen his only saving grace for the assignment. The easy A (or B…perhaps C) he had planned to obtain from copying online synopses would have to be done in an old-fashioned, obsolete way: he would have to read. Noah’s face contracted in repulsion. Maybe he could convince Cleatus to help him, or trick his mother into telling him the plots of some books on the list.
The corners of his lips twitched upwards in victory.
Noah pushed past the side entrance of the school and stretched his arms above his head. The air was crisp, the sun’s warmth enveloped his skin—he loved being outside; compared to basking in the sky of the afternoon day, school felt like a prison.
He jogged over to his favorite lunch spot by a tree, and tugged his backpack off before he unceremoniously tossed it on the ground. Noah breathed a sigh of relief as he lay down on the grass using his bag as a pillow. He savored the isolation; far away from the main courtyard and the cafeteria, the quiet setting teleported him to another world. Dozing off in the shade, Noah sleepily looked up into the mosaic of leaves and sunlight that sieved through together above him. The peace lulled him, the grass tickled his cheeks, the wind played with his hair. Mother Nature cradled him almost as lovingly as his own mother would. The stillness made his eyelids heavy; his vision grew bleary with drowsiness. He was prepared to nap until dusk, ready to skip lunch completely. Noah smiled.
A sudden cry whiplashed him out of his stupor.
Noah shot up in alarm, looking around wildly.
The cry turned into a pitiful sob, threatening to spill over into a weeping howls.
Noah’s brows furrowed. He only knew one person who could blubber like that.
The eleven year-old staggered up onto his feet, haphazardly regaining his balance as he worriedly dashed past the tree to the nearby fence that divided Poseidon Elementary from Poseidon Middle. Noah gripped the chain link. His eyes darted wildly through the fence, scanning the scene. He watched random children run across the blacktop playground while others played basketball. And there, there in the corner of the playground unseen by any other angle, was his little cousin crying on the ground.
“Ceasar!” Noah gasped, pulling himself up the fence. He scaled it as quickly as he could, lifting himself over and landing in a squat. He raced towards the younger boy, nearly boiling at the fact that no one noticed that Ceasar was upset—what if he hadn’t seen him? Who would have helped the little boy then?
Noah skidded to a stop and crouched next to the ten year-old. The dark-haired boy placed a hesitant hand on the sniffling child’s back.
“Ceasar, are you hurt anywhere?” Noah panted, concern laced in his voice .
Ceasar jerked up in shock to see his big cousin at his side. “…Noah?”
The eleven year-old brushed it aside and demanded, “Tell me what’s wrong. Do you need help walking?”
The child bit his trembling bottom lip and shook his head defiantly. “No.”
Noah frowned. “Then what happened?”
“I. I got pushed.” Ceasar looked down, almost embarrassed.
“Pushed?” Noah virtually boomed, his body tensing in outrage. “Tell me who did it!”
Ceasar wiped his tears, opening his mouth to speak until Noah impatiently snapped his head around to find a prime suspect. The eleven year-old was taken aback to see a boy behind him that he did not notice earlier. The newcomer was a black-haired child with sharp eyes, though his entire aura remained impassive and expressionless.
Noah gnashed his teeth together, quickly standing onto his feet and loomed over the child he easily towered. His hand shot out and gripped the younger boy by the collar of his uniform. “Were you the one who shoved my cousin?”
The shorter boy glared, bold and unafraid. “Let go at once.”
Noah tightened his hold furiously, his other arm reeling back with a clenched fist. “Yeah, maybe after a little payback.”
“Noah, no!” In mid-punch, the eleven year-old heard Ceasar’s horrified shout.
Noah’s knuckles never buried themselves in skin.
The punch was brought to a halt by a light, yet firm grasp around his wrist.
Noah angrily snapped his head around, growling at the intruder. His eyes widened a fraction at what he saw.
Cold, cold red eyes that glistened with blazing ferocity bore into his.
What shocked him even more was the familiar head of blue and white hair. Serene, soft sky hair. So opposite from the Red Sea that crashed a maelstrom in those eyes.
It was the strange boy.
Noah’s arm went limp, stunned by the enigma’s unexpected arrival. The other boy sensed this lack of vigor and used it as an opportunity to shoulder himself between the two dark-haired children, and forcibly broke Noah’s clutches off his friend’s neck.
The eleven year-old glared, regaining his poise. He stared at the younger child as they mirrored each other—he defensively standing in front of Ceasar, as the new comer guarded the diminutive child just as fiercely.
Noah sneered, looking down at the blue and white-haired child from the bridge of his nose. “Get out of the way or it’ll be you, not him that you’ll have to be protecting.” The eleven year-old warned him severely in a hiss.
“He didn’t push that boy.” The unknown child shot back, unshaken, as he shielded his friend with an extended arm.
