"—And how about these, children? Would you like to try them? They're called Happy Happy sweets... they'll make you smile!"
"Yes!" exclaim the children, and Porky Minch grins, tipping the coloured beads into their hands. One little girl eagerly scoffs them down, her expression becoming blissful.
"More!" she cries. "More!"
"Of course," Porky says, waving toward a group of adults. "Hey, parents! You wanna buy some? They're cheap. Sixpence a jar?"
"No, thanks," says a woman.
"But I want them!" the girl wails.
"Olivia—"
"I want them!"
The woman sighs, pulling out her purse. Porky smiles as she hands over her coins.
"Y'know," he says carefully. "If you need a job, I'm looking for people to trial my products. The wages are good. Your kid could have a lifetime supply of my sweets."
"No, thank you," the woman says tightly.
"You sure?" Porky extends a fat hand. "We're advancing science, you know. Changing the world. Thousands have joined me already... I wouldn't want you to miss out…"
Two weeks later, another man is on the plaza. Geldegarde Monotoli, a notable politician.
"Evil Tazmily! Cruel Tazmily! Tazmily is developing its weapons, and we need to act fast!"
The crowd hurries by, keeping their heads low.
"Onett is strong. We will not be threatened by a village! Sign up for the Onett First Brigade! Bring glory to our city!"
"If it's glory you're after," Porky says, appearing from the gloom, a radiant smile on his face. "I think I can lend you a hand..."
.
.
.
~~o00o~~
Chapter 5: In Sickness
(Ness)
~~o00o~~
.
.
.
Just like that, Lucas's body falls limp in my arms.
I don't know what is happening. He fell ill earlier, but now he's gone and collapsed! Outside Headmaster Hand's office, no less — I hastily check his breathing, and air escapes his mouth. Thinking fast, I pick him up, deciding to bring him to our dormitory. He needs rest, then perhaps he'll be all right in the morning. No matter that it's early, he should sleep.
But Headmaster Hand appears from his office. "Good heavens!"
"He collapsed," I say. Lucas's body slips out of my grip, sliding on the floor. "He was having a funny turn—"
"Dear me," Headmaster Hand says, staring as I unsuccessfully try to lift him again. "How about I take him into my office? Or to the medical ward?"
"It's all right," I say, straining to haul Lucas's body over my shoulder. Headmaster Hand looks almost terrified, actually. It's unnerving. "You go back to your work, sir," I say, trying to sound composed. "I'll put Lucas to bed. Don't you worry yourself."
"...If you insist." He frowns, evidently reluctant. "But you see to it that he's all right, yes? Dr Mario's office is still open…"
"I shall," I say, and Headmaster Hand disappears through his door. I hoist Lucas onto my back. He's not too heavy, so I begin the long trudge to our dorm, still fretting like a mother hen.
Of all the worst pieces of luck. Lucas is sickly at the best of times, but this is a worrying new low. As I carry him, he mumbles occasional words, something that sounds Latin. I set him down on his bed, tucking him under the covers, and a noise of complaint comes from his mouth. I furrow my brow, worried again, and when I go to change into my pyjamas, I find he's taken my arm captive. Of course — I'd forgotten what a clingy sleeper he is. I try to release myself from his grip, but he murmurs in his sleep again, clutching tighter. I don't mind, though. After all, his bed does look comfortable... perhaps even more so than my own, and I am rather tired...
I lie down, just a few centimetres away from him. It's not queer, we've slept in the same bed before. Often, when one of us has a nightmare, we'll seek solace with the other in their bed.
Bayonetta's words come back to me. Men aren't quite my type. I prefer women.
I redden in spite of myself. This isn't like that! Lucas is just sick, and I happened to be the thing he clung to in his sleep, and I did not want to make him let go, or he would have been woken up. It's a perfectly ordinary situation! Besides, I must like girls. I have to like girls — what would the law think of me otherwise? What would Father think of me otherwise?
It wouldn't matter. He already resents you. You've already disgraced him.
I command the voice in my head to be quiet, curling up next to Lucas's unconscious form. My eyes slowly close. Tomorrow will be better, I hope.
I drift into an undisturbed sleep.
