Chapter Andy Met the Doctor

I slid further down my seat as Lauren argued with the waiter, again. I watched as Ryan smothered his fries with more ketchup and licked my lips. The other customers were eyeing our table in disgust, while muttering under their breaths. I tried to give them an apologetic smile but it turned out more as a grimace. "Well shut up then," Lauren spat. The waitress walked away in a huff and Ryan let out a chuckle, ketchup dripping from the corner of his mouth.

"Lauren, why does this always have to happen every time we go somewhere?" Lauren kissed her teeth at me, as she fixed her ponytail.

"Ain't my fault the stupid lady messed up my order, though."

"Forget it." If I slid, any further down my chair my butt would be on the floor.

"Did you see Ariana Grande perform last night on Chatty Man?" asked Liese.

"Did you see it, though?" Lauren replied as she chewed her burger.

"She is well fit," Ryan said.

"How is he well fit? She has the body of a 10-year-old." I finally sat up properly in my seat when I spoke and stole some of Ryan's ketchup-soaked French fries.

"Ain't it, though?! Ya know I don't really like her all that much, though. I think that innocent act she puts on is just a front, right? You know Miley Cyrus? You know Miley Cyrus, though? I think that soon she's gonna be taking her clothes off and twerking like Miley Cyrus and come through swinging like a wrecking ball. You know what I mean, though?"

"That's exactly what I think!" Two years of friendship with these three and people still wonder what we have in common. When I first moved to the U.K., I rarely spoke to anyone except my mother and stepfather. The first week of school, everyone kept asking me what life was like back in America. I got tired of it by the second day and gave one-word answers. Lauren asked me what part of America I was from and when I said Florida, she went on a crazy rant about the beaches, climate and Disneyworld that made my head spin. After she finished I gawked at her before laughing for the first time in months.

"Hey, whatcha laughing for?"

I chucked. "I'm sorry; it's just that, no one has made me laugh like that in a long time. You're funny."

"Innit, though? I should be a comedian. I'd have to give up my singing career, though."

Soon she had me telling raunchy jokes, while I was one of the only people that could reel her in. With Liese and Ryan, we made a unique group that always had people talking. I got them to study and they brought me to house parties.

"We better get going though if we're gonna catch the movie." Lauren, Ryan and I silently agreed with Liese. We crammed that rest of our food into our mouths, paid, then ventured out onto the streets of London. Lauren and Liese were chattering beside me while Ryan bobbed his head in sync with the music blasting through his headphones. I weaved my small frame through the crowds, blocking them out. Gazing through a window shop, I came to a stop. Walking over to the store, I thought my mother would love the painting on display. She was really into space and travelling. The striking colors of the solar flares bouncing off the shields of the spaceship made for an impressive image. I heard Liese complaining behind me. I told them I'd meet them there and to buy my ticket for me if I'm late and I would pay them back later. They shrugged, walked off and I turned my attention back to the painting.

"Brilliant, isn't it?" A voice startled me out of my thoughts. I swung my head to the side. A lanky man dressed in a tweed jacket, suspenders and a bowtie was smiling at me.

"Oh, yeah, it is. I was thinking of buying it for my mother."

"Really?" he questioned. His sharp gaze had me nervously toying with the ring on my finger.

"Oh yeah, she has this weird interest in space. Gets a foggy look in her eyes just thinking about it."

He nodded, fixing his jacket. "Do you happen to have to the time?"

"The time? Oh well it's…" I trailed off, pulling my phone out my pocket."…5:43."

"5:43? I must have overshot her. I meant to be here at noon. Ah, well can't do anything about it now, now can I?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Anyways, must be off. Thank you for the time and you be sure to get that painting." He wandered off before I could respond, sinking into the crowd.

Inside the store, I made a down payment on the painting with my credit card and bought a sun keychain before continuing on to the theater.

The painting did not cost that much, only 182 pounds. I finished paying it off a few days later. I would pick it up right before Christmas, which was not for another two months.

My mother had better love it.

I was again walking the streets of London when I almost got plowed over. "Sorry miss, got to run. I'm in a hurry!" I saw a familiar tweed jacket racing down the sidewalk. He was weird and rude.

Something glinted out the corner of my eye and I saw a grey, black, white, and rose-gold looking pen with a green stone at the top. I bet that bowtie wearing lunatic dropped it when he ran into me, I thought.

He was already out of sight by the time I noticed, so I pocketed it and made my way home.

After dinner, I took the pen out my jacket and examined it. It did not seem to have a cap or a twistable part. Concluding it was a laser pen, I fiddled with it trying to find the button to turn the laser on. The grey clamps around the green stone lifted while the stone glowed. The pen made a sort of whizzing sound.

Not really much of a laser, I thought. Pointing it at a wall, no green dot showed up. I pointed it at closer things like my nightstand, a book, and my alarm clock.

It turned off. My freaking alarm clock turned off. Plugging it out then back in did not help. Throwing the pen back in my jacket, I grabbed my alarm clock to get my stepfather to fix it before I went to bed.

He never fixed it. Let me correct myself, he could not fix it. I had to use my phone as an alarm, which was much better since I got to wake up to a song rather than buzzing sounds like a game show.

I nearly fell off my seat as the subway, or tube as they call it over here, came to a rough stop. Readjusting my glasses, I looked around at the other passengers. There was not that many on. Most had a seat, the others stood next to the poles with disgruntled expressions. One was tapping his leg noisily beside a burly man who looked like he wanted to inflict bodily damage to him any second. I felt my eyes widen as I realized the foot tapper was the same person who almost ran me over. He was still wearing that same tweed jacket. Did he own any others? I swiveled around in my seat, hoping he did not notice me staring at him. After sending a tweet about this mess, I played Subway Surfers on my phone, wishing I could ride out of there like the character in the game. Someone cleared his or her throat in front of me. Looking up as the popo caught my character; I saw the tweed-jacket-bowtie-dude, again. His chin looked very prominent from my position.

He pointed to the seat I had my feet upon, "is that seat taken?"

Shaking my head, I removed my feet and he sat down next to me.

We sat in an awkward silence, taking several glances at one another. He opened his mouth a couple of times to say something, but shut it quickly.

Building up the nerve, I finally said, "Are you stalking me?"

He did that mouth thing again.

"What? What? No! Stalking you, not at all."

"Yes, stalking me. I keep seeing you everywhere. This is the third time and I gotta say it's getting kinda creepy."

A pause. "Coincidence."

"Coincidence? I don't believe in coincidences."

"Me neither!" He grinned brightly, mimicking a child's smile.

"Then why did you?- Never mind, forget it." I sat back in my chair.

"What's your name?" I squinted at him.

"My name? Its name Andy. Well Alexandria, but don't call me that. Andy Brando."

"I like it. Andy Brando. Alexandria. Classic name. Do you by any chance have AB blood?"

"AB blood? I'm not sure. Never needed blood… What's your name?"

"I'm the Doctor."

"The Doctor? Of What?"

"Well nothing really. And anything. Officially, I do have a doctorate from the Prydonian Academy. But I dabble in different fields, so I am a doctor of many things." Okay weirdo. Every time he talked, he made gestures with his hands. I mean I do that sometimes, but not as often and as crazily as he would.

He twirled one of my braids with his finger and said, "So Andy Brando, I don't tolerate many things. For example, I hate stupid people and people that don't have a lick of bravery in them. What about you?" He had no concept of personal space. I shifted in my seat, trying to create some space between us, but he leaned in closer.

"What about me?"

"Are you a broken record?"

I scrunched up my face. "A broken record?"

"There you go again. You might as well be a parrot." Did I mention how rude he was? I yanked my braid back and put it in a tight ponytail to prevent him from touching it again.

"Well can you blame me? With you talking and acting crazy like that, it's a wonder anyone can speak properly around you."

"I have that effect on people." Smacking his lips together he continued, "You seem like a smart girl, have you noticed anything strange being reported on the telly?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Strange as in some guy trying to eat another's heart but leaving with a lung instead?"

He balked slightly. Slightly. "No, no, no. Have they been reporting any mass disappearances? Come on Brando; use that clever brain of yours."

I thought back to the past two weeks. There was one afternoon, when busloads of people were reported missing. It was odd, even for London. A few other buses never came back from routes out in the country as well. But what did that have to do with anything?

"Yeah, I do remember hearing about some disappearances-"

"Brilliant! Now the tube has stopped on the way to a destination. What do you make of it?"

I was getting tired of all these questions. Why couldn't he just come out and say what he wanted to say? I hated it when people wasted my time.

"Listen, dude. There's nothing wrong with the train. They probably just stopped it because there's too many rats on the tracks or something. Like on that one episode of Seinfeld. This isn't a horror movie, so relax." I patted his hand in an effort to show some comfort.

He frowned and shook his head. "Maybe I was wrong about you being clever."

I reeled back, insulted. The nerve! Here I was trying to calm him down because clearly, he has a few screws loose and he calls me stupid.

"At least I have common sense, unlike you," I blurted out.

His frown deepened and disappointment shone in his eyes. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Okay, maybe that was a tad uncalled for. However, I had said worse. And he's a grown man for God's sake, he can take it.

Another awkward silence.

I continued playing Subway Surfers to kill time, while the Doctor kept moving in his seat.

The train jolted forward after a half-hour past. I sent the Doctor a smug smile. Crestfallen, he slumped back. But, I was not going to let him rain on my parade, and kept on smirking.

I wanted to get off the train fast. I could not stand another minute of it. I already decided to get off at the next stop and take a cab home. Therefore, when the train came to a stop, I got up and said to the Doctor, "who's the clever one now?" The doors opened and a wall of sound, sight and smell immediately hit me.

People cried, shook, and bled on the tiled floor before me. Officers were pointing their guns at a group of men with scarlet skin, bulky muscles, and canine teeth. Their eyes shone red and their bodies were etched over with black tribal markings. They growled at the officers who shuffled back in panic. Stacks of corpses were off to the side with only bones and clothing left. My stomach turned at the putrid smell. There were many ways to describe it. Like someone had pumped the shit out of hundreds of intestines and left it to rot in the sun. Like a skunk had crawled up someone's ass, died, then the person exploded and the skunk mist mixed with the lovely smell of day old shit. Like decaying meat, sour milk and bad eggs with a heaping pile of dog shit on top. Like you are in a room of fat guys who had binged on Taco Bell, threw up, then crapped atop the vomit. I swayed a bit at the foul scent and clamped my hands over my mouth before projectile vomiting, which then made me vomit again from the smell. My body shook and I tried observing the station to distract myself. I closed my eyes after noticing a green pus seep from a dying child's bite mark. A warm breath tickled my ear and the Doctor whispered, "me."