Noah mockingly quirked a brow and derisively spat out, “Oh, really?”
The younger boy did not seem to sense the sarcasm in Noah’s a rhetorical question and answered with a small, firm nod. “Fleance would not.”
Noah paused. So this squirt was the elusive “Fleance” Ceasar was trying to befriend.
Noah berated himself as he contritely looked at his cousin from the corner of his eye. The chokehold he had on Fleance probably choked the last chance Ceasar had to build a bond with the other boy. Forget choked, Ceasar’s last chance was sprawled on the dirt, gasping its dying breath.
The eleven year-old inwardly sighed. How on Earth did he miss the tiny, little fact that Fleance was just that—tiny and little! The kid was probably stunted! Ceasar was a weakling, but he wasn’t a total wimp. His little cousin wasn’t pathetic enough to be bullied by someone so puny! …He hoped.
Noah growled, low and commanding. “Then who pushed him then?”
The blue and white haired boy frowned defiantly. “I. Edgar did.”
It was then Noah glanced down to see a book underneath the boy’s other arm. It read in giant, bold letters “Edgar’s Journal.”
Noah scowled at the slightly shorter boy, snidely intoning, “Well then ‘Edgar’ should tell his little diary about how he’s gonna cry today.”
Ceasar bit his lower lip—he flashed a look at his cousin’s vicious snarl, at Edgar’s incensed features, and at Fleance’s worried gaze. He swallowed nervously and tugged at his cousin’s sleeve.
Cleatus called out, running towards the dark-haired boy seemingly out of breath. Daku and Waka trailed not too far behind, Daku panting and wiping off the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, while Waka loosened his tie in the heat. They reached their friend within a few seconds, eyeing him confounded and befuddled.
“Jesus, why are you making us chase you down?” Waka huffed, hunched over and grabbed tiredly onto his knees.
“We saw you through the fence. What are you doing here, man?” Daku laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder, squinting in confusion.
Cleatus turned to look at the unfamiliar boy that Noah never broke his gaze from. “Who is this?”
“This boys,” Noah began with a dangerous smirk, “is the punk named Edgar who thinks he can mess with my cousin and get away with it.” Noah finished off, too carried away with the thought of protecting Ceasar to even remember being embarrassed of having his little cousin around his friends.
Cleatus, Daku, and Waka exchanged glances—their eyes read the same message. No one messed with the pack. If anyone was against their brother, they would be by his side.
Edgar swallowed, trying to disguise his nervousness at the suddenly unfair fight. The three older boys flanked him on all sides, boxing Fleance out. Cleatus took casual strides to Edgar’s right, his expression chilling and lethal. Daku stepped to Edgar’s left, cracking his knuckles in a show of intimidation. Waka laughed sardonically, his hands in his pockets as he whistled an innocent tune and stood behind Edgar. Noah remained in front with arrogantly crossed arms. Edgar narrowed his eyes. Oh, how he longed to wipe all of those conceited smirks off of their faces.
“If you don’t want anyone messing with your cousin, you should warn him to not mess with others.” Edgar spat, his shoulders tense and ready.
“What are you talking about?” Noah’s eyes tapered testily.
“Your cousin Ceasar. He keeps stealing Fleance’s crayons! And he throws spitballs in his hair!” Edgar redirected his irritation to the plum-eyed boy who now stood next to Noah.
“What?!” The eleven year-old shot Ceasar a look, searching for the truth.
Ceasar gulped, nervously tittering and twiddling with his thumbs. “Haha…about that. You said to try something different to get Fleance’s attention and make him my friend…?”
Noah slapped a palm over his face. Through gritted teeth he spewed out, “That. Is not what I meant by different, Ceasar!” He mentally groaned. He was fighting for his cousin, who started the whole entire thing?! His cousin was an idiot. Why was this boy pulling pigtails?
“Whatever. Too late for explanations now.” Noah steered his glare away from Ceasar—he was so going to die later—and faced Edgar. “You still hurt him. Waka?”
At this Waka took the cue. He slammed the boy’s journal out of his hands and onto the asphalt. Edgar quickly turned around to face him, but Waka shoved him roughly back into Daku. Edgar thrashed to pick up his journal, but Daku was stronger and managed to hold him back by the arms.
The blue and white-haired boy glowered, his eyes promising wrath as he struggled. “Too late for explanations?” Edgar scoffed disbelievingly. “It was you who jumped to conclusions! Not Edgar!” Edgar challenged with pure detestation. Noah narrowed his eyes, unhappy with how this fifth grader he just met made him feel so stupid.
“What is this? ‘Not Edgar?’” Cleatus repeated with a malevolent smile. “Why do you refer to yourself in third person? You’re not a baby anymore, yet you still have a speech problem?”
