There was one major flaw in Matthew's great plan: at half seven in the morning, only thirty minutes before the first bell: waking up at someone else's house with no uniform, school bags or equipment, plus having to sort out Gilbert, (who had completely forgotten) was not exactly the ideal recipe for a successful morning.
"Ah! Francis! What are we going to d-do?! It'll take us too long to get all the way b-back home!" Matthew panicked, "we can't be late for school!"
"Mon petit Matthew! Calm down!"
"Dude! What's the problem!? We'll just turn up late!" Sounds of thundering footsteps and muffled shouts filled the house as the four teenagers scuffled round, flinging clothes on and grabbing bits of toast from the side board.
"Kesesese!!! We can just awesomely skive today right!" Yelled Gilbert from the upstairs sink, where he was attempting to brush his teeth by squeezing toothpaste onto his finger and scrubbing at his mouth. Matthew groaned, and tried to curl up into a ball. This was a nightmare!
"Gilbert! That does sound like a superb idea! Honhonhon!" Francis agreed, "We can all 'ang out in that bar down Regents street! There might even be some pretty ladies…"
"Like HELL I'm gonna hang out with you! You're just a good for nothing flirt!" CRASH!! Thud. By the sound of things, Matthew guessed Alfred had just fallen over the leather stool. Again.
"Kesesese!! That looked awesome!!! Do it again Alfred!!"
Ahhhh! Please just let this all be a horrible nightmare! Matthew flung his coat on and ran out the door.
The streets were already busy with school kids heading in the opposite direction as Matthew sprinted back to his house. He fiddled with the lock, slammed the front door open and raced up the stairs, picking up his rucksack on the way. Scrambling into his uniform, he quickly checked his phone for messages before running back down again. He figured he'd bump into Alfred on the way back, so he picked up his brothers bag as well before hastily locking the door behind him and stepping back out onto the street. Phew…
The three of them arrived at the school gates thirty seconds before they were locked, gasping for breath and leaning heavily on each others shoulders. Neither Alfred or Gilbert were in uniform, not having the time or suitable clothing. Somehow, Francis had gotten lost on the way, although Matthew had a sneaking suspicion that he may have found himself in the bar on Regents street… Never mind. It wasn't his problem.
Since Gilbert was the exchange student, Matthew figured they should probably head to the office to get him checked in,
"B-because," he'd said, "I don't really know what your timetable would be anyway…"
"Ja, sounds awesome to me!" Agreed Gilbert. Alfred decided to try and make it to first lesson, leaving Gilbert and Matthew to cut across the corner of the field on the way to the office. Matthew took a deep breath and cleared his head, now he could finally relax.
It just felt so normal. So right. As if they were back when they were ten again: best friends and actually enjoying life. Walking next to Gilbert like this was a dream. Gilbert cleared his throat,
"So… this is the school you go to now birdie?"
"Y-yes!"
"It looks kinda grim." Scowled Gilbert. Matthew sighed and scuffed his feet against grass as he walked. Yes, it was grim, but it was the only school in the area. With his grades, he could have gotten into the higher school in the next village, but despite his somewhat jealously towards his twin, he hadn't wanted to be on his own.
"Mmmm…"hummed Matthew. He decided not to go into details. Besides, none of that was bothering him right now. If only they could stay like this… just the two of them…
Gilbert's timetable was quickly sorted out. He had most lessons with Alfred, but only one (art) with Matthew. Matthew guessed that the school had decided to choose random subjects for Gilbert to take these two weeks, based on which classes were lacking students.
"D-do you like art?" Stuttered Matthew as they walked down the corridor, shoes making echoing noises in the empty space.
"Art is awesome." Said Gilbert, "But it's awesomeness is frightened of me! That is why the paints don't work!!"
"Um, you mean you like it but you're bad at it?"
"What!?" Gilbert spun round, scandalised. "Nein! That's not it at all! I'm cursed…" He whispered the last bit, and his breath tickled Matthew's ear, making him giggle.
"What?" He breathed.
"When I was younger, I was painting this beautiful masterpiece…" Gilbert sighed, "It was so awesome that my father and my little bruder could not look upon it. They avoided it, and eventually my father had to put it in the garage. Because it was so awesome." Matthew couldn't believe that was the real reason, but he went along with it anyway… "And then! One day, I was in the garage, looking for the birdseed, and I knocked a tin of paint over!! It fell unawesomely all over my beautiful artwork and the art gods have cursed me ever since!" Gilbert looked so sad, and mournful, that Matthew tried really hard not to laugh. He really tried.
"Mpmh.. ha…" he stifled his mouth with his hand, but it didn't work. He burst into laughter. Fortunately, Gilbert started to laugh too, and they climbed to the next floor, trying to choke back their snickers.
This is what school is meant to be like, Matthew thought. Not a mess of fear and loneliness, but a place where you can laugh, and have fun. Sadly, that had never been the case for him.
T
Matthew sat nervously on the side bench, occasionally being shuffled and pushed by the bigger, larger boys beside him.
