1st Place
Ellie Wingate
North Hall Middle School
Jack Frost
She hated coffee, yet she found herself returning to the homely coffee shop day after day, even before she secured a job there. She was drawn to it, in some way, and the connection made her return. Now, she sat, perched on a stool by the window, enjoying a pastry and hot chocolate during her break. The woman leaned back in her chair, relaxing as she allowed the rays of sunlight to coat her features. The warmth was much appreciated; the southern girl was not used to the bitter chill that came with the snow and seemed to engulf everything else around her. The world outside was covered in a light dusting of powdery snow, mirroring the sugar on her pastry. The snow clouds covered the sky, causing everything to have a bright- white hue. The woman’s closeness to the icy window made her shiver, yet she leaned in closer, peering through the glass out onto the street.
The woman’s eyes flashed away from the tranquil scene as she heard the ringing bell of the door opening. She was suddenly struck by the blast of cold air following the man, and she shivered into her sweatshirt. Slowly raising her hot chocolate to her mouth, she let the warm liquid soothe her body. The calming warmth spread throughout her body, yet she still quivering. The young lady looked up- who walked in? She hoped it wasn’t Miss Anne- as much as she adored the little lady, she shouldn’t be out in this weather. Miss Anne, who once taught them how to make tea the ‘proper English Way,’ was too fragile in her old years to be caught in the snow storm. She wiled for it to not be Marcus either; the frequent customer was never seen without his many children. Although the youth would share their joyful accounts of their first snow day, the small shop was too peaceful right now for the bustle of children. No, she could see now that it wasn’t Anne, nor Marcus; the man stood tall, with spiked, silvery hairー a stranger.
Although the shop was located in a busy city, they rarely had new customers. Most preferred the quicker, brand-named coffee houses located down the street. It was nothing but fate that brought most customers in. However, it rarely snowed the way it was snowing now- it rarely snowed ever. She doubted it was anything more than the bitter chill that drove the man into the warm coffee house.
She blushed down into her coffee when the stranger’s eyes found hers. Upon looking up, she found the stranger still looking at her with a smirk. He stepped away from the door before taking off his own light jacket, still observing her with his taunting eyes. She finally shook her head and looked away; she would not be caught shamelessly ogling the stranger. The man laughed at her again and stepped up to the counter. She was too far away to hear his order, but she could clearly see the sever's shocked expression and raised eyebrow. What had the man ordered?
The woman turned back to the window, where two young children had attempted to begin building a snowman. She laughed as the powdery snow fell apart and coated the children, causing them to laugh and throw it at one another. The woman laughed again before flickering her eyes to the rest of the scene. The gentle snowfall had suddenly turned into large flakes which formed a thick blanket of snow on the ground. It was no longer simply a powder- the snow engulfed any and everything. The snow was falling more heavily, now, and it wouldn’t be long before they were snowed in. How had she missed this? She was watching the window mere seconds ago before the stranger walked inー now everything was covered in snow.
The woman hurriedly packed up her items and finished her snack, as she needed to get home quickly. She had worried about her long walk home before this happened, but the snow certainly wouldn't help her on her trek. The woman sighed as she saw the snow in front of the door was pilled up almost to her knees. She attempted to push the door open anyway, but it wouldn’t budge. There would be no leaving until someone came and cleared the pathway.
She groaned again and returned to her window-side seat. What would she do? How long would they be stuck here? At least she was in a place with heat and food, she thought. It would be terrible if she was stranded anywhere else.
The woman finally sat back in her seat and looked around the room. Kelly, the owner, was still here, and so was Belle, who was working at the counter. A young couple sat in one of the back corners- Matt and Mia. Leo sat in the corner, nursing a coffee while he worked on his school work. Where had Stranger gone?
She was startled by a cup being sat down beside her. A cup of ice water, to be specific, and a bowl of ice cream. In this weather? Weird. A strong arm slipped around her shoulder as he hoisted himself into one of the barstools, and all of a sudden Stranger was sitting next to her.