Edgar’s cheeks flared indignantly. “I. Edgar doesn’t.” He stuttered. Noah could tell that the waver in his voice wasn’t from fear, but from a fury of words he could not spit out. “Edgar would rather have a speech problem then a listening problem.” The red-eyed child said pointedly in Noah’s direction.
“Oh, this one’s got a smart mouth.” Daku mused aloud. “Or his mouth would be smart if he could speak properly.”
The sixth-graders laughed viciously all around him. Edgar’s face flushed with shame. They found his vulnerability, his weak spot. The reason for his self-consciousness. He continued to fight against the older boy’s arms, but it grew weaker as his heart did.
Fleance snarled, trying to jostle his way to reach Edgar, but Cleatus effortlessly pushed the small boy aside. Fleance fell onto the concrete, near Ceasar’s feet.
Ceasar rushed down to pick him up, but froze when a tiny fist seized his shirt, almost vowing to throttle him. The bespectacled boy swallowed, pinned like a prey to Fleance’s deadly stare.
“You. Stop this, now.”
Ceasar nearly teared up, wracking with guilt, the apology in his tone genuine. “I didn’t mean for this to happen. They’re all stronger with me.”
Fleance wanted to sympathize with the child, who was as just as much a victim to the problem as Edgar was.
But he could not.
Not when Edgar was being bullied and neither of them could stop it.
“Useless.” Fleance muttered with bitter resentment, ignoring how his words struck Ceasar cold. He pushed himself to his feet, refusing to take Ceasar’s helping hand. “Where are the safety patrols?” Fleance snapped.
“Teddy and Cherokee are u-usually at the gym this time.” Ceasar answered as supportive as he could manage.
Fleance’s eyes softened. “Thank you. I will go get them and find an adult. Stay here with Edgar please.” With that, he raced off to find the two older fifth graders who monitored the halls.
Ceasar nodded. He ran up to Noah and made to jerk the eleven year-old’s arm back. “Cous, quit it! Seriously!”
Noah ignored him, yanking away from Ceasar’s grip. He watched pleasantly as Waka reached down to pick up the boy’s book.
“Edgar’s Journal?” Waka said skeptically, reading the cover. He sneered. “Aw, what a cute, little diary for a cute, little girl. And what kind of name is Edgar, anyway? Cleatus, catch!” Waka tossed it to the blond who caught it with one hand.
“No!” Edgar blustered, finding the vigor to break away from Daku’s grip. It was not a diary! His journal was precious to him. He ran up to Cleatus and tried to nab the journal into his safe hands.
Cleatus only smirked and kept it out of his reach. “What Edgar, too short?”
“Give. Journal. Back!” Edgar seethed.
Cleatus quirked a brow at him, unfazed. “Sorry, I feel in the mood for a game of Monkey in the Middle.” He tossed it to Daku. The light-haired boy jumped to catch the journal mid-air, right as Edgar’s fingers narrowly missed it. He, Waka, and Cleatus had too much practice with passing a basketball around. There was no way Edgar could steal it.
“Haha! I know right, Waka? ‘Edgar?’ Really? I mean, how much more dorkier can you get?”
As Edgar argued helplessly with Daku, Ceasar reached his boiling point. The ten year-old shoved Noah’s shoulder and forced his cousin to look at him. “That’s enough, Noah.”
“Enough? Really?” Noah taunted his little cousin. His lips twitched upward, sinister and devious. “Daku, over here!” He whistled over to his friend who had the book.
Daku mockingly shrugged towards Edgar, throwing the journal over his shoulder in Noah’s direction. “Oops.”
Noah caught the book with both hands. As Edgar ran up to him, out of breath and weary, Noah plastered on a fake smile.
“Well, my cousin wants me to give your diary back…” The eleven year-old began with a casual air, waiting until Edgar reached him.
“So, here you go!” Noah used the force of the charging younger boy against him. Once Edgar was within arm’s length, Noah slammed the hardcover journal into his chest, causing the boy to fly backwards at the harsh, sudden impact.
“Edgar!” Ceasar cried out, darting towards the child. The plum-eyed boy kneeled down beside him, helping Edgar sit up after that painful landing on his back. The blue and white haired-child winced, his body hurting, throbbing, aching in the most excruciating way. He felt the corners of his eyes prickling with salt, threatening to spill with tears.
The sixth-graders howled with laughter. Daku and Waka hugged one another, as they jeered at Edgar, pointing at him and his pathetic state.
“Ha! What a loser!” Waka wiped his eyes, wheezing with guffaws.
“Oh, God. We need a camera for this one.” Daku slapped Waka’s back affably, before he covered his mouth, his cheeks puffed, ready to burst in snorts and cackles.
Cleatus grinned evilly, a chuckle escaping his lips, the glint in his eyes satisfied with Edgar’s knock-out. “Nice move there, Noah.”
