Disclaimer: I don't own Newsies, Empress of the World, or and other media references I may make.
Emperor of the World
June 17th, 8:00 am, The Cafeteria
Good morning pancakes! I find myself thinking during breakfast.
The smell fills the halls and I remember how little I ate last night. Probably because I couldn't even chew.
Racetrack meets my eye momentarily, but drops his gaze and returns to his conversation with Jack.
I walk over to Skittery. "When are you going to be running again?" I ask him.
He hesitates for a minute. "Listen, Dutchy," he says. I don't like how he says 'listen'. "I don't think we should go running again."
That's when I feel it. Right after that recently familiar feeling of my stomach lurching comes a bleeding one around my chest. Like my heart is crying.
"Oh, yeah, that's be—that'd be OK," my voice is cracking and my nose is burning. I try to smile and manage a weak one.
Skittery looks awkward. I feel like an idiot, I'm such a moron. Why would I do this?
I smile again. "No problem. I'm going to go get some pancakes, I'm starving."
Skittery nods and watches me walk away.
I keep thinking about this feeling in my heart. It's making me distressed and I don't know why.
Racetrack is beside me in the food line.
"Heart aching?" he asks, wisely.
I look at him, in awe. "What? I mean, how did you know?"
He shrugs. "I saw you talking to Skittery, and now you're withdrawn."
I glare at him. I wish he wasn't so knowing.
Racetrack does that half-smile again, almost turning it into a smirk. "Talk to him about it Dutchy. If you don't, I will."
I pour syrup over my pancakes. Racetrack takes a few packets of jam. When I turn to him again, he is gone. Instead, Jade has taken his place.
"Oh, hello," I say, gloomily.
She smiles leisurely. "Hi."
"Are you in History now?" she asks after a while.
I nod. "Yeah."
"Because of Skittery?" she asks softly.
I nod again, nose burning once more.
Again she smiles. "I like Skittery," she says simply.
I stare at her, open-mouthed.
Jade blinks slowly and takes her tray away. I watch her sit down next to Skittery and flip her silky hair over her shoulder smoothly.
I surging feeling leaps from my stomach to my throat. I've only felt it once before, when a boy in my class named Bumlets beat me at the science fair in grade six, which I had worked very hard to get first place on. Specs said I was just jealous of Bumlets because his project was very good.
June 17th, 8:30 am, World History Classroom
This class is very different from the other one. It has desks that are arranged in groups of four. The teacher's name is Mr Seitz. He has a friendly face and whitened hair. He wears all black, black suit pants and a black button down shirt that has white buttons. Even his shoes are black and shiny.
He sits me in a group with three other boys.
"Hi, my name's Dutchy," I tell them.
"Mush," says the one with curly brown hair.
"Kid Blink," says the one with an eye patch.
"Boots," says the one with glasses and beat-up sneakers.
They all smile at the same time.
While Mr Seitz teaches, Mush, Kid Blink and Boots pass notes and doodle in their notebooks. I try to take notes, but the allure of rebellion is much too strong.
Mush and Kid Blink have been best friends since the first day of kindergarten, Boots just met them here, but his room is, coincidentally, down the hall from theirs.
"We're in Hall F," says Boots in a whisper.
Mush and Kid Blink nod.
Class goes by quickly. Mr Seitz assigns us a chapter to read by tomorrow and dismisses us. I head for the cafeteria.
Sitting alone at our regular table is Jack, fiddling with his camera and occasionally checking textbooks with complicated formulas and diagrams on every page.
"Afternoon," I say, sitting down with my tray.
Jack grunts a hello.
I watch him for a while, beginning my meal with my apple. I bite into it, slightly disgusted by how mushy it is.
Jack nearly jumps out of his skin when his cell phone rings. He picks it up and I hear the one-sided conversation.
"No, sorry, she's not here. She's still in class…yeah, we're having a good time…yeah…she did…well, you can't expect her to—" Jack stops talking and laughs. "Yeah…OK, see you later Bums." He hangs up.
"Who was that?" I ask, nosily, discarding my apple.
Jack looks up as if he's forgotten I'm here. "Oh, that was Bumlets, my friend. He's dating Jade."
I hope very dearly that the relief doesn't show in my face. She's already dating someone.
I smile happily. "Cool. I like my new class," I say, randomly.
Jack is about to comment when Medda arrives, plunking herself down on a chair between us and making a commotion, as she usually does.
She is, once again, dressed interestingly. Her hair is tied very high up in a ponytail with many clips that resemble butterflies attached haphazardly. She has on a long purple shirt that reaches her mid-thigh and is fastened by the side so it doesn't fall off, with a glittery scrunchy. Under this she is wearing a black skirt that ends promptly at her knees. On her feel she's wearing purple converse shoes with white laces.
"Did you know my professor expects me to design an entire software layout in one week, during class only?" she says loudly.
Jack laughs. "Nice to see you too."
Medda glares at him. Jack grins wider and bats his lashes outrageously. Medda laughs.
Skittery arrives at our table next, carrying a tray with an egg salad sandwich, an apple, a pudding cup, and a tall glass of juice.
He avoids my gaze. When Jade comes he says hello and I feel that thing in my throat again, but am relieved of it by reminding myself that Jade has a boyfriend who misses her.
All I hope is that she misses him too.
June 17th, 6 pm, Jack's Room
Jack and Racetrack are smoking cigarettes unfailingly, dropping the butts into a water-filled coffee mug that reads 'Hawaii is More Fun With a Surf Board'.
"Have you been to Hawaii?" I asked Jack upon seeing it.
Jack nodded. "Yeah, when I was in grade ten, with my friend and his family."
Jack's roommate, David, it sitting at his desk morosely.
"I wish you wouldn't smoke in here," said David once.
Jack had shrugged. "Too bad I'm not a genie Dave!" he said. Then David stopped trying.
"What were your new classes like?" Specs asks Racetrack and I.
"Mine's OK," says Racetrack. "I don't know why I signed up for it anyways. I thought it would be interesting, and it is, but kind of dull too."
Racetrack is doing Sports Medicine.
"Yeah, mine's OK too," I report. "Our teacher doesn't really notice when we talk though, I doubt I'll learn anything."
Jack laughs. "I know I won't learn anything."
Specs sighs. Skittery smiles half-heartedly. I watch Skittery. Racetrack's eyes dart between Skittery and I. He shoots me a look. I shake my head discreetly.
Racetrack clears his throat. "Skittery, how do you like Jade?"
Skittery looks taken aback. So did Jack.
"She's OK, nice enough and all," answers Skittery awkwardly.
Jack looks uncomfortable that we are discussing his sister. Specs just looks confused.
"No, do you like her?" asks Racetrack.
"She likes you," I blurt.
Jack looks almost mad now. "Jade has a boy—"
"Jade likes me?" asks Skittery, shocked.
Jack tries again. "Jade has a boy—"
"Yeah, she does. She told me this morning," I say, cutting off Jack again.
Skittery looks at me. "No, she doesn't Dutchy. Don't even try it."
Angered, he stands up and leaves the room. I stare after him hopelessly before shooting Racetrack a glare.
"Why don't' you all follow his lead? Clear out of the room," says David suggestively.
"I think I will," I hiss, still glowering at Racetrack. I slam the door behind me.
End Chapter
((Uh oh, trouble in paradise! I really have nothing more to say except REVIEW!))
Shoutouts:
Jacky Higgins—thanks, Race is hard to write and I wouldn't want to write him OOC by accident.
Erin Go Bragh—I don't mind your ramblings. I ramble about soccer all the time and people tell me to shut up. I like hearing about other people's extra cirics.
Madison Square—you made that scene more light and fluffy than it was.
Charlie:Muse is my Charlie Chaplin muse who was born on the same day as me (April 16th) (not the same year, that would be scary) and my Peter!Muse is my Peter Pan muse.
Peter!Muse: yeah! I'm a muse!
Charils!Muse: are not!
(They fight)
My muses don't like each other much.
Nakaia Aiden-Sun—yeah, I know what mangas are. My friend, Killian, is made one in the sixth grade and I was in it! She draws a lot and her pictures are posted up somewhere. There's a link to her site thing in T-R-Us's bio. She's really good.