Wednesday morning breaks, and I wake in the middle of a lovely dream about steak, thanks to Lucas jolting suddenly in his sleep. He must've had a bad dream or something, but he seems all right otherwise. His blue eyes open, boring into mine.
"Hello," I murmur, suddenly self-conscious. He's quite near to my face.
"Uh, what happened?" Lucas asks, putting a hand to his head.
"You collapsed, so I carried you to bed, but you wouldn't let me go, and now it's morning, and… now we're here." I ramble like a drunkard. "How do you feel?"
"Not good." Lucas groans, rolling over. "My breathing's terrible, and my head, ow—"
"Perhaps you should take ill," I say, but Lucas grimaces.
"I have to go, or I'll fail the exams, and Father will be disappointed."
"But it's Sport first—"
"Fresh air would be good."
"Lucas, please, you were quite out of sorts last night… you might be dying!"
"I'm fine," Lucas sighs. He rolls out of bed, clumsily getting up. "See?"
There's no arguing with him, so we get dressed and take ourselves down for breakfast.
"Who's late? You're late! Who's late? You're late!" Toon Link chants as we sit.
"Lucas is ill," I explain. "And yet, he refuses to rest."
"Yes," Lucas confirms. "Because rest is boring."
"He's ill?" Red looks up sharply from the newspaper. "Take a look at this…"
We lean over.
Dastardly Disease Spells Death and Demise!
"Talk about overuse of alliteration," I grumble. Lucas shushes me.
A new disease has been discovered, found in over 100 Onetians. It
was identified on Monday in the Andonuts Laboratory. "It's a big
deal, and it's quite scary," grinned Dr Andonuts, renowned
scientist and inventor. "After examining hospital samples, it
appears this particular pathogen is viral in nature…"
He spoke for a while longer, but he used a lot of incomprehensible
vocabulary, so we have omitted it from this article. We're definitely
not only reporting the news we want you to hear.
"But I don't have that, right?" Lucas shivers, looking up. "I'll be safe."
"The symptoms weren't reported," Red says plainly. "It's uncertain how safe you will be."
"He has to be!" I burst out. "He will be all right! He will not die!"
"Ness, please, calm down," Villager says, when nearly the entire school looks over. "You don't have to get defensive. He's not gonna die, nobody said he was gonna die."
"Sorry," I say. "But I'm worried! Haven't you seen TB rates lately? And typhoid? Anything could happen!"
"Ness, don't trouble yourself," Lucas soothes. "Don't get into a panic."
"I'm not panicking!"
"You are," Red says.
"Fine." I give in. "Let's just go to Sport, and Lucas can die as we do so."
"Ugh, we have Sport first?" Toon Link complains. "Oh well, perfect time for Villager to show off to Zel—"
"Excuse me!" Villager hits him on the shoulder. "None of that, thank you. I'll have you know I don't care for her, not one bit."
"Is that so?" Toon Link says, raising an eyebrow. "We'll see about that in our next History lesson."
"I don't think so, you arse."
"Yes, I do have a nice arse, thank you for noticing."
"Why are we friends with you, exactly?"
"Because I improve your social status? You want to marry up, right?"
"Toon Link! If you were any more full of yourself—"
"Shut up!" Red interrupts, silencing them at once. "I'm trying to think."
Villager and Toon Link give each other a surprised look, and Lucas has the nerve to laugh.
"Why is it that you always ridicule me?" Red continues, shooting Lucas a glare.
"What?" Toon Link turns to look at Red in bemusement. "What are you saying? Nobody was ridiculing you."
"Not right now, other times," Red sulks. "You ignore me. You mock me."
My stomach sinks a bit — is he right?
"Where did this all come from?" Toon Link asks bluntly. "We were having a conversation, and suddenly, you're attacking us, I don't—"
"You're doing it now!" Red folds his arms. "It's especially you, calling me Reddy all the time—"
"You what?" Toon Link stares in disbelief. "I don't say that to ridicule you, it's just a nickname, you know?"
"And you're always going on at me for liking Arithmetic, and books, and—"
"Red, please." Toon Link sounds desperate now. "That's just untrue, you know it's all in good fun—"
But there's no stopping Red's rambles. "And I'd thought the rest of you would notice! Lucas, you're respectable, you should be able to see through Toon Link's act. Ness, he poured cereal over your head, surely you can see—"
"That wasn't – he made a mistake," I say, but Red shakes his head.