Noah made Edgar the most angry.
“I told you that you’d have to go home and tell your diary about how you cried today.”
Edgar would have cried, yes.
Edgar had threatened to spill tears earlier.
Now he wanted to spill blood.
As the middle-school students laughed all around him, something happened that not a single one of them could have anticipated. They’ve fought other boys who’ve messed with them before. Those boys would always reduce into sobs by the end of the fight. But Noah forgot one thing.
Edgar was a strange boy.
So when Edgar rose up and punched him, incredibly strong, in the gut, Noah felt his whole world spin as he tumbled down onto the blacktop.
“Noah!” Cleatus immediately crouched beside the eleven year-old.
Noah pushed himself up on his elbows with one hand clutching his head. “Ow! F.uck!”
Daku’s mouth fell open, his gaze shooting between his fallen comrade and the ten year-old who now stood a before them with a clenched fist punching an open palm.
“What the hell!” Waka gawked, his eyes popping out of his sockets in disbelief. “Are you some kind of psycho?!”
Ceasar fell onto his butt, completely floored. He looked up at Edgar in awe.
The blue and white-haired boy scowled. “So you think my name is funny? You think Edgar will stand for being ridiculed?”
He took quick strides closer to the middle-schoolers, jabbing a finger in Daku and Waka’s direction. He glared at them.
“’Daku?’ ‘Waka?’ Wow, your parents were reeeally creative, weren’t they?” Edgar said smugly, brushing dirt off his cheek with his knuckles.
For the first time, Daku’s and Waka’s faces were stripped of arrogance. For the first time, they were flustered and indignant. Edgar has successfully knocked them off their pedestals and shrunk them to a level of childish bickering.
“H-hey!” Daku barked back, “My mom is way more creative than your mom! Daku is unique! Edgar is common!” The light-haired boy crossed his arms in a huff.
“Yeah!” Waka agreed, his expression deadpanning. “My mom is friends with Daku’s mom! And they planned our names! Don’t you know when you put ‘Daku’ and ‘Waka’ together they make the name of a Fijian Shark God? We were named after a Fijian Shark God! How about you, Edgar? Huh? Huh? Huh?!” He snarled, stamping his feet.
Edgar ignored them, targeting Cleatus next. “And how about you? What kind of name is that? ‘Cleatus?’” The blue and white-haired child began, narrowing his eyes at the blond.
“Cleatus sounds like ‘cleats’. Hmm. I guess you were destined to be walked over all the time?” Edgar mused snarkily, oblivious to the flabbergasted stares that circled around him. “Oh, better yet! Cleatus should be ‘clean us’, because that’s what your dirty pores on your ugly face are screaming!”
Cleatus’s eyes widened. Was. Was he just ridiculously…insulted?
Edgar faced Noah, who gaped at him, boggled. “And you. Edgar does not even have words for you.” Those red eyes shone in disgust. If Edgar did not value hygiene, he would have spit at the sixth-grader’s feet.
The ten year-old boy walked back to Ceasar. He grabbed the bespectacled boy’s hand in truce and lifted him to his feet. Edgar looked at Ceasar, apologetic and regretful. Brushing the dust off of the slightly slimmer boy’s clothes, Edgar murmured, “I suppose Edgar owes you an apology. Thank you for trying. ”
Ceasar shook his head guiltily, casting a look at his Noah. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to annoy you and Fleance. I felt angry when you pushed me. I love my big cousin a lot, but I didn’t want him or his friends to hurt you.” He whispered back, just as softly.
Edgar cracked a small smile. “Let’s go to the infirmary. So they can check on your scratches and mine.”
“Uh, y-yeah. But…Fleance…”
“Edgar will let Fleance know Ceasar is a good friend.”
“R-really?! But. The spitballs. And the crayon-stealing!”
“Fleance does not hold grudges. And--”
“Edgar!” Fleance ran out into the courtyard; Teddy and Cherokee barged through the door, tailing him.
As the small child reached Edgar and stood before him, keenly studying his face for any damage, the two hall monitors spotted the Quartet of Quarrels and tore after them.
“Crap, guys. We gotta scram or it’ll be detention for a month!” Waka hissed, turning on his heel and sped away, knowing his friends would follow his lead. Daku picked up the pace at Waka’s signal, as Cleatus dragged Noah to his feet.
How pathetic. If it weren’t for the thought of detention, they wouldn’t have to humiliate themselves with such a pitiful escape. Who would fear the wrath of ten year-old safety patrols?
“We have to split up, or they’ll catch us all!” Cleatus shouted, glancing at the three other boys. They all nodded in agreement. On his count, they diverged and splintered their paths, each running an “each-man-for-himself” race to hop over the fence.