Found him.
“Um, Hi?” She said questioningly.
“Hello. How are you doing today?” The stranger responded, acting as if he was chatting with an old friend.
Oh, dear, the woman thought, was she supposed to know who he was? No, she would know if she had seen him before; the man had silvery, spiked hair, striking blue eyes, and a distinct scar trailing from his ear to his chin.
“I’m good,” she responded, “Although I do wish it would quit snowing long enough for me to get home.”
The man laughed for a moment, “Do you not like the snow?”
“I have nothing against it- it’s so beautiful to watch, but it’s just so,” she paused, “so cold.”
He laughed louder this time, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he threw his head back.
The woman blushed deeply- it really wasn't supposed to be that funny.
“I would hope so, sweetheart, that’s kind of how it works.” He said.
The pair continued to chat for hours, their laughs frequently disturbing the calm of the coffee house, which earned them a few dirty looks.
“Are you from around here? Where are you from?” She finally asked.
The man shook his head, “No, I’m just visiting. I’m from,” he paused, “well, somewhere much, much colder.”
That didn’t really answer her question, but she wasn’t going to push.
The man looked out to the window. “Say, which way do you live? The snow has cleared in some places.”
“This way, to the right.” She said. Sure enough, a distinct pathway had formed, although the snow still remained everywhere else. Almost as if it was for her. Weird.
“Are you ready to go? I would get out of here before it starts again.” He said, interrupting her thoughts. “Here, I’ll walk you home.”
He held out his arm for her, and the pair walked out the door.
ー・一
“This is me,” she said, “thank you for walking me home.”
“You’re quite welcome, sweetheart. I’d worry about you if I just let you wander home.” He kindly smiled down to her.
“Hey, wait!” She called out, “What is your name?”
“They call me Jack,” He smirked, “Jack Frost.”
She hated coffee, yet she found herself returning to the homely coffee shop day after day, even before she secured a job there. She was drawn to it, in some way, and the connection made her return. Now, she sat, perched on a stool by the window, enjoying a pastry and hot chocolate during her break. The woman leaned back in her chair, relaxing as she allowed the rays of sunlight to coat her features. The warmth was much appreciated; the southern girl was not used to the bitter chill that came with the snow and seemed to engulf everything else around her. The world outside was covered in a light dusting of powdery snow, mirroring the sugar on her pastry. The snow clouds covered the sky, causing everything to have a bright- white hue. The woman’s closeness to the icy window made her shiver, yet she leaned in closer, peering through the glass out onto the street.
The woman’s eyes flashed away from the tranquil scene as she heard the ringing bell of the door opening. She was suddenly struck by the blast of cold air following the man, and she shivered into her sweatshirt. Slowly raising her hot chocolate to her mouth, she let the warm liquid soothe her body. The calming warmth spread throughout her body, yet she still quivering. The young lady looked up- who walked in? She hoped it wasn’t Miss Anne- as much as she adored the little lady, she shouldn’t be out in this weather. Miss Anne, who once taught them how to make tea the ‘proper English Way,’ was too fragile in her old years to be caught in the snow storm. She wiled for it to not be Marcus either; the frequent customer was never seen without his many children. Although the youth would share their joyful accounts of their first snow day, the small shop was too peaceful right now for the bustle of children. No, she could see now that it wasn’t Anne, nor Marcus; the man stood tall, with spiked, silvery hairー a stranger.
Although the shop was located in a busy city, they rarely had new customers. Most preferred the quicker, brand-named coffee houses located down the street. It was nothing but fate that brought most customers in. However, it rarely snowed the way it was snowing now- it rarely snowed ever. She doubted it was anything more than the bitter chill that drove the man into the warm coffee house.
She blushed down into her coffee when the stranger’s eyes found hers. Upon looking up, she found the stranger still looking at her with a smirk. He stepped away from the door before taking off his own light jacket, still observing her with his taunting eyes. She finally shook her head and looked away; she would not be caught shamelessly ogling the stranger. The man laughed at her again and stepped up to the counter. She was too far away to hear his order, but she could clearly see the sever's shocked expression and raised eyebrow. What had the man ordered?
The woman turned back to the window, where two young children had attempted to begin building a snowman. She laughed as the powdery snow fell apart and coated the children, causing them to laugh and throw it at one another. The woman laughed again before flickering her eyes to the rest of the scene. The gentle snowfall had suddenly turned into large flakes which formed a thick blanket of snow on the ground. It was no longer simply a powder- the snow engulfed any and everything. The snow was falling more heavily, now, and it wouldn’t be long before they were snowed in. How had she missed this? She was watching the window mere seconds ago before the stranger walked inー now everything was covered in snow.
The woman hurriedly packed up her items and finished her snack, as she needed to get home quickly. She had worried about her long walk home before this happened, but the snow certainly wouldn't help her on her trek. The woman sighed as she saw the snow in front of the door was pilled up almost to her knees. She attempted to push the door open anyway, but it wouldn’t budge. There would be no leaving until someone came and cleared the pathway.
She groaned again and returned to her window-side seat. What would she do? How long would they be stuck here? At least she was in a place with heat and food, she thought. It would be terrible if she was stranded anywhere else.
The woman finally sat back in her seat and looked around the room. Kelly, the owner, was still here, and so was Belle, who was working at the counter. A young couple sat in one of the back corners- Matt and Mia. Leo sat in the corner, nursing a coffee while he worked on his school work. Where had Stranger gone?
She was startled by a cup being sat down beside her. A cup of ice water, to be specific, and a bowl of ice cream. In this weather? Weird. A strong arm slipped around her shoulder as he hoisted himself into one of the barstools, and all of a sudden Stranger was sitting next to her.
Found him.
“Um, Hi?” She said questioningly.
“Hello. How are you doing today?” The stranger responded, acting as if he was chatting with an old friend.
Oh, dear, the woman thought, was she supposed to know who he was? No, she would know if she had seen him before; the man had silvery, spiked hair, striking blue eyes, and a distinct scar trailing from his ear to his chin.
“I’m good,” she responded, “Although I do wish it would quit snowing long enough for me to get home.”
The man laughed for a moment, “Do you not like the snow?”
“I have nothing against it- it’s so beautiful to watch, but it’s just so,” she paused, “so cold.”
He laughed louder this time, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he threw his head back.
The woman blushed deeply- it really wasn't supposed to be that funny.
“I would hope so, sweetheart, that’s kind of how it works.” He said.
The pair continued to chat for hours, their laughs frequently disturbing the calm of the coffee house, which earned them a few dirty looks.
“Are you from around here? Where are you from?” She finally asked.
The man shook his head, “No, I’m just visiting. I’m from,” he paused, “well, somewhere much, much colder.”
That didn’t really answer her question, but she wasn’t going to push.
The man looked out to the window. “Say, which way do you live? The snow has cleared in some places.”
“This way, to the right.” She said. Sure enough, a distinct pathway had formed, although the snow still remained everywhere else. Almost as if it was for her. Weird.
“Are you ready to go? I would get out of here before it starts again.” He said, interrupting her thoughts. “Here, I’ll walk you home.”
He held out his arm for her, and the pair walked out the door.
ー・一
“This is me,” she said, “thank you for walking me home.”
“You’re quite welcome, sweetheart. I’d worry about you if I just let you wander home.” He kindly smiled down to her.
“Hey, wait!” She called out, “What is your name?”
“They call me Jack,” He smirked, “Jack Frost.”
2nd Place
Kailyn Neal
Cherokee Bluff Middle School
War of the Words
Another job lost. A faint feeling of sadness fell over the city of Paper#42, immediately followed by pink and greyish clusters that began to tumble over the city, that were known as The Erasers. The Eraser citizens were in charge of burying the mistakes of the community, and firing those citizens who were not fit for their jobs. Little c had been the victim of this mistake in the community. However, the loss of little c was minor, and he was replaced with Mr. Capital C, who was found more fit for little c’s job. As this was only a minor casualty, the citizens of city Paper#42 continued with their daily work.
There were many places a citizen could be placed to work in the paper communities. One of the industries was known as Grammar. Many different characters worked in the Grammar industry such as the exclamation marks, periods, and question marks. The exclamation marks’ work was always exciting, and very thrilling. The periods were casual, and most commonly used. Then there were the question marks, who never knew what they seemed to be doing, and were always were inquiring upon their work. Of course, there were other industries within the paper district, such as the Phrases and Clauses company. All of the companies worked towards a common goal to create an article, essay, or newspaper. All in all, life in the city of Paper #42 was quite peaceful, with the exception for the growing hatred towards the numbers. The letter citizens and number citizens were completely different, and shared nothing in common. Despite the peace within the paper communities, the letters could no longer withstand the numbers. Tension was growing between the numbers and the letters, and they were on the verge of war.
* * *
The peace between the numbers and letters was corrupted, and soon they declared war on each other. The numbers were forced to leave their number families, and gather their battle weapons. Number line bow and arrows were used among the first line of number troops, while pie chart shields were used to defend the second line of soldiers. Meanwhile, the letters formed in lines that read destruction, war, and chaos. Their words were powerful, but would it be enough to stop the numbers? Now angry as ever, the numbers charged, and bellowed out their battle cry! They began to shriek all the numbers of pi, 3.1415926…! Soon, the armies clashed together, creating chaos, and destruction.
Finally, when the great war was over, the fighting grounds were left in ruins. Commas were in a coma, pi shields were left in slices, and the golden ratio was now silver. But it seemed as if there was something new emerging from this catastrophe! A new force was being created, known to us as algebra. The hatred between the numbers and letters had subsided. Now the numbers and letters work together to solve for the unknown!
3rd Place
Zoe Davidson
North Hall Middle School
Sherlock
The sound of chalk hitting the board and the clock ticking fills the classroom. Mr. Ellery, my history teacher, is a quick talker, but that’s not a problem for me. I like to see myself as an intelligent person for a 17-year-old. Although life has taken its toll on me, I’ve learned to manage. What I mean by toll is my acquaintance Don. To make this short, we met, things happened, and now I’m his “assistant detective.” This man is very passionate when it comes to mysteries. Although, I don’t blame him, they are very suspenseful. Sad part is, he has no friends. No one really understands him, except me, according to him. That’s why he asked me to be his assistant detective.
“Ms. Fae, are you paying attention?” Mr. Ellery says sternly.
“Huh?” I say.
“I asked you a question.” Mr. Ellery says, clearly annoyed.
Ugh, thanks to Don I missed what the teacher said, I’ll just take a guess, I think.
“Um, 1944.” I say.
“You are correct,” He says. “please pay more attention.”
“Yes sir.” I say.
The bell starts to ring. Now I’ll be saved from the embarrassment, thank you, bell! I think as I walk out of the classroom. The halls start to flood with people. Freckles here, acne there, neon blue-streaked-hair here. I look out the window of the third floor of the cream-colored school building. Rays of yellow come out from the sky, the warmth of the sun hugging my skin. As I walk towards the stairs, I see him.
“Hello, assistant,” Don says as I approach him.
“Hi, Nix,” I say irritated.
“Please,” He says and starts to walk down the stairs, expecting me to follow. “call me Don.”
“I’ll call you what I want,” I say and follow him down the stairs. “it’s a free country.”
“That is true.” He says.
I don’t know what Don sees me as, a friend? An acquaintance? It’s hard to tell, you can barely read him. His pale blue eyes never show anything as to what he’s feeling.
“Have you seen anything on the news?” Don asks as we walk down the hall of the second floor.
He wants a mystery to solve, typical of him. I say, “Nope, nothing.”
A few doors down we can see an open clubroom door. Distressed voices can be heard as well.
“How did this happen?” I hear.
Don’s eyes spark, clearly excited, and he starts to run down the hall.
“Don,” I say in confusion. “what’re you doing?!”
If I run after him, I risk the chance of messing up my bun! I guess that’s just a risk I must take, I’m his assistant after all, I think and start to run after him. I catch up with him and stop at the open door next to him. I look inside the classroom to see two girls looking at us, one with short auburn hair, and one with long raven hair. The raven-haired girl reminds me of a female version of Don, with pale blue eyes.
Ending the silence that seemed to last an eternity, I say, “Is something wrong?”
“Tammy,” Says the auburn-haired girl. “I’m glad you’re here, something seems wrong.”
“Well, what is it?” I ask, walking into the classroom, followed by Don.
“Well, I went here for a club meeting, and the door was unlocked,” The raven-haired girl says. “and then Audrey comes in and says, ‘How did you get in here? The door was locked.’ Then I see she’s holding the key to the clubroom. I get confused and tell her it was unlocked. Then we started hearing some rattling underneath the floor and started to panic, realizing I was locked into the clubroom. So—”
“Basically, we think it’s ghosts.” The auburn-haired girl named Audrey says.
The atmosphere of the clubroom goes from normal to ominous, a few chills go down my spine. I don’t believe in ghosts, but I don’t know the door would be unlocked then locked, maybe they are real.
“Aw man,” Don starts to say. “I was hoping it was a murder.”
The girls suddenly looking wide-eyed, I start to explain and say, “Don’t listen to him, he’s weird.”
The girls nod and then start to watch Don. I look over to him and see he’s studying the room.
Seeming impatient, the raven-haired girl asks, “What do you think it is—”
“Shh, I need silence.” Don says cutting her off.
The room is quiet for a minute until Don leaves unexpectedly. I motion the girls to follow him, seeing as they look confused. Understandable, you never know what this man is thinking. We follow downstairs to the first floor of the building.
“Where are you going?” I ask, trying to keep up with him.
“To where the noise is coming from.” He says and stops suddenly.
I bump into him, not expecting him to stop, then the girls bump into me. Without saying a word, Don points his finger to the classroom down the hall with the door opening. A technician comes out of the classroom holding a ladder, some light bulbs, and a ring of keys. The technician closes the classroom door and locks it with one of the keys in the ring.
Noticing that we don’t understand, he starts to explain, “The technician is below your clubroom. So, what happened was, after Audrey arrived at the clubroom, assuming that she entered the clubroom early, where it was unlocked, the technician locked the door. Since the clubroom is at the end of the hallway of the second floor, that would give him about 10-15 minutes in classroom underneath the clubroom. Which would be enough time for the raven-headed girl—”
“My name is Brianna.” The raven-headed girl says.
“Right, Brianna,” He continues. “To take the key for the clubroom and unlock the door after the technician locked it. Also, like I mentioned, the technician was below your clubroom. So, the rattling you were hearing was just the technician replacing the lightbulbs of the classroom below you.”
Wow. He’s a genius.
“That makes a lot more sense,” Audrey says, sounding relieved. “I thought it was ghosts!”
“Thank you!” Brianna says happily.
“It’s no problem.” Don says and starts to walk to the entrance of the school.
I wave the girls goodbye and catch up with Don.
Later that night, I came to visit Don’s house. Having finished my homework, I walk over to the couch of the living room to see the television on the news channel. Intrigued, I sit down and watch the channel.
WOMAN FOUND DEAD IN CRUMMY APARTMENT.
Don will like this.
“Hey, Nix,” I call into the dining room whilst having a smirk. “you might want to see this.”
Don enters the living room with a mug in his hand and says, “What is it?”
I point to the television and his eyes start moving, reading the headline, while putting down his mug on the side table beside the couch.
“They’re saying it’s a suicide.” I tell him.
Don starts to smile and says, “Well, we’ll just have to see about that!”
Don starts to run for his coat and shoes.
“Wait, Don, it’s late, will they even let us in?” I call to him.
Wait, I called him by his first name.
“I have my ways, they’ll let me in.” He says and starts putting on his shoes, not noticing the change in name-calling.
“I’ll trust you with that.” I say and get up.
There are so many things wrong with this idea: It’s late, I should be going home, and I doubt the police will let us into the apartment that held the suicide. As I run out the door after Don, I look out onto the streets of London. The damp streets having recently been rained on, the cold wind flowing through the stray hairs that were let loose from my bun, the street lamps lighting up the dark night. The sprinkling of cold rain starts to dab on my face, but I don’t care. As I start to catch up with Don, I find myself smiling. We’re both smiling. Huh. I guess we have something in common. Maybe Don was right, I do understand him.
The sound of chalk hitting the board and the clock ticking fills the classroom. Mr. Ellery, my history teacher, is a quick talker, but that’s not a problem for me. I like to see myself as an intelligent person for a 17-year-old. Although life has taken its toll on me, I’ve learned to manage. What I mean by toll is my acquaintance Don. To make this short, we met, things happened, and now I’m his “assistant detective.” This man is very passionate when it comes to mysteries. Although, I don’t blame him, they are very suspenseful. Sad part is, he has no friends. No one really understands him, except me, according to him. That’s why he asked me to be his assistant detective.
“Ms. Fae, are you paying attention?” Mr. Ellery says sternly.
“Huh?” I say.
“I asked you a question.” Mr. Ellery says, clearly annoyed.
Ugh, thanks to Don I missed what the teacher said, I’ll just take a guess, I think.
“Um, 1944.” I say.
“You are correct,” He says. “please pay more attention.”
“Yes sir.” I say.
The bell starts to ring. Now I’ll be saved from the embarrassment, thank you, bell! I think as I walk out of the classroom. The halls start to flood with people. Freckles here, acne there, neon blue-streaked-hair here. I look out the window of the third floor of the cream-colored school building. Rays of yellow come out from the sky, the warmth of the sun hugging my skin. As I walk towards the stairs, I see him.
“Hello, assistant,” Don says as I approach him.
“Hi, Nix,” I say irritated.
“Please,” He says and starts to walk down the stairs, expecting me to follow. “call me Don.”
“I’ll call you what I want,” I say and follow him down the stairs. “it’s a free country.”
“That is true.” He says.
I don’t know what Don sees me as, a friend? An acquaintance? It’s hard to tell, you can barely read him. His pale blue eyes never show anything as to what he’s feeling.
“Have you seen anything on the news?” Don asks as we walk down the hall of the second floor.
He wants a mystery to solve, typical of him. I say, “Nope, nothing.”
A few doors down we can see an open clubroom door. Distressed voices can be heard as well.
“How did this happen?” I hear.
Don’s eyes spark, clearly excited, and he starts to run down the hall.
“Don,” I say in confusion. “what’re you doing?!”
If I run after him, I risk the chance of messing up my bun! I guess that’s just a risk I must take, I’m his assistant after all, I think and start to run after him. I catch up with him and stop at the open door next to him. I look inside the classroom to see two girls looking at us, one with short auburn hair, and one with long raven hair. The raven-haired girl reminds me of a female version of Don, with pale blue eyes.
Ending the silence that seemed to last an eternity, I say, “Is something wrong?”
“Tammy,” Says the auburn-haired girl. “I’m glad you’re here, something seems wrong.”
“Well, what is it?” I ask, walking into the classroom, followed by Don.
“Well, I went here for a club meeting, and the door was unlocked,” The raven-haired girl says. “and then Audrey comes in and says, ‘How did you get in here? The door was locked.’ Then I see she’s holding the key to the clubroom. I get confused and tell her it was unlocked. Then we started hearing some rattling underneath the floor and started to panic, realizing I was locked into the clubroom. So—”
“Basically, we think it’s ghosts.” The auburn-haired girl named Audrey says.
The atmosphere of the clubroom goes from normal to ominous, a few chills go down my spine. I don’t believe in ghosts, but I don’t know the door would be unlocked then locked, maybe they are real.
“Aw man,” Don starts to say. “I was hoping it was a murder.”
The girls suddenly looking wide-eyed, I start to explain and say, “Don’t listen to him, he’s weird.”
The girls nod and then start to watch Don. I look over to him and see he’s studying the room.
Seeming impatient, the raven-haired girl asks, “What do you think it is—”
“Shh, I need silence.” Don says cutting her off.
The room is quiet for a minute until Don leaves unexpectedly. I motion the girls to follow him, seeing as they look confused. Understandable, you never know what this man is thinking. We follow downstairs to the first floor of the building.
“Where are you going?” I ask, trying to keep up with him.
“To where the noise is coming from.” He says and stops suddenly.
I bump into him, not expecting him to stop, then the girls bump into me. Without saying a word, Don points his finger to the classroom down the hall with the door opening. A technician comes out of the classroom holding a ladder, some light bulbs, and a ring of keys. The technician closes the classroom door and locks it with one of the keys in the ring.
Noticing that we don’t understand, he starts to explain, “The technician is below your clubroom. So, what happened was, after Audrey arrived at the clubroom, assuming that she entered the clubroom early, where it was unlocked, the technician locked the door. Since the clubroom is at the end of the hallway of the second floor, that would give him about 10-15 minutes in classroom underneath the clubroom. Which would be enough time for the raven-headed girl—”
“My name is Brianna.” The raven-headed girl says.
“Right, Brianna,” He continues. “To take the key for the clubroom and unlock the door after the technician locked it. Also, like I mentioned, the technician was below your clubroom. So, the rattling you were hearing was just the technician replacing the lightbulbs of the classroom below you.”
Wow. He’s a genius.
“That makes a lot more sense,” Audrey says, sounding relieved. “I thought it was ghosts!”
“Thank you!” Brianna says happily.
“It’s no problem.” Don says and starts to walk to the entrance of the school.
I wave the girls goodbye and catch up with Don.
Later that night, I came to visit Don’s house. Having finished my homework, I walk over to the couch of the living room to see the television on the news channel. Intrigued, I sit down and watch the channel.
WOMAN FOUND DEAD IN CRUMMY APARTMENT.
Don will like this.
“Hey, Nix,” I call into the dining room whilst having a smirk. “you might want to see this.”
Don enters the living room with a mug in his hand and says, “What is it?”
I point to the television and his eyes start moving, reading the headline, while putting down his mug on the side table beside the couch.
“They’re saying it’s a suicide.” I tell him.
Don starts to smile and says, “Well, we’ll just have to see about that!”
Don starts to run for his coat and shoes.
“Wait, Don, it’s late, will they even let us in?” I call to him.
Wait, I called him by his first name.
“I have my ways, they’ll let me in.” He says and starts putting on his shoes, not noticing the change in name-calling.
“I’ll trust you with that.” I say and get up.
There are so many things wrong with this idea: It’s late, I should be going home, and I doubt the police will let us into the apartment that held the suicide. As I run out the door after Don, I look out onto the streets of London. The damp streets having recently been rained on, the cold wind flowing through the stray hairs that were let loose from my bun, the street lamps lighting up the dark night. The sprinkling of cold rain starts to dab on my face, but I don’t care. As I start to catch up with Don, I find myself smiling. We’re both smiling. Huh. I guess we have something in common. Maybe Don was right, I do understand him.