"I might've known you'd side with him. See you in Sport. Good day."
He gets up, marching off. An uneasy hush falls over the rest of us.
"Where did that come from?" Toon Link asks. "I knew it, he's always had it out for me."
The silence is deafening.
Lucas rubs his arm. "We should make it up to him."
"But he's deluded, he's got it all wrong!"
"We should still be nice."
"I agree," Villager says, but Lucas is just looking at the ceiling. My stomach churns with indignation. Of course, Red has to go and make everything tense, attacking us with pointless accusations, and...
...No. We haven't been the best of friends to Red in the past, and I suppose he had Christmas to realise that. My arms sink to my sides, and I sigh.
"We need to sort this out in Sport, all right?"
Everyone nods.
"Let's not be late." Villager uncrosses his legs, standing up. "We know what Wii Fit Trainer is like. C'mon, there's work to do."
It's a short walk to the changing rooms, and once we've changed into our kit, we're sent onto the bitterly cold field. There's still snow on the ground from Monday, but Wii Fit Trainer strides confidently from the school building, his feet crunching as he does.
"Greetings!" He arrives. "It's time to get fit."
I bite my lip. Often, Lucas and I skip Sport and withdraw to the art classroom, where Professor Shulk turns a blind eye as I try to replicate Lucas's painting skill. I don't know how Lucas does it, he just dances the brush across the page, and suddenly, there it is. A stunning landscape.
"Today, you will need to be in pairs." Wii Fit Trainer patrols the field. "We are starting the rugby module."
Great. It's hard to think of any sport I hate more. Of course, Olimar and Meta Knight are rubbing their hands together with glee. Usually, I'd pair up with Lucas for this, but since I need to get back on Red's good side, I look around to see if I can find him. Unfortunately, everyone else in our group has the same idea, and Villager manages to get to him first, leaving me, Toon Link, and Lucas scrambling around to find a partner. I snatch Lucas, promising to go easy on him because of his illness. Toon Link halts his run towards me, looking like a lost puppy, and then he glances around. There's nobody left.
"Toon Link! You can go with me," Wii Fit Trainer says, and Toon Link groans with horror.
"Can't I go in a three?"
"No, you cannot go in a three. This is a pair activity."
Toon Link groans again, and I laugh.
The tasks aren't too hard, as it's the first lesson of the module. All we have to do is throw some rugby balls and run with them, but I'm so decrepit that I'm panting after a few hundred metres. Lucas is quite fit, so of course, he doesn't even break a sweat. I suppose it comes from being outside a lot of the time.
He grins slyly upon seeing my exhaustion, so I'm sure to mess up his hair, showing him not to cross the supreme Ness. He gets his revenge later on by hiding my clothes when we're getting dressed. As a result, I'm the last to leave, and Lucas gets to laugh at me for a full five minutes as I search, only to find that he hid them behind his back.
"Science next," Lucas informs me. I check the timetable. He's right, but for some reason, I have a different room and professor than him. Lucas groans with disappointment upon noticing this.
"What if I'm with Olimar and Meta Knight? I don't wanna be alone with them…"
I check the timetable again. I've fortunately got Professor Rosalina, who dotes on me and Lucas, I think. I find Red in her classroom, and even better, Villager's on his other side. Time to fix this friendship.
"Hello Red!" I chirp. Too cheery. "How are you?" Too fake.
"I'm all right," he says, not looking at me.
"That's splendid." I hope I don't sound too pained. Villager gives me a sympathetic look.
The lesson passes by much the same. Unlike Lucas, I've never given much thought to science, so I don't pay as much attention as I should. Lunch passes, too — the day is shaping up to be rather plain, despite the confrontation of the morning. I run late for Art, though, and Lucas and I find ourselves walking alone in an empty corridor.
"Y'know, I think I'm getting better," Lucas says, sounding optimistic for once. "The headache isn't as bad anymore. It's like it's been and gone, whatever caused it."
"Thank goodness — see, you haven't got that new disease, what did I say?"
"You goof." Lucas pokes me. "You were the worried one."
"What can I say? I'm protective," I say, and Lucas laughs.
"I can take care of myself, you know."
I frown. He often says such things, but then he's proven wrong.