“Get back here!” One safety patrol cried out waving an angry fist chasing after Cleatus, as the other remained silent and steadily ran faster after Daku and Waka, who both jetted in the same direction. Noah slipped their clutches, sprinting to the side.
Their feet pounded against the pavement, their heavy breathing flooded their ears.
The tip of Waka’s shoe caught into to pothole and he toppled over flat.
“Are you okay?” Daku spun around to help him.
Teddy took that moment to nail them. The boy’s emanated with daunting determination; he grappled the two sixth graders and hooked them to a stop around their necks. Teddy swung the convicts around and threw them down. He grinned proudly at his conquest.
“Gah! Can’t breathe!” Daku puffed, desperately trying to claw out from beneath Teddy who callously sat on him.
“Yeah, how do you think I feel?” Waka rasped, suffering, literally under arrest by the combined weight of Daku who had collapsed on top of him and Teddy who pinned them both down with his big, fat butt!
“Run guys, run!” Waka chanted desperately, urging his friends to flee over the fence.
Cleatus looked over his shoulder at the fallen pair. Noah caught up to him and began matching his pace.
“Should we go back and get them?” The dark-haired boy panted, troubled with the thought that Daku and Waka were apprehended.
Cleatus shook his head, resolved with the issue at hand. “Can’t. If we get caught, we can’t vouch for them.”
Noah nodded in acceptance. If they could make it, they could save Daku and Waka from getting in trouble if they told a teacher first. He ran faster.
Cherokee slung his arms around Cleatus’s torso and tackled him onto the ground.
Cleatus’s eye twitched irritably as he lay flat on his stomach. “I cannot believe this. I got ensnared by a buffoon! A blockhead!”
“That’s ‘Mr. Blockhead’ to you,” Cherokee frowned as he trapped the older boy’s arms behind his back, “you’re under arrest.”
Cleatus sighed cantankerously. This child clearly watched an unhealthy amount of cop shows.
The blond looked up to see Noah hurry towards him. He glared. “No! Run! Get out!” He waved his arm angrily.
Noah paused. Reluctantly, he darted away.
With the two safety patrols occupied, there was no one left to catch him.
He had an open escape.
He pumped his arms as he bolted, dashing faster and faster, quicker and quicker, his calves and knees burning at the speed. He licked the sweat off his lip, as another droplet trickled down his nose.
He was almost at the fence.
Noah clung onto the chain link and hooked one foot in a lower hole to begin a swift climb.
Noah almost made it.
Until someone snagged him by the collar and brought him back down.
“Well, what do we have here?” A deep voice smoothly mused.
Noah shot his head up and the color drained from his face.
The pinstripe suit-clad man raised a brow. “Really Noah, what are you doing back? Causing trouble again?”
The eleven year-old felt his cheeks tinge red. He gulped, struggling to find an answer, feeling incredibly embarrassed as his feet practically dangled by the way the administrator held him up. “Er. You see…”
Principal Rocko looked unimpressed. “Do you miss me that much?” He asked sarcastically. The male shook his head with a sigh. “I’m in charge of the elementary school, Noah. You’ve already ‘graduated’ into junior high. You fail to show any signs of maturity.”
Noah’s face flushed deeper in a mix of indignant degradation.
Principal Rocko dragged the boy by the ear. “Into my office now. I will be contacting Principal Titus shortly and request he keep a better eye on his students, that stupid, stingy, lazy b.astard...” Principal Rocko growled the last part of that statement under his breath.
Noah was too mortified at the fact he was scolded in front of a bunch of ten year-olds to hear what the older man had muttered furiously.
The eleven year-old knew one thing, though.
Meeting Edgar had hit him with love at first sight.
A love to kill blue and white-haired weirdoes at first sight.
The sound of a phone clicking down onto the receiver reverberated pointedly in the room.
To Noah, that sound was almost as sharp and sonic-booming as a shooting bullet aimed for his dignity.
“So, I heard you started a fight over at the elementary school…”
Principal Titus hummed. He pushed the phone to the side. A light knock rapped the on the door before someone creaked it open. A petite secretary carrying a manila folder in her hands took small, quick strides towards the administrator. Titus looked up from his desk and smiled politely as she placed it in front of him. Noah noted that his name was typed on the tab.
“Thank you, Ms. Valerie. That is all.”
Ms. Valerie bowed respectfully and quietly walked out of the room. Principal Titus mulled over the file and skimmed through the papers containing Noah’s record. The silence stretched on as he scribbled random marks with a red pen. Noah gulped nervously.
The man sighed gravely and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “What were you thinking?” Did Noah not understand how pained his ears were now from Rocko barking about responsibilities?
The eleven year-old looked down at his hands and fiddled with the schoolbag on his lap. At least Principal Rocko let him grab it on the way back.
“That kid was the one that punched me…” Noah mumbled.
“You pushed him first Noah.” Titus reminded him with thinned eyes.
“Yeah, well he hurt my cousin!” The child snapped his head up defiantly.
“And you thought violence was the best way to solve things?” The administrator laid his chin on his palm and stared at him disbelievingly. “Furthermore Noah, you trespassed onto elementary school grounds. That is a big offense! Even if our school is next door, you’re not allowed on there without permission. Much less to hurt a younger student!”
Titus pressed his hands onto his desk and narrowed his eyes at Noah seriously. “You are lucky you are a juvenile. Do you not realize the severity of this situation? That is considered a felony.” Hah, how do you like that for responsibility Rocko? Titus inwardly smiled. Take it and shove it up your mouth!
Noah frowned at the floor.
The principal softened at the child’s ashamed expression. He exhaled deeply and pushed the rim of his glasses up. “Listen, I don’t want to scold you. However, you must be more careful. So let’s just hand you your punishment and get this over with, yeah?”
Noah looked up at him gratefully.
He could take a little punishment. He waited casually for his consequences, listing the “standard procedures” in his head. They were no big deal.
‘A month of detention like Waka had said earlier? A month of washing the board, filing papers, sweeping the class, throwing the trash away…’
“Every afternoon for two months you are to go over Edgar’s house and help him improve his speaking.”
“WHAT?!” Noah bellowed, jumping out of his seat, not caring his backpack crashed onto the tile. “You want me to do what?!”
Titus looked impassively at the enraged boy. The principal yawned. “What? You’ve spoken to Edgar before, correct? You’ve heard his speech problem. He has bad habits that he must stop.”
“I don’t know if yelling at each other counts as speaking…” Noah growled. The child threw his hands in the air. “Why? And for two months?!”
So much for gratefulness.
Principal Titus was a sadistic man.
“Noah, I know punishments for misbehavior usually last a month max here at Poseidon Middle, but the boy really needs to get rid of his speech impediment. A month of consistency is not enough. Besides, it does not have to be every day for two months. Just a least three times a week.”
Noah hissed crabbily. “Why am I the only one getting a punishment then? It takes two hands to clap, doesn’t it? Where’s his end of the deal?”
Titus mischievously grinned. “I think being forced to spend time with you is punishment enough.”
The eleven year-old glared. “I refuse! I will take anything else but this. I hate that kid.”
His Principal only shrugged. “That is your choice. If you refuse, we have other consequences to implement, but let me just tell you one thing…”
Principal Titus smirked and pressed his fingers together like a miniature chapel steeple. He pondered with an evil glint shining off his glasses.
“The students involved in this altercation were your mother’s, am I right? Without a doubt she found out about your actions. Perhaps even from your cousin himself. In fact, it was she that came up with this punishment in the first place to help you, in her own words, ‘get along with others.’ I know how your mother can get, Noah. …If you wish to defy her wishes…”
Titus smiled chirpily despite the dark aura his tone of voice materialized.
“By all means child, go ahead.”
Noah felt his insides shrivel and die.
Correction: Principal Titus was a very, very sadistic man.
Noah dragged his feet out of the Principal’s office without another word.
Ms. Valerie who was typing at her desk gave him a tiny, sympathetic smile on his way to the door.
Stepping into the waiting room of the Administration department, Noah saw Daku, Waka, and Cleatus sitting in chairs lined up against the wall. The eleven year-old boy made his way towards them and dumped himself into an open seat at Cleatus’s side.
“What are you guys doing here?” He asked wearily.
“We were waiting for you, bro.” Waka explained, shooting him a thumbs up.
Daku nodded in agreement with a slight smile. “Yeah, we already got our punishments dished out by some of the guidance counselors while you were talking to the Head Honcho.”
Noah sighed and rubbed his temple with a hand. “Please don’t remind me. Anyway, how bad do you guys have it?”
Waka shuddered and shook his head, motioning for Daku to answer. “You tell him, man. It’s too painful for me to even say!” Daku cast him a sideways glare and rolled his eyes.
“We’ve got about two weeks of cleaning duty. What sucks is that cleaning duty is after school, which means it cuts into our swim team practices. Coach Helen is going to be so ticked.” Daku cringed at the thought.
“Can you imagine how many suicide laps she’s gonna make us do?” Waka broke down into his hands as Daku thumped him on the back of the head “encouragingly.”
The light-haired boy turned to Cleatus who lifelessly gazed at a distant wall. Daku waved a hand in front of his face. No response.
Daku’s eyes boggled. “Hey, are you okay dude? You haven’t said anything this whole time.”
Cleatus slowly turned to look at the trio, his expression stone cold and blank.
Noah, Daku, and Waka squinted at one another, puzzled.
Cleatus almost looked depressed.
Noah laid a hand on the blond’s shoulder and he felt the corners of his lips tug down in concern. “What’s up? You worried about your punishment?”
Cleatus faced the wall once again, his voice empty.
“They’ve taken away my library privileges. For the rest of the term.”
Waka answered first with a bit of uncertainty. “O-oh. Wow. Man. I’m. I’m sorry. That really…um…really sucks?”
Daku cautiously patted his back in…comfort?
“At least you already picked out the books you wanted for your report, right?” Noah tried to offer helpfully.
“Let’s just change the subject.” Cleatus sighed melancholically.
“Uh. Right.” Daku nodded, and looked at Noah. “So what about you? Why were you in the Principal’s office for so long?”
Noah rubbed his face in frustration. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
Waka raised his brows doubtfully. “What? Is it that horrible? Try us!”
Noah watched at how his three friends fixedly stared at him, expecting an announcement of death. He caved into the pressure and spilled the news.
“I have to go to that psycho’s house for like two months and help him with that stupid speech problem of his.”
He neglected to mention only reason he was going through with this task was to avoid his mother’s wrath.
Waka almost fell out of his chair as Daku’s jaw dropped. Even Cleatus snapped out of his sad-stricken-stupor.
"Oh, my God. Noah! He’s going to murder you!” Waka oh-so-intelligently commented in a frantic burst.
Daku peered anxiously at his poor, poor ally. “How cruel. Do you want us to petition for you? That’s such a long punishment! There’s no way something like that is a part of school conduct.”
“No kidding,” Waka chimed in with a grimace, “that sounds like pure torture. How messed up!”
Noah nodded wordlessly, too wrapped up in his own thoughts. How could his own mother make him go through something so painful?
“No, don’t petition. I don’t have the energy to argue” –with Mom— “about this. No point in causing more trouble either. I might make it worse for myself if I do.” The blue-eyed boy leaned his head back against the wall. He hopelessly counted the dots on the ceiling, already accepting the fact there was no solution out.
His friends sighed along in the silence to fit his mood.
A few moments later, Cleatus spoke.
“Just remember, Noah. If that Edgar boy bothers you…”
“Oh, whaddya’ gonna do to him, Mr. Dirty Pores?”
“Quit your snickering, Waka. Just like your mother, you must not be very creative if you had to use someone else’s insult.”
“Hey! Do you want to talk about my Mama again, as.shole?”
“All right you two, stop.”
Noah blocked out the bickering that sparkled between the three sixth-graders beside him as he covered his eyes with the back of one hand. He was going to get chewed out once he got home. The thought already made him tired.
Ending Notes: How was it for you? Tedious? Slow in the beginning? Yes, yes I know. I apologize, but I hope you will understand why things must build up. At this point the summary and the title must seem vague, but I promise it will be wrapped up in the next chapter. This fiction was originally supposed to be a one-shot no more than ten thousand words, but several factors have convinced me it was better to split it up into two parts. One: I wanted to have this posted before I left for vacation (New York and Canada, here I come!) Two: I did not want to intimidate anyone with a ridiculous word count!
I have planned this story for about four years, but it never took flight. Now that the plot bunnies have bitten me, I am proud to say I have everything outlined—I am notorious for never finishing large projects, but I’m happy this one will be my first. Anyway, as you can see this chapter is very Noah-dominated; this is a Noah centric, but Edgar will be playing a bigger role, no doubt about that! Funnily enough, this used to be an Edgar-centric. The reasons for this change will be explained in the next installation.
Now time for my favorite part!
Here are my excuses for everything:
--Why is Edgar a fan of plants? Well, he loves his healing plants in the comic, so why not here? (No, really though, his plants fetish will be more central in the next part….don’t get any wrong ideas!)
--I felt Daku and Waka were good additions. They’re fun, they’re friendly, and they seemed more likely to bully Edgar more than Soar or Ameer, who were my other two options. (Especially since the sharkies already dissed Edgar in the comic!)
--Cleatus does not speak like a normal eleven year-old. Why? Because he’s gifted, people.
--Rose is Noah’s mother. She saved Noah when his tail got run over in the comic! She was a good Mommy to pet Noah.
--Side note: I was going to make Ceasar’s parents Venus and Nelson, but I didn’t want to make everyone’s brains explode with the sheer f-ery I’ve done with the characters.
Well, we’re about halfway done, but the Noah and Edgar fun has not even begun! I hope you can stick around. The finale will be posted sometime next month, as I will be occupied with family and travel. Though I will do my best to make it as soon as possible! Oh, about the glaring grammatical errors I may have—I’m sorry! They were just done for stylistic purposes. Thank you for your time and for kindly reading this chapter.
Last edited by Aeglera
on Thu Jul 22, 2010 8:03 pm, edited 3 times in total.
