Chapter One: Boredom

No Character Bias

It is winter, but not the winter so fondly described in books and movies.

It is cold; cold enough so that nobody dares venture outside without a heavy jacket and pants, but yet it does not snow. Instead, it rains, and rains a lot, with the precipitation falling heavily and in a rude, messy manner, leaving the potholed roads filled with muddy water and the pavement shiny and glistening, though without the glamour. The trees, robbed of their leaves by the autumn before, stand awkwardly, naked and hurt by the bite of the early-morning frost. The skies are painted an intrusive grey colour by the unforgiving clouds, the sun hidden away somewhere as if ashamed of the dull world it sees. Houses are closed up and unfriendly, the windows shut and the curtains drawn to try to keep in as much of the rare lifeblood of heat as possible.

Weekends, in this time, are somewhat of a curse and a blessing. They are a blessing because in them one can sleep in as long as they want, and not have to wake up early to brave the frost and fog. They are a curse because when the mind is not preoccupied with work and school, and when outside is a battleground of the elements (and, admittedly most importantly, when the Internet cuts out), they are left with nothing to do.

This is happening now.

"We could p-play Monopoly," Wybie suggests quietly, after a moment where the three of them – him, Coraline, and Norman – were trying desperately to think of something, anything, to do. Before he spoke up, he had been intensely staring at one of the many posters more or less covering Coraline's entire bedroom walls. Ask him to tell you the colour of Coraline's wallpaper and he would shrug and laugh uncomfortably, but tell him to describe what was actually on her walls, and he would be much more confident. There are various movie posters: Frozen, Wreck-It-Ralph, and an old one for The Rocky Horror Picture Show, to name a few. There are pictures drawn by Coraline herself, which are amazing in detail and creativity and very rarely coloured in. There are many other things on her walls too: pictures, postcards from her numerous overseas penpals, fake flowers, a clay face she made in her art class, and a moderate-sized mirror above her cluttered blue dresser. Coraline's room is messy, and colourful, and chaotic, and generally a very energizing place to be in. Apart from today.

"Monopoly's boring," Coraline groans. She's lying back on her unmade single bed, her legs across the two boys' laps. Her normally wide, excited brown eyes are closed under her frowning eyebrows. Although she has continued to dye her hair blue since she was about ten, the hair underneath has changed to become a very dark brown, working in favour of her undyed eyebrows, which now fully fit the picture of her face. Puberty has shaped and moulded her body into something she finds depressingly average – not very curvy at all, and unattractive in her eyes – but if you were to ask other people, they would reply with mostly envy or mild lust over her slim figure and the surprising strength which accompanies it. "And don't you dare suggest Life either."

"I wouldn't dare," Wybie smiles at her, his big white teeth flashing out from the new crooked smile he's adopted, mute hazel eyes warm. Like Coraline, the adolescent years are being mostly kind to him, and his arms and torso swell with natural muscle, although he does have terrible acne on his back, and still hasn't found a way to correct his posture. Of all the teenagers, you wouldn't expect him to be the most troubled out of them all… but yet, there are so many things about Wybie one would never initially suspect. "I still don't see why you don't wanna play Monopoly though. N-Norman, do you?" Wybie turns his head to the spiky haired, frowning boy on the other side of him. Norman jumps a little, then goes red and laughs, along with the others, at himself.

"Well... you always cheat at Monopoly," he tells Coraline, pulling slightly at the sleeve of his dark grey jacket. Out of all of them he is surely the most attractive, with eyes that people describe as either blue or grey but never both, (which in fact they are), a face that is still boyish and handsome at the same time, and a body he has started working out every second afternoon. He always appears clean-shaven and presentable, and never with any pimples, though his life troubles and insomnia do show in the shocking dark rings under his eyes. "You always put hotels on when we're not looking, and then act all shocked when we point it out."

"I do not-" Coraline starts, smiling and light but with an edge of the competitive aggression she's never failed to have, before Wybie cuts her off.

"'What do you mean I didn't have a hotel there before? You watched me put it there when I paid for it, jerkwad!'" Wybie imitates badly but accurately. Norman sniggers loudly. "'Yeah, I've barely got any money,'" Wybie continues, expecting a punch on the shoulder any second now, "'Because I obviously spent it all on the hotel!'"

"Guys. I know what we should do." Coraline says suddenly, sitting up. Her eyes are open and gleaming with that mischievous, exhilarated glint she takes on whenever she has a really bad idea. Both Wybie and Norman know that whatever follows this expression, trouble will follow too, which shows in their slight winces and the way they unconsciously hold their breaths a little.

"Yeah?" Wybie asks tentatively, rubbing at one eye and wincing. He's biting on his upper lip slightly in a way that Coraline finds extremely attractive.

Coraline waits a little, knowing that the mild tension of the bored kids is rising until they actually care about her answer. She licks her slightly chapped lips with her tongue, claps her hands together, and announces: "We were talking about hotels. You want a real hotel? Two words: Hotel Nefas."

There is a slight silence in the room, and then, simultaneously, from both Wybie and Norman: "No."

"Coraline, I'm sorry, but there is absolutely no chance of us going there," Norman continues, his thick eyebrows narrowed in concern. "It's dangerous, and dirty, and spooky, and there will probably be homeless people or vandals in there, and plus it's like a half-hour drive from here. It's illogical," he adds, a tinge of desperation adding to his tone as he sees the unchanged expression on Coraline's face.

Coraline just looks at him, with one eyebrow raised and her eyes still excited. She looks from him to Wybie, then back to him, then back to Wybie, where her gaze stays.

"W-Well we could just, y-y-you know, d-drive past it, o-or something," Wybie finally suggests, eyes down. His stutter increases when he's put under pressure.

"Norman?" Coraline asks, quietly but triumphantly.

Another long pause. Then:

"Okay, fine."

And that was it.

AN:

If you are reading this, then that is a result of two options:

One, that you got bored and scrolled down to see if there was anything interesting down here, a dragon perhaps, or..

Two, that you actually read all of this for whatever reason and possibly liked it.

I don't really care which reason you did it for, thanks for reading, it'll start getting interesting/less boring next chapter. I hope.