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" .021 was written in part by Author 020. Due to this, errors in writing did occur. We apologize for any time inconvenience this has caused."
…
Openning .021
Ethan sat on the floor of Ryan's room, looking around at the furniture while the other boy grabbed another blanket. The bunk bed was slotted into the wall, the ladder draped in hanging decorations like beads and ribbon. The top bunk had colorful red, orange and yellow sheets with the red ribbon hung along the side board. The bottom bunk had plain gray sheets and a single red pillow monogrammed black. Ethan couldn't read the monogram from where he sat.
Ryan began throwing the couch cushions to the side before pulling out the cot. "Did that come with the room?" Ethan joked, crossing his ankles in front of him. The other boy chuckled, throwing the white blanket in his hands over the new bed.
"I brought all the furniture," Ryan shrugged, leaning down to toss pillows towards the headboard. "West doesn't have much money." Ethan got a weird feeling in the back of his head, as if he'd heard otherwise but didn't know where from. But looking at one of the desk, it was pretty obviously true seeing that there was hardly anything on it other than a cheap laptop and stacks of paper.
The room was relatively well-kept, but nothing Ethan was overly surprised about. He noticed the large tapestry hung on the wall near the bed. It looked hand-made, and old, with torn seams along the edges. A black rabbit stood in the center, surrounded by various patterns. Was shown from the side, with only one eye visible that had a thin white ring around it.
"That yours too?" Ethan pointed to the tapestry, Ryan glancing towards it. "It's pretty… unique?"
Ryan rolled his eyes, smiling. "No, that's West. One ofthe few things he actually brought," the boy sat in front of Ethan, a small container in his hands that Ethan had managed to miss. As he began slowly prying off the top, he continued to speak. "He says it dates back to the 1910s. Made by one of his ancestors. His family's from America, apparently they were super famous in the 1920s for swing dancing. He showed me all these old newspapers he got to keep after his parents kicked him out to here.
"His family was well-renowned until his great-grandfather or something disappeared. Most people say he left after his wife had an affair since he didn't want children. They aren't related, but they were never legally divorced since she couldn't bring herself to do it unless he came back, which he didn't. They also lost whatever fame they had when a race scandal appeared in the 1950s where someone in their family became overly aggressive towards peaceful protestors and was villainized after the movement was over."
Ethan blinked, processing. Ryan placed the finally open box on the floor between them. It was full of nail polish bottles.
"I saw you wore nail polish," Ryan pointed to Ethan's hand, where Ethan noticed they both were wearing it. "I have ugly-ass nails, so I prefer the look of hot pink," Ryan smiled.
Ethan hummed, gently digging through the box. "That's quite the story," he started, chuckling under his breath. "Pretty cool though. My history's pretty meh. We basically are this super long line of teachers, apparently back all the way to possibly ancient Greece. It's believed we're the outfall of a very little-known philosopher, quite possibly from either exile or just no one giving a shit."
Ryan laughed, pulling a cotton ball from a bag and pouring some nail polish remover on top. "Yeah, mine's pretty lame too. The only relatively famous guy I can think of is this guy who fought in some ancient war. There was a journal, I guess." He passed Ethan the bottle of acetone with the back of his hand, pushing across the floor.
The two talked about other random topics before landing on their siblings, somehow. The conversation would halt sometimes when one or both of them got too focused on painting their nails than speaking.
"So," Ethan ended a silence that had been dragging on. "What are you and West, exactly?"
Ryan looked at him, confused. "Well we met just before the school year started in a cooking class. He didn't know anyone here so we-"
"Like, are you two dating?" Ethan cut him off, getting a choke from the other. The look the other gave him made Ethan quietly apologize.
Shaking his head, Ryan made a sound in the back of his throat. "It's- ah- not like that. He's like, just my friend," he rubbed the back of his neck. "He's just- uh, West's just touchy. He has trouble grounding himself, so it's easier for him to listen if you just touch him a bit. I think it can help his ADHD since he can fidget with your hand or whatever."
"Oh," Ethan whispered, chuckling nervously. "Sorry, it wasn't supposed to sound rude."
"You're fine," Ryan smiled, shaking his left hand to help dry the polish. He seemed to think something over before continuing, "What about you? Got a girlfriend?"
Ethan frowned, shaking his head. He tapped the fingers of his dry hand against the coarse carpet. His eyes jumped around the room before landing on a set of photos he could barely see hung up on the wall. "I… I was asking a boy out tonight. It didn't work out. S-so, uhm, so no."
"Ah, sorry bro," Ryan scrunched his eyebrows, tensing his face. He glanced around, looking for something to change the topic. "I like your earrings," he finally spoke, moving to paint his other hand.
Ethan noticed him struggling a bit, reaching out his hand. "Need help?" he offered, pulling Ryan's hand towards him and continuing where he'd left off. "I've had my earrings for about 3 years. Don't really take them out much."
"There a reason you have three on one and two on the other?" Ryan ped on his phone with his free hand, typing out something.
"Nah, I just like the aesthetic. Plus cartilage piercings are a bitch on my ears, almost got infected the first time," Ethan continued painting, poking out his tongue in concentration. That got a small laugh from the other boy.
Ryan placed his phone down, quiet hip-hop playing out of the speaker. "Sorry, had to text my parents. They're in Africa visiting some family, so I can't talk to them often."
"You're fine," Ethan smiled, suddenly realizing he'd been aimlessly rubbing circles around the back of Ryan's hand. He stopped, moving to lightly blow on his hand to dry the polish. Ryan snickered. "So are you from Africa?"
"My parents are, but they immigrated to Africa with my Grammy. I was born in New Jersey, but we ended up moving to Alabama when I was about 3. Lived there all my life," he explained. "My parents really wanted me to study abroad, but the only language I was fluent in aside from English was Japanese since I'd taken classes all throughout middle school."
Ethan nodded, "I probably should have guessed you were American. You have a bit of an accent."
Rolling his eyes, Ryan pointed a finger at the other. "Have you heard yourself? You sound insanely French," Ethan jokingly scoffed, dropping the other boy's hand.
"I'll have you know I'm proud of my heritage, for I eat twenty baguettes dipped in red wine every morning while wearing my beret and making scale-model replicas of the Eiffel Tower out of toothpicks," Ethan placed a hand over his heart, gesturing to himself. "Oui oui mon ami, je m'appelle Ethan, je suis français."
"It upsets me that I didn't know what half of that meant," Ryan moved to stand, being careful to avoid messing up his nails. He moved to his desk and gently picked up his keys, dangling them from his ring finger. "Speaking of baguette, do you want to come steal West's food?"
Ethan tilted his head before nodding, Ryan helping him stand up. He tried teaching Ryan basic French sayings as they moved out into the halls, but he kept confusing "je m'appelle" and "je suis", and ended up repeating the phrase "My name is American" over and over again as Ethan tried to hold back a laugh.
They reached the hallway leading to the kitchen when Ryan made a sound in confusion. "Huh, look, the light's already on," the boy pointed to the doorway leading in, taking note of the yellow light pouring into the hall. "I guess someone beat us to it."
"I bet it's Ian. Apparently he has a giant stock of these frozen American meals in the freezer," Ethan smiled into his jacket.
"You mean Child Cooking? Those awful boxed dinners?" Ryan raised his eyebrows. Ethan nodded back. "I heard the corn was pretty solid, but the pudding tastes like shit. How'd he get those anyways?"
Ethan didn't have time to respond. As they approached the doorway, the lights suddenly turned off and a student walked out of the doorway. He almost crashed right into the other two, catching himself on the doorway. "Woah! Uh, sorry, you guys going in?"
Ethan knew that voice anywhere.
The light came back on, revealing the boy in front of them. He was in pajama bottoms and a loose gray top. His hat covered most of his slightly visible bed head. "Wait, Ethan?" he whispered, confused. His face broke into a grin. "Hey dude! Whatchu getting into this late?"
"I'm ah, er," Ethan spluttered, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "I just-"
"He came to my room to see West, but he wasn't there, so we were gonna go look in the kitchen. Seems he's not here, however," Ryan cut in, glancing down at Ethan. Luke looked at him before reaching out his hand. "Name's Ryan."
He grabbed Luke's hand, who shook it gently before crossing his arms. "Luke Sizemore. I'm one of Ethan's clubmates," he smiled, rocking back on his heels casually. Ethan still was folded into his jacket. Luke looked down at him, worried. "You okay, little dude?"