- Posts: 3532
- Joined: Sun Jan 20, 2008 5:02 pm
- Location: Belgium, Europe
I'm so happy to have a new author on these boards, and such a talent too!
I love your style, it's so literary and rich with imagery! I can't wait until you finish it!
I like it a lot, the kids are so cute! You picked great roles for everyone to play, everyone's in it! It's a lot of fun. I also really like the pictures between the parts, it's a nice touch.
Oh, and I really laughed out loud when I read about Cleatus' special punishment xD
- Gladiator Ace
- Posts: 406
- Joined: Tue Jun 15, 2010 1:00 pm
Sihaya, you don't know how happy you've made me.
My day was a bit stressful, but your kind words really put a smile on my face. Thank you so much for being so sweet! I really appreciate that you took the time to read this piece, and I am beyond glad that you enjoyed it. I'm quite honored that you got a laugh out of it as well! I was also sort of embarrassed that this fiction wasn't getting any bites, but knowing that at least one person was able to like it makes me feel better. I'm very flattered and grateful you approve.
Though I do have one question: ...I am allowed to "un-censor" my words, correct? I noticed that a "Nelson" popped up in my post. Haha! Hopefully I won't get in trouble if I change it to its proper vulgarness...?
Thank you once again! I was very touched.
- Posts: 3532
- Joined: Sun Jan 20, 2008 5:02 pm
- Location: Belgium, Europe
Uncensor all you want! The fanfiction board allows anything (within reason, of course xD). We used to write fanfics with extra dots all over the place back in 1.0, but luckily for us this censor is smarter
You'll get the hang of it soon enough!
- Posts: 734
- Joined: Tue Aug 24, 2010 2:12 pm
I agree! It was quite lovely! I would love it if you finished it! It was a breath of fresh air. Noah, Daku, Waka, Cleatus, and Nelson all seem, sound, and feel like real children.
All Hail Sigart, Mistress of Zombiedom!
Zombie Clone #3
- No Ace - Animal
- Posts: 45
- Joined: Thu Aug 05, 2010 10:29 am
Ooh, it was great, Aeglera!
I love how you've taken so many details from the comic (like Edgar's plants and journal, Ceasar's wish to be Fleances friend, principal Titus and Rocko as middle and elementary school headmasters and of course the characters personalities etc) even the story itself is so much different from it. You have a great imagination! Little Noah, Cleatus, Edgar and Daku and Waka were all so cute and funny! And poor Ceasar, that's just how I would imagine him as a child xD
Aww, I feel sorry for Edgar for being teased and having a speech problem :/ But I'm glad he could stand up for himself and Fleance! Noah even got punched by him! ;D I'm sure and I hope that Noah and Edgar will become great pals in the next chapter. In Finland we have a good proverb to descripe Noah's (and maybe a bit of Edgar's) acts: rakkaudestahan se hevonenkin potkii! It can be translated that even a horse will kick out of love and it means that Noah acted the way he did and almost made Edgar cry because he likes him (even he doesn't realize it yet) xD
I like all the pictures, too! Expecially the pancakes, yum! I'm looking forward to the next chapter
- Gladiator Ace
- Posts: 406
- Joined: Tue Jun 15, 2010 1:00 pm
You guys, thank you so much. You don't know how happy reading your kind messages has made me. Today was rather stressful in class, so this cheered up my mood immensely!
First of all, to you Mumette and Ywi, thank you very much for taking the time to read this chapter. I'm grateful that you were willing to spare this piece a bit of your attention. *laugh*
Mum, I'm so thrilled you enjoyed it. And I'm so thrilled you were able to feel for this story! And yes, chapter two will be on it's way--apologies for the delay. Muah, hugs and kisses!
Ywi, reading responses like yours truly adds extra benefits to writing and in the end makes the effort worthwhile. I could write endless amounts of pages and still be happy if only one person left me a sweet message like yours! I'm honored you thought well of this fanfiction--and wow! You're very perceptive. I'm so happy you were able to pick up on the little details I sprinkled around and even appreciate them.
And haha! Yes, Edgar is no pushover in this tale. Speaking of horses, it was interesting knocking Noah off his high horse when Edgar punched him. Your proverb fits a big puzzle in this story--the innocence of unknown love! Haha Thank you so much again.
- Posts: 734
- Joined: Tue Aug 24, 2010 2:12 pm
I'm waiting for chapter two!!!!
All Hail Sigart, Mistress of Zombiedom!
Zombie Clone #3
- No Ace - Animal
- Posts: 45
- Joined: Thu Aug 05, 2010 10:29 am
You're very welcome! I'm so glad my comment cheered you up and that you appreciated it so much!
..ooh, I just realized you're the writer of the Sweet talker! It's the funniest and cutest fic I've ever read and I just love it! x) Oh, and you wrote the Edgar song, too! Wow, I think I just became your fan xD