Wow....it's been forever since I updated.....I am seriously incredibly SO sorry....I've been busy, and my mom doesn't really like me writing fanfiction, cause I can't read it at my writing class, and I couldn't ever publish it or anything....SO that's one of the reasons......yeah...so I'm realllllllllllllllllllllllllly sorry, but I think i will try to finish the current Fanfics I'm working on....so! ENJOY!
Chapter 2
The was dark and damp from the earlier rain, as Scipio slowly walked outside. As he crossed the courtyard, he could hear the red-head pianist practicing Beethoven. Scipio stopped, and stood there, listening. He could see through the window, and the girl played with lots emotion. He stared at her back, and suddenly, she stopped playing and turned around the the wooden piano bench. She looked straight into Scipio's eyes, and he hurried out of the courtyard.
A bell rang.
"I'll get it!" cried Bo, as he hopped up from the couch and skidded across the floor.
"It's probably Scipio." said Hornet, as she set aside a game piece, from the board game they had been playing, as they waited for Ida to finish cooking, and for Scipio to arrive.
"He's late, as usual." said Prosper, looking at the clock.
"Oh, give it a rest, Prop." said Hornet. "What do you expect from Scipio?"
"Yes, Prosper, what do you expect from me?" Scipio walked into the room with Bo at his heels.
Prosper's face turned red.
"Oh, Scip..."
Scipio smiled. "S'ok."
Ida came into the room, holding a spoon.
"--Food's ready, oh, Scipio! Hello!"
"Hi,"
"Come on, sit down, I'll go get Victor."
They sat down at the long table.
"Listen," said Scipio, running a hand through his hair.
Prosper and Hornet looked at eachother.
"What?"
"I've been thinking--"
Ida and Victor walked into the room.
"Hello!" said Victor.
"Umm, hi..." said Scipio, cut off in mid-sentance. "I'll tell you later." he whispered, as Victor and Ida sat down.
They ate, and chatted about friendly things, like the weather, work, news, the like.
After they finished, Victor and Ida went outside, and sat in chairs, sipping drinks, watching the sunset.
"I want to talk to you," said Scipio to Hornet and Prosper.
Prosper got the message that he meant privately.
"'kay, we'll go to my room..." Scipio looked at Bo, who was finishing the last bit of cake.
"Bo," said Hornet. "You need to feed your cat, okay?"
"Okay." said Bo, through a mouthful of crumbs.
"Let's go." said Scipio.
They headed up the stairs, once they were in Prosper's room, Scipio shut the doors.
He turned around. He actually hadn't been in Prosper's room that much. After he had been "transformed", he tried acting what he looked like, which basically meant, talking with Victor and Ida, instead of his real friends, who he knew where a bit surprised at him wanting to talk to them and not some adult friend, or someone not so 'young' as them.
Scipio scanned the room. An unmade bed, random books and sports equipment, the normal items of a teenage boys life. Scipio felt a pang of emotion. This is what his room should look like, not the boring hues of buege and the tasteless décor.
Scipio looked into the eyes of Hornet and Prosper. They looked a bit surprised.
"Yes, well...." Scipio trailed off.
"Well?" said Hornet.
"I...I...I'mtiredofbeingandadultandIwantyoutohelpmefixthecarouselsoIcanbeanormalkidagain." said Scipio in a rush.
"Sorry? Could you repeat that?" said Prosper with a smile playing at his lips.
Scipio took a deep breath. "I, want you to help me fix the carousel so I can be a kid again..." Scipio bit his lip.
"Your joking, right?" said Hornet. She sat down in a chair.
"No, I'm not." said Scipio.
"But, Scip, that's all you wanted! I thought you liked being a grown-up!" said Prosper.
"Well, feelings change. I'm tired of being and adult, it's really annoying! I have to shave all the time, I have to clean and wash and shop, and it's all rubbish and I HATE it!" Scipio said.
"But...but..." said Hornet. She couldn't believe what Scipio was saying. "but...how? How can you be a kid again? Wasn't the carousel destroyed?"
"Yes, but we will fix it." Scipio's voice burned determination.