"Y-yeah!" Ethan jumped, looking up. "Yeah, just, uh…." he glanced around. "Just, just uhh…. A bit h-hungry! Yeah, that's it," his jacket hood was bunched around his shoulders. "B-but I guess you were just in there so you're probably leaving… right?"
Luke chuckled, shaking his head. "That'd be rude! Plus, I never got to eat anyways. Jimmy just needed me to run something to the fridge since he was working on a project."
"Wait, he hasn't finished?" Ryan gaped. "Dude, he's gonna get murdered by our teacher, that thing's due tomorrow."
"Oh! You're in Jimmy's class? So you're a first year?" Luke smiled, moving back to let Ryan and Ethan step through the doorway.
Ryan started moving. "Yeah! He sits in the row in front of me. We worked on a project together last semester with the two other kids near us," the two stepped into the kitchen, leaving Ethan standing in the hallway.
He froze a moment before slowly inching away from the door. Maybe if I just run I can go back to my room and-
"Ethan! You coming?" Luke stuck his head out the doorway, giving Ethan a big, toothy smile. Ethan's heart fluttered before sinking to his stomach.
He nodded, slowly stepping forward into the doorway, Luke guiding him inside with a hand on his back.
No going back now.
"Ugh, sometimes these kids are so boring," 21 complained, typing away on a semi-transparent blue laptop. They were perched on top of a fallen tree, West flipping through a thick booklet a few feet away on the forest floor.
West looked up. "Who you watching?"
"Ethan, Ryan and Luke. Speaking of, they won't be back at your room, so don't worry about telling them about me…" they paused, mouth open as though they would continue, but they closed their mouth with a smirk. "No, it'll be far more entertaining."
"So, explain to me how this whole scenario is gonna be documented," West resumed reading, mumbling the lines to himself as he skimmed the many lines. "Do you just rewrite it later or…"
"My editors will do it. Things like this would be super easy for me to fake since I don't need perspective cameras," 21 tapped their foot on the ground, stirring up the small leaves as they blew towards West. One got caught in his hair, but he didn't move to take it out. "Probably 19, 20's a bit lazy."
West hummed, licking his thumb to turn the next page, "I thought 19 was some RED loyalist, why'd they stick around after Akara… well, you know?"
21 shrugged, closing the laptop and tossing it aside. It disappeared as it hit the floor. "Yeah, they are. But turns out this dimension has some mad Editor credit, so if they do a really good job as my editor, they'll get to move on as Author_157 since they were recently terminated."
"Wait, 157 got terminated? Why?" he closed the packet, placing it in 21's lap. They began flipping through the pages like a flip-book before stopping on a random page. "Oh, wait. Was it 72?"
21 nodded.
"Wow, what a snitch," West scoffed, leaning against the log. "Though I shouldn't be surprised. They did snitch on me for stealing water that one time. Belli really lashed me on that one," he chuckled half-heartedly. "What happened to Belli by the way?"
"One of Emily's goons got her. Happened to a bunch of the girls. Really sucks too. 37's documents got destroyed about it too. Too graphic," 21 sighed, passing the booklet back to West. "Here, this one'll help you break that firewall. Use it at 4:27 AM. That's when Admin resets the servers every day to check for new documents."
West took the papers back with a smile before pausing. "Aren't you gonna be terminated for this?"
"Timeline's corrupted. You already know that. I'm actually doing my job now more than ever, seeing that my specialty is corruption. This is just helping my cause," they smirked, leaning their body onto their knees. "Speaking of, you need to head back. Corruption's waiting for ya," they winked.
West rolled his eyes, standing up. "I have no clue what you're hinting at. But I really couldn't seeing that this timeline's so fucked up."
"True that, brother," 21 stood up, stretching out their back. "It's not gonna get any more sane in the next few weeks."
West stood up and started to move towards the edge of the clearing. He noticed a lack of footsteps behind him and turned around. "You coming?"
21 laughed. "Haha, funny joke. No, I'm not. This took enough out of me," they moved forward, standing less than a foot away from West. They didn't breath. They didn't blink. They didn't even seem to be alive.
Probably because they weren't.
"But a word of advice," 21 frowned, looking West in the eyes. "Don't go back anymore. I'll handle it," they whispered. "You're off the hook. Please, please don't go back anymore."
West blinked, slowly moving his hand to grab 21's wrist. "W-what? I'm confused. What do you mean you'll 'handle it'?"
They didn't respond.
"21?" he whispered, dropping his arm and stepping back. "What are you going to do?"
They didn't respond.
"Goddamn it, answer me!"
"...Don't... Don't worry. You'll be okay," they whispered, quickly walking backwards. "Just…" 21 pulled up their hood, stepping over the log and into the opposite tree line. "Don't panic."
West watched them disappear into the black, quickly running forward to question them more. But as soon as he reached it, a flash of neon blue glazed his vision and they disappeared.
He stood frozen in the clearing for a minute or so, searching around the sides before giving up his search. The moon suddenly appeared overhead, the clouds drifting away with the wind. Using the light he navigated through the woods, quickly vaulting over the fence. The papers were stuffed into the waistline of his shorts, covered up by his shirt.
Mr. Patrick stood with a flashlight behind Poppy Hall, light turned towards the ground. He moved the light towards West, who waved and pointed towards Bluebell. The teacher nodded, pointing to his wrist as if to say "It's a bit late."
West just shrugged and continued walking, waving to the teacher once again. The two knew each other after West helped out with the mural Owen painted. He was in charge of removing whatever she wasn't supposed to have put up, since she had originally gotten permission for a much smaller segment of wall.
The boy was notorious for spending a lot of his free time with the staff. He didn't have much to do otherwise, since he did all his work in one of his classes, so he normally just helped out teachers that needed it.
As he continued his walk along the path, he noticed another kid sneaking unstealthily behind a row of bushes along Poppy Hall in the direction of the door, he had a small drawstring bag over his shoulder from what Ethan could tell.
He suddenly noticed a very faint yellowish light turn on in a third-story room. He watched the other kid slip into the building, the door giving off a near-silent snap into place. West turned to follow behind him, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small iron key with a white keychain in the shape of a rabbit. As he twirled it on his finger, he heard a voice suddenly start speaking from all the way across the lawn.
West ducked to the side of the building, turning around to look for the source of the voice. He saw another kid making their way out of Bluebell, a bag in his hands. West could faintly make out his face from the dull light of his phone. The kid walked towards the girl's dorm, passing the door and walking around the side.
Suddenly distracted, West followed.
He shoved the key back in his pocket as he silently sprinted to the side of the building. West peeked his head around the corner to see the boy lean against the middle of the brick wall. All of the boxes once there had been suddenly moved against the back fence, leaving a large open space between the boy and the opposite wall.
The boy was still tapping on his phone, seemingly upset based on the exasperated sighs he would release before continuing to type. Asthe boy turned off his phone, West heard a metallic thump from behind him, most likely from the alley. He ducked close to the bush, curling into a tight, invisible ball as a figure walked past. Wets couldn't make out any features behind the bandana tied around most of their face and the void black hoodie pulled over their frame. They were moving fast enough that their hair blew behind them like a charcoal wave.
The small figure went quickly towards the boy, who moved forward with arms crossed to greet her. "Took you long enough."
"It's not my fault my roommate wakes up at the drop of a hat," the girl scoffed, plopping heavily onto the floor. The boy followed, leaning back on his arms. "Plus, you showed up early. You can't blame me for what you did."
"Whatever," the boy sighed. "What was so important that you stole my number to tell me about at-" he pulled out his phone. "-11:38 on a school night."
The girl tugged on the mask around her face, pulling it to her neck. "It's not good," her voice dropped to the point West could hardly hear it. The girl leaned forward to whisper something.
"What?!" the boy exclaimed, making sure his voice was still quiet enough not to get caught. "No, wait- why? Why are… I don't-"
"I don't get it either. My dad said he wouldn't be coming to visit me. Ever."
The boy nodded, tugging at his hair. "But how do you know my mom's coming with him?"
"He told me," the girl whined, running her hands down her face. "They're still adamant about this whole thing. I hate it."
"We both have partners," the boy muttered sadly. "Did you tell your boyfriend yet?"
The girl shook her head. "He's never met him. Plus, I'd rather not get him involved with him if I don't have to." She visibly shuddered. "He'll get money out of anyone."
"Your dad's such an asshole."
"And your mom's sucha bitch."
The two chuckled in melancholy before both sitting in silence for a moment. The boy then piped up, "What do we do?"
"I…" the girl trailed off. "I don't know." She looked towards the sky before looking back at the boy. "You promise you aren't mad at me? We don't even talk in front of people anymore."
"First off, when did we ever talk in public? And second, no. I'm not mad. That was your dad's choice. Not yours," he placed a hand on her shoulder. "You aren't like that. I know that now."
The girl nodded, crossing her arms. "Thanks, J."
"J?"
"I don't know, I don't like calling you by your actual name," she sighed.
The boy chuckled. "I mean, sure, but why J?" he stood up, pulling her up by her arm. "Why not like, Jer?"
"That's what your girlfriend calls you. It'd be weird if I did that," she made a gagging sound as the two began walking towards the dorms. West ducked back, continuing to listen. "But still, Jared sound's weird."
The boy jokingly scoffed. "And Owen doesn't?"
"Fuck you."
"Didn't you already?"
There was a loud thump sound and a whine from Jared, who walked around the corner cradling the side of his head. "Was that necessary?"
"Yes."
"Fine, sorry, that was a bit insensitive," Jared raised his hands in defense. "In return, would you like me to walk you back to your dorm."
Owen smirked, crossing her arms. "I don't know, princess. Shouldn't the guy walk the girl to the door, not the other way round?"
"A simple no would have sufficed," Jared rolled his eyes.
"I don't know where you got a no from. I'll always take someone who can work as my bait," Owen jabbed him with her elbow, but he dodged away towards Poppy Hall. "Oh, you have that tonight?"
Jared nodded, walking backwards, "I told the guys I'd be a bit late, but I'm already past the time I told them." He turned around before turning his head back. "Uhm, I know you sit with James at lunch but, you know, you can always pull up a chair."
Owen made a hum in acknowledgement. "Thanks, Jared." She waved at his as she walked up the steps. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Night. Don't stay up too late," Jared turned around and quickly paced towards the door of Poppy Hall, pushing open the door and disappearing inside. Owen did the same into the dorm.
West sat in silence for a moment. He felt the weight of the papers under his arms shift in his jacket as he swayed slightly, his body not wanting to move. When he finally stood up, he noticed faint movement coming from the windows of the illuminated room that he hadn't seen before.
He didn't quite know what to do.
So he started walking.
Shane sat awake in his bed, folded up in a blanket. Jirard was snoring faintly from the opposite bed, an extra large Itty Bitty Kitty plush held in his hands. Shane had a light blue and gray one propped up next to him, given by Jirard to help him avoid his uhh… sleeping issue. Jirard had a second one on the shelf, and had given Shane his after part of the seam had torn and been stitched back together.
Everything was bothering him. The sound of the fan, the light from the window, Jirard's snoring, even the faint sound of the neighbors working on something kept making him open his eyes.
Eventually he just pushed out of bed and grabbed his jacket off his chair. His keys jostled in the pocket, letting him know it was safe to push out into the hall. He walked along the shadowed corridor, walking silently down the stairs to the first floor. The light to the kitchen was on, lighting his path to the front door until he pushed it open and slipped out.
He was immediately met by a figure passing in front of his path.
The person quickly sprinted around the corner before the footsteps went quiet. Shane quickly followed, watching the figure silently run behind the bleachers and onto the field. He followed as quietly as he could, curious as to who would run away and to who would be out that late at night.
He poked his head from the side of the bleachers to see the frame of the person huddled on top of the bleachers, a thin, white raincoat over his shoulders. When he noticed Shane, he started shuffling along the bench away from him until he reached the opposite railing. It was took dark for Shane to tell exactly who it was, but he was pretty sure it was a dude from the quiet muttering he could hear.
Shane slowly walked forward, sitting on the top bleacher on the end farthest from the other kid. He slowly moved across, wanting to see when the other kid would react.
It took the boy until Shane reached the same bench to say something. "What are you doing?" he whispered, his voice inconspicuous with it's quiet tone.
"I don't know," Shane responded, shrugging. "You looked suspicious. Wanted to see why you bolted off."
"Do you think I was expecting someone to open that door?" the kid snarked, keeping their head consistently turned in the opposite direction.
Shane frowned, making a click in the back of his throat. "Do I know you?"
The boy chuckled sarcastically. "I don't know, do you?" he replied, crossing his arms.
"I might know if you turn your fucking head around, I'll tell you that," Shane snarled, tapping his foot on the ground. The kid's face seemed to focus on the tapping for a moment before turning to Shane. Shane snarled, "Oh. You."
"Yeah," West rolled his eyes, pulling his legs to his chest. "Wish you hadn't followed me yet, Flower Boy?"
Crossing his arms, Shane stood up. "What's your problem?"
"What's my problem?" West hissed, glaring at him from his seat. "It's you, you blind fucker."
"I get that, but why?" Shane frowned, leaning down in West's face. "I talked to your little girlfriend, she told me about your drug shit. I don't wanna get involved with that-"
"Oh, wait," West cut in. "You mean Nialle? You talked to her?"
Shane nodded.
"So that's why she ragged me out earlier," West muttered, sighing. "So I got you all upset, huh?" West glanced up, a dead look in his eyes. "Didn't realize it was you. Probably should've."
Shane looked at him, puzzled. "What? What'd she tell you?"
"Said I gave a kid a panic attack cause he thought I knew a dead kid," West muttered, running a hand down the side of his face. Shane's breath stopped, making West glance over. "So she wasn't lying, huh?" Shane shook his head slowly, sitting back down. "Wow, I really can't keep a lie, eh?" West chuckled half-heartedly.
Shane still wasn't breathing right. "S-so you… you know him?" West looked up, placing his feet back on the ground. "T-twenty-Seven? Y-you worked with h-him r-righ… right?"
West sighed, looking out at the treeline, holding out a hand. Shane looked where West was, but didn't see anything there. Just the darkness of the trees. "I…" West whispered, clenching his fingers together. Shane could've sworn he saw a flash of neon blue from the trees, but when he looked over, nothing was there. "Yeah. I did. Not very well, but we worked under the same group."
"So you…" Shane looked at his hands. "What happened to him? Is he really dead?"
He noticed West choke, running a hand along his throat. His eyes were closed. "Yeah, shot by a guard. Snapped his ankle jumping from a third-story window landing on uneven ground." West began rubbing a hand along his ankle, as if he were imagining the pain. "Good kid, worked real hard… though he didn't want to be there," he chuckled solemnly at the last part.
"I…" Shane breathed, knotting his fingers together. "I figured. That's what Emily told me,
Guess she was right." He took a deep breath and slumped down with a sigh. "He saved my life."
"I bet he did," West nodded. "He saved a lot of people. Didn't wanna hurt anybody. Could barely hold a gun straight."
Shane nodded as well, letting a silence fall between them. The ambient sound of the bugs and wind seemed infinitely louder at that moment. "I.." Shane started, looking towards the rising moon. "I won't ask anymore."
"I'm sorry I snapped earlier," West suddenly jumped, leaning quickly towards Shane. His bangs fell over his eyes, but he didn't move them. "I… I have issues I'm dealing with on my own and I shouldn't have dragged you into that. You aren't supposed to know I work there either and I really fucked this up didn't I and I should really stop talking but I'm too nervous I won't say everything and I'm sorry I should-"
Shane placed a hand over his mouth in panic, looking over the back of the bleachers to see a bright flashlight hit him in the eyes. "Hey! Who's up there?" West suddenly grabbed his arm and bolted down the bleachers, Shane in tow. He dragged him quickly around the back of Poppy Hall and towards the library, ducking around back into a small indent in the wall. "Stop right there! Gah, where'd they go!"
"Hurry," West whispered, pointing to the ground next to the building. Shane sat down, a bit dazed, as West pulled a large wooden sheet across the wall to block the small alcove. West sat down next to Shane quickly, just in time for Mr. Patrick to show up in the small slot the two boys could see through between the wood and the wall.
The teacher waved his flashlight around before sighing and quickly pacing away, the flashlight periodically passing back over the ground behind him.
Shane and West sat quiet for a moment before West started chuckling. "Nice call, dude. I already told him I'd be back at my dorm like, 20 minutes ago."
"I'd rather not get caught by him of all people. He's a bit of a blabbermouth. Heard he has the longest detention times cause he won't shut up." West started laughing under his breath. Shane could feel it through their touching sides, tickling his arm. "He's new this year, right?"
"Yeah," West looked down at him, smiling. "Heard he's pretty repetitive, especially since he teaches General Theory. Ryan isn't very jazzed to be going into his class next year."
Shane chuckled silently, leaning against the wall to his side. He hadn't noticed until that moment, but the mood had suddenly changed. West seemed much calmer than before, and had gone from tense back-and-forth to casual conversation very quickly.
Strange kid.
"So, when do we get out of here?" Shane mumbled, leaning forward to look through the gap to the outside. West shifted, letting Shane have a bit more room to look. "I don't see him but…" The glow of a flashlight still periodically flashed against the fence, meaning Mr. Patrick was still on the lookout.
West seemed to think it over before tapping Shane to move out of the way. "Here, let me check something," he muttered, squeezing through the gap without disturbing the wooden panel. Shane watched him walk up to the back door and gently wiggle the handle.
Nothing.
He then started patting the ground near the door before suddenly jolting up, ssing the distance to the brick fence. He reached between the gap left from one of the bricks being removed and seemed to search with his hand before pulling it back out. In his hand was a small key which he quickly usd to unlock and silently open the heavy metal door.
"Over here," West mouthed, odding with his head for Shane to head over. He wasn't as successful at not making noise, causing the board to bump against the wall as he passed through. The flashlight suddenly showed up on the wall, the sound of footsteps growing closer as the two boys slipped into the back door of the school's main kitchen.
As West silently shut the door, Shane took a look around in the faint light he had. The kitchen was far larger than the dorm room kitchen, and had supplies the school kept stocked by itself. He could tell someone had made food in their earlier by the lingering smell of chocolate and vanilla still in the air.
"Damn," West breathed, shivering. "Smells good, but it's absolutely freezing in here."
Shane rubbed his hands together to warm them up, West mirroring him. He noticed a faint white light from the opposite end of the room, where the fridge was. "The fucking freezer's open."
"Wait, really?" West looked over, jogging quickly towards the source. "God, buncha dewdroppers." He closed the freezer, taking a breath into his hands and continuing to twist them together. "Let's ankle. It's dead cold in here."
Shane nodded, opening the door as the two stepped into the eerie cafeteria. The sounds of their shoes echoed in the cavernous space, soon stalling as they stood still, not able to go anywhere yet.
The cafeteria was connected to Poppy Hall, but only by a wall. The door was to the outside to avoid a traffic jam of everyone struggling to get in by one hall, meaning Shane and West were basically trapped.
"Uhh," Shane looked around. "What was the plan, exactly?"
West shrugged, sitting down in one of the chairs. "Didn't really have one. But it's better than sitting in a 2 meter area, wouldn't you say?" Shane nodded, sitting in the chair next to him. "But honestly, I'd rather not sleep in the cafeteria."
Shane nodded, leaning his head on his arm. "I've done worse, honestly," he muttered, thinking back to when he and Emmy were locked in a classroom a bit more than a week ago. "Huh."
"What?" West glanced over. "You think of a way out?"
"No, justs realized somethin'," Shane hummed, crossing his arms. "This just feels oddly familiar to something that happened a bit ago. The whole 'Trapped In The Same Room As The Kid You Hate' thing."
West made an almost silent choke in the back of his throat. "You hate me?" he whispered, a look of pain on his face. Shane glanced over, and when he noticed the other's expression, quickly shook his head.
"No, I wouldn't say that. Don't really know you very well yet. But you know what I mean," he explained, looking at the drawn blinds over the tall windows. "We don't get along the best."
"I…" West crossed his arms on the table. "I guess not."
An uncomfortable silence fell over the room, both boys watching the light filter through the gaps in the blinds and fall across everything in the room. Shane could feel West glance at him every few seconds before he stood up and started pacing. West eventually sat back down, sliding something over to Shane.
A cookie.
"I m-made this earlier, if you want it," West stuttered, pushing it a bit closer on the napkin. Shane looked down and picked it up. The other boy coughed, running a hand over the back of his neck. "I made a bit too many, so I just left them in the kitchen for whoever."
Shane took a small bite, chewed and swallowed with a small smile. "Huh," he huffed, shoving the rest of the cookie in his mouth. Talking through the food, he looked at West, "Not bad."
West laughed, standing up again. "Want another?" he smiled, holding out an arm for Shane. He grabbed the outstretched hand and pulled up, allowing West to drag him across the cafeteria and back into the kitchen, the door closing behind them with a near-silent click.
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