God, he hated P.E. It was one of the things in life that just didn't make sense to him. Sometimes it would be okay, like when they did running laps around the track; Matthew could just about pull through and get an average time. Or when they were doing trampolining. That was fun. The other boys complained and said it was girly, but Matthew actually enjoyed it. No being hit in the head by balls and no getting kicked around. Alas, they had now completed that section for the year, and were moving onto team sports… Starting with basketball.
"Please kill me now…" he muttered. Unfortunately, no-one heard him.
The teacher blew the whistle and everyone got into their teams. They were pre-picked: Matthew was lucky to even get into one. Well, if you could call being forced to play lucky.
The whistle blew once more and the game began. To be honest, Matthew didn't much understand the rules. It was all a confusing tangle of dodge, run and OH MAPLE that big guy is running towards me what should I do! In the first ten minutes he managed to touch the ball exactly zero times. Success! He paused to take a breath, surveying his surroundings. Some people were running away from him, one guy was bouncing the ball, then he passed. Why was everyone taking this so seriously? All he wanted to do was curl into some corner and read.
He crouched down on the gym floor. He was so tired…
"Williams! Get back up and start playing!"
Wha-? Oops! He hurriedly stood up and- oh!
That hurt.
The floor spun up and his vision darkened as he crashed to the ground.
T
Gilbert sat in his maths class, trying to decide whether the day had been awesome or not. He'd made Matthew laugh again: that was awesome. But God damn it, this class was boring. The equations and sums swum before his eyes, forming little patterns and generally getting in the way. Who even needed this stuff as an adult? That's what he wanted to know…
That blue plus sign was talking to him, it was saying something about chickens. Chickens are awesome… Gilbert… Gilbert! Wake up!
"Wha-? I'm AWESOME!" The class stared blankly at him. Er… well this was awkward. "Kesesese. I mean, we're all awesome!" He tried for a winning smile, but his awesome charming skills didn't seem to be working today.
"Mr… Beilschmidt? Now that we're awake, do you mind shutting up." The teacher growled. "I understand that you are the exchange student and may not be used to ah, our… customs here, but could you at least try not to fall asleep in my lesson!"
"Yes sir!" He saluted. Mr whatever his name was frowned at him. Gilbert seemed to have a habit for getting on teachers nerves; he always managed to get into awkward situations. Back in Germany, he'd been alright. He was smart and got good grades, despite being a bit of a trouble maker. However, since then… He grimaced as his pencil drew circles on the blank paper. His anger towards his father and the constant touring around Europe had caused him to slip.
He sat there for the rest of the hour, and when the bell went, he jumped up and pushed his way out with the rest of the class. He suddenly wondered what the arrangements for walking home were. At lunch, him and Matthew had sat together on one of the picnic benches outside: was that where he should try and meet him now? He made his way there, battling against the rush of the crowd, but when he arrived, it was deserted.
Oh, well, maybe he was supposed to walk back to the house separately, he thought. Matthew had probably already left. An image of Matthew strolling home with Alfred, laughing at Gilbert's stupidity filled his mind. No! Now was not the time for unawesome insecurities! He scowled at the empty courtyard then turned his back on it, plugging headphones into his phone as he went. Some rock song was blaring through the earplugs and he tapped his fingers to the beat.
He knew the way back pretty well; the town was already familiar to him from before, so he took the long route along the canal. It was kind of grim, he realised, a lot more graffitied since he'd come this way last. However, the empty paths gave him time to think. The heavy crash of drums and bass guitar drowned out the noisy traffic ahead.
Matthew really had changed a lot in the time he'd been away. And yet, he hadn't changed at all. He was still the same quiet, nervous boy from before, yet, there was something else there too. Maybe it was a slight hint of passive aggressiveness, not quite as young and innocent as when they were ten. He looked different too; slightly longer hair, sharper features. Taller. He was… attractive, Gilbert supposed. It was just a shame that no one at his school seemed to notice him much…
It felt like no time before he was standing back on the front step, contemplating the freshly painted white door. He knocked twice.
But there was no answer. Maybe he was ahead of the others? Did they have some kind of after school club they unawesomely forgot to tell him about? He quickly knocked again, and waited.
One minute.
Five minutes.
Ten.
Thirty.
He was slumped against the wall now, perching on his smallish rucksack. Something was definitely up. If they had some sort of club they'd forgotten about, surely they would have messaged him by now? The numbers they'd swapped this morning were in his phone, just a touch away. But he didn't want to appear panicky or unawesome! His hands slipped into his pocket anyway, turning the music off and deftly flicking his smartphone on. He stared at the blank screen.
Then… there was a drop. And another. And another. Gilbert glared up at the darkening sky as fat raindrops started to splash down. That was it! He moved his finger towards the call button.
Beep! Beep!
Wait, a message had just come in. He opened it swiftly.
Message received: Alfred
Whr the hell r u?? Matthew in hospital! Why didnt u answer calls!?