"I know," I lie. "It's just troubling, that's all. Remember primary school? And those bullies? I wouldn't want you to be hurt again."
"Those were old times, Ness," Lucas says, patting me on the shoulder.
"I know, but I need you. And that includes you being okay."
There's a pause. Lucas moves his hands into his pockets, looking strangely at me. It's almost as though he sees through everything I am.
"I need you too, Ness." His voice is hushed, but I hear it clearly.
The moment is abruptly broken.
"Boys, why aren't you in lessons?"
It's Professor Rosalina.
I panic, trying to look natural, not as if I'm having a sentimental moment with my closest friend. "We were… uh..."
"We were just going there now," Lucas says. "It's Art, you see, on the other side of school. You know how we wouldn't want to miss that."
"Oh, of course, my apologies." Rosalina backtracks, her face warming back into her usual smile. Lucas is a genius. "Yes, of course. Shulk was ranting and raving about having his favourite student back... I did see your desert piece, Lucas, it's rather impressive."
"Thanks." Lucas blushes, trying to look anywhere except Rosalina's face.
"But that's not why I'm here," Rosalina says. "I was looking for Ness. He's received a letter."
There's a short pause.
"A letter," I repeat, swallowing. Receiving a letter is almost always bad news. "Who's it from?"
"Home," she says simply. "Now, of course, your letters are usually given out in the morning, but considering the nature of, uh, some of your other letters from home... I think it should be preferable if you opened this with an adult."
I redden profusely. She doesn't think I can handle a letter from my father?
"So, may I invite you into my office? Of course, if you'd rather not…"
"Of course," I say quickly. "May Lucas come too?"
"Naturally." Rosalina smiles, and the quirk of her eyebrow feels a little condescending. "You two are joined at the hip, are you not? Come on."
She leads us to her office. It's a lush blue room, decorated with painted spirals and galactic patterns — we'd first met Rosalina when Lucas had walked by and commented on it. We sit down dutifully in front of her desk, Lucas on the right and me on the left. Her seats are a lot more comfortable than Bowser's wooden bench.
I take the letter from Rosalina's hand.
~~o00o~~
Ness,
This is a new low. One day into the term, and I've already received two letters concerning your misbehaviour. Need I remind you of your past failures? I expect a lot better from someone who calls himself my son.
I shouldn't have to keep telling you this. This isn't your childhood anymore. There is no time to be messing about, wasting time on idiotic things. If you work hard, then perhaps you'll finally give yourself some value. Perhaps you will take yourself a wife, a family, a business.
But you will find yourself a pauper if you maintain this disgraceful behaviour. I won't be lenient for much longer.
Take heed, or there will be consequences.
From, Father.
~~o00o~~
I look up, miserable again. "But I don't want those things."
"You don't want a wife?" Lucas sounds curious. He'd been reading over my shoulder.
"Uh." I'm caught aback. "Well, perhaps not right now..."
"Forgive me, for it is not my place to say, but…" Rosalina shakes her head. "Don't listen to him, Ness. That letter was diabolical."
"I won't," I lie. Failure. I expect a lot better. "We should go to Art," I add. It sounds like a poor excuse.
"Well, before you do..." Rosalina bites her lip. "There's another letter. It's from your sister."
~~o00o~~
Ness,
Tracy here. I hope boarding school is treating you well. Although, it probably isn't. It is run by an aristocrat, after all.
How is Lucas? Is he still innocent? I hope so. I've been having a fine time in Onett, though I wish I was at school with you. Father still thinks that because I'm a girl, he shouldn't have to pay for me to have a decent education. The public school's reached a new record of thirty beatings in one day.
Frankly, I might as well be a boy, what with the football and the short hair. I might pretend to be one, just so I can get a better job. But Father says short hair isn't ladylike of me, and he's confiscated my scissors. Also, I saw him writing a letter to you earlier — that's why I'm writing one too; I'm quite sure his will
be bad news.
I have little to comment on, so I hope your reply is somewhat interesting. I hope you're getting into immense trouble over there, it really pisses Father off, and it's hilarious. See you soon, OK?
From your favourite little sister,
Tracy.
~~o00o~~
I smile. I miss Tracy. She's a pest and she's loud, but she's great fun. She shouldn't be dealing with Father's rage, though it seems she's better at dealing with it than I am.
"Well, I hope that was nicer," Rosalina says.
"It was."
"Well, Ness?" Lucas's lip twitches. "Am I still innocent?"
"Of course," I say without hesitation.
"Now, before you return to your lessons..." Rosalina looks purposeful again. "Ness, in my science class, you came across rather distracted. Is anything else troubling you?"
My mind flashes back.
"People are disappearing."
A grotesque face, pressed against the window.
"Lucas won't know what hit him."
"Nope." I swallow. "Nothing at all, Professor."
.
.
.
.
.
Professor Shulk doesn't seem to mind that we're late, declaring that a mid-afternoon stroll is great for provoking artistic thought. I often wonder if the man has had a sane thought in his life.
He comes over to me and Lucas at once. "I told the class earlier because, you know, you weren't here, but this term, we're focusing on the theme of war. Obviously, you two will want to major in painting again?"
We nod. Painting is the only medium of art I don't defile.
"Fantastic," he says. "So, each lesson, I'll bring in some newspaper articles concerning the tensions between Onett and Tazmily. Then, we'll spend a week's worth of lessons making paintings inspired by them. By the end of the term, you'll have a portfolio of finished works. This term's, what, six weeks? And you're missing one for Wilderness Survival Week, of course. So, all in all, you'll probably end up with five pieces."
We nod, taking it all in. Shulk talks a lot, but that's all right. I've always been fond of him, and not just because he's blond like Lucas. He speaks to us as old friends, a rarity among adults.
"So, you'll want to start with today's painting," he says. "There are some newspapers left over there, so best of luck."
Lucas and I wander over.
Dark Days Approaching, Warns B.H Pirkle.
"Please don't ask me to take any responsibility," Pirkle said, following
news of the virus. "I'll be able to avoid any responsibility, right?"
Hilly Tazmily, Oh So Silly!
Tazmily is threatening our glorious city! Tazmily and its very
marginally hotter temperatures, its unnatural oils and its
strange outfits… Tazmily and their woollen clothes! Join
the Onett First Brigade, and join the fight against poor fashion
choices...
Lucas picks up the last article, scanning it with his brow furrowed. "Tazmily wouldn't do that. It's just a tiny village. Onett will crush it."
"Do you notice," I mutter. "It doesn't say how Tazmily threatened Onett. It merely insults the Tazmilian culture."
"I'm taking it," Lucas says firmly. "I'm going to paint Tazmily, and it will be beautiful."
"I've never seen what Tazmily looks like."
"I'll show you." Lucas's eyes shine. "It was full of sunflowers, loads of pretty buildings. It was a happy place. Well, mostly."
"Mostly?"
"Like any place, there were some bad people," Lucas admits. "But mostly, it was great."
"So why did you not stay there?"
"Father needed to go to Onett for work." Lucas runs his fingers across the headline, not meeting my gaze. "And I suppose Tazmily reminded him too much of... other things."
"Other things?"
"Mother."
"Mother?" A cold feeling slips through my chest. "What - what do you mean, your mother?"
"Ness." Lucas looks up, his eyes meeting mine intensely. "I should've told you. My mother died, ages ago. Back when I was living in Tazmily."
My hand slips off the table, and I yank him into a silent hug.
"It's okay." He hugs back. "It's - I recovered, it was - heatstroke, they say… that killed her."
"But Lucas." A terrible thought strikes me. "If your mother — and your brother — and your father is the way he is... who looks after you, Lucas?"
"Erm." He seems to shrink in on himself. "I look after myself, I suppose."
"Lucas..." I trail off, trying to comprehend this new information. It's just not Right. It's not right in the slightest. Here's me with my gentle mother and sister, all the money I can dream of, but then there's Lucas, so alone, so broken, so poor. The injustice of it all makes me want to scream, to do something, anything. I close my eyes for a few seconds, willing my guilt to stay in.
"I want to go back to Tazmily someday," Lucas says quietly. "Away from this terrible city."
"I'll come with you," I say. "I'd come with you wherever."
"You would?" Lucas's eyes stare upwards into mine. There's surprise in them.
"I would."
He smiles. "Thank you, Ness."
There's a silence, and then there's closeness. I bury my head in Lucas's hair.
"We should paint." Lucas unwraps his arms from around me.
He's right. The lesson must be half an hour through already, and our canvases are blank. I take the headline about the mayor, thinking I can do something with that word, responsibility.
I'm not great at painting, if I'm honest. Lucas paints like a professional, and to be honest, I'm only studying art because he is, but that's okay. I think.
Dark days… responsibility…
Hmm. I get some black on my brush, and I sweep it around the canvas's border, enclosing the white inside. Yes, that's good, that looks like a metaphor. Lucas seems to be laying down a light blue foundation for whatever he'll be doing. He looks over at my painting.
"What was your headline?"
I show him.
"Ah, of course." He nods as if it explains everything.
I carry on, layering in some indigo, adding a softening tone of a darker purple, which blends with the black to form a gradient. So far, this looks more like a crystal than anything else.
Days...
I begin outlining something vaguely resembling a calendar in the corner. There's still a large white void in the middle. I'm unsure what to put there.
"Nana?" Lucas says suddenly. She comes over.
"Lucas?"
"How do I create that shining effect, there?"
Lucas points to Nana's watermelon painting. I have several questions about how a watermelon relates to war.
"Oh, you just have to be bold with the white," Nana says enthusiastically. "That's a lake there, right? So sweep some white across the blue, and it'll be perfect."
"Oh, thank you."
"And Ness." She turns on my canvas. "Interesting work. I cannot think of anything I'd add. Then again, I'm not an abstract artist..."
"Thanks," I say, slightly puzzled. She doesn't leave.
"By the way, you made quite the impression on Bayonetta. She's been talking about you to everyone she meets."
Ah yes, Bayonetta, I'd almost forgotten her. The loud girl from Business who likes women.
"What has she been saying?" I ask. Nana raises her eyebrows.
"That you're the only boy she's met who hasn't tried to court her."
"Right," I say. The thought of her talking about me renders me a little uncomfortable. "She's only interested in women, so, uh..."
"Yes, I know that already." Nana frowns. "What is your point?"
I will myself to enter the ground. I feel uncomfortable, the same way I always seem to around girls, and I make a large red mark on my canvas, cursing. Ignoring that, Nana puts her hands together, turning back to Lucas. "Well, I'll see you around!"
She leaves. Lucas and I exchange a glance, and we continue with our paintings. I take a look at his, and, damn this, why does it already appear complete?
The rest of the double art lesson goes by as expected, but I groan when I discover how we'll be finishing the day, with the misery of English Literature…
…and Lucas and I sit down, the unusual Pit twins surrounding us. I feel a slight twinge of guilt, remembering the disease in the newspaper and how they'd said their father is ill. But there's little time for soft feelings as Bowser blunders into the classroom with yet another poem he doesn't know the meaning of. And neither do I. Someone once said it's likely I have some form of literary blindness, which just adds to my pile of worries. My mind drifts off, absent from the shouting, floating over to yesterday, Business Studies...
'Men aren't quite my type. I prefer women.'
And all of a sudden, it's all I can do to stop myself slamming my head against the table. Normal boys think girls are pretty, normal boys want girls. They want to take girls to their bedrooms and do things with them. I should want that too, shouldn't I?
But I've never been a normal boy.
Why don't I want what the other boys want? I don't understand. I should want it — there's Zelda right there, isn't she pretty? With her hair and her... what else is supposed to be pretty? Her visage, perhaps — yes, that's nice, but... no. Just — no!
I give up. I cannot understand. Something went wrong when making me. I've malfunctioned, somehow. I don't understand, I don't understand—
"Ness, are you all right?" A soft voice — Lucas's — to my side.
"Of course." I try to cover my face, pretending I'm not having a crisis. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Lucas. I can tell Lucas everything. He's my closest, most precious friend… but no, I cannot inflict this upon him! That'd be selfish. He's got enough trouble with his mother and his brother, he doesn't need my ridiculous problems. This is my dilemma, not his.
"Ness?" Lucas sounds more insistent now, concern ringing through his voice. "Are you having a Turn?"
"I'm fine," I lie. "Just afraid of failing English."
It's a dreadful excuse, and I know it. I look up at the ceiling, hoping it will collapse on my head.
"We'll talk later," Lucas says. "I know there's more."
Oh no, talk later? