BAP Chapter 3
The next day, Tyson was desperate to talk to Hilary. He had gotten up extra early just for that reason. He grabbed some toast from the table (It was burnt) before he ran out the door.
"You forgot your backpack, little dude!" yelled Grandpa from the house. 'Crap!' thought Tyson as he sprinted back to get it. He jammed the toast into his mouth as he put on his backpack and sped up.
"Wait up, Hilary!" he yelled, trying to catch up to her, as he saw her turn a corner. They were a block away from school and could see it looming over the brick wall. She stopped and turned around. "Tyson?" She didn't bother to hide her amazement. Tyson? On time?
Tyson was panting as he caught up to her. He held up his hand to signal her to give him a sec. She could tell whatever it was he wanted, it was important. He finally got his breath and requested, "Please, could you come to practice this afternoon?"
She looked at him skeptically. "Why are you being all nice? I thought you didn't want me around."
"I never said that! Or if I did, I didn't mean it." He exclaimed.
"True enough."
"You going to come?"
She thought about it and the reason she had stopped going in the first place. She used Tyson as an excuse, but the real reason was because she was afraid. No, not of the bit beasts, not of the beyblades, but that she might actually grow too fond of them. She still remembered Justin, and it wasn't an experience she was eager to repeat. But, still. They were her friends, right? They had never let her down before. "Why not?" she decided.
"Thanks. You won't regret it. I swear." He put out his hand. "Look, I'm sorry about all the mean things I said to you. I'm sorry, okay? Pals?" She looked at his hand, not sure if she should take it. Pals...that word meant a lot. Could she trust him? She already had. She had already suspected she was crushing on him, but...what about her promise? Oh, well. Deep down, something in her heart told her to trust him.
"Pals," she agreed, closing her hand on his own. A shiver went down both their spines. Not a bad shiver, one of warning, but a good shiver, a comfortable, enjoyable one. It seemed she had already broken her promise.
"Let's go, or we'll be late," observed Tyson, as he finally let go of her hand, realizing that he still held it a few seconds later.
"Like it matters to you, Champ. You're probably used to it by now," she teased. Before Tyson could grasp what she had said, she got a head start jogging before he yelled, "Come back her, you mean little-". Neither noticed that she hadn't put any unkindness in her words, but had replaced them with friendship. And it was a friendship that, with luck, would last a long, long time.
The next day, Tyson was desperate to talk to Hilary. He had gotten up extra early just for that reason. He grabbed some toast from the table (It was burnt) before he ran out the door.
"You forgot your backpack, little dude!" yelled Grandpa from the house. 'Crap!' thought Tyson as he sprinted back to get it. He jammed the toast into his mouth as he put on his backpack and sped up.
"Wait up, Hilary!" he yelled, trying to catch up to her, as he saw her turn a corner. They were a block away from school and could see it looming over the brick wall. She stopped and turned around. "Tyson?" She didn't bother to hide her amazement. Tyson? On time?
Tyson was panting as he caught up to her. He held up his hand to signal her to give him a sec. She could tell whatever it was he wanted, it was important. He finally got his breath and requested, "Please, could you come to practice this afternoon?"
She looked at him skeptically. "Why are you being all nice? I thought you didn't want me around."
"I never said that! Or if I did, I didn't mean it." He exclaimed.
"True enough."
"You going to come?"
She thought about it and the reason she had stopped going in the first place. She used Tyson as an excuse, but the real reason was because she was afraid. No, not of the bit beasts, not of the beyblades, but that she might actually grow too fond of them. She still remembered Justin, and it wasn't an experience she was eager to repeat. But, still. They were her friends, right? They had never let her down before. "Why not?" she decided.
"Thanks. You won't regret it. I swear." He put out his hand. "Look, I'm sorry about all the mean things I said to you. I'm sorry, okay? Pals?" She looked at his hand, not sure if she should take it. Pals...that word meant a lot. Could she trust him? She already had. She had already suspected she was crushing on him, but...what about her promise? Oh, well. Deep down, something in her heart told her to trust him.
"Pals," she agreed, closing her hand on his own. A shiver went down both their spines. Not a bad shiver, one of warning, but a good shiver, a comfortable, enjoyable one. It seemed she had already broken her promise.
"Let's go, or we'll be late," observed Tyson, as he finally let go of her hand, realizing that he still held it a few seconds later.
"Like it matters to you, Champ. You're probably used to it by now," she teased. Before Tyson could grasp what she had said, she got a head start jogging before he yelled, "Come back her, you mean little-". Neither noticed that she hadn't put any unkindness in her words, but had replaced them with friendship. And it was a friendship that, with luck, would last a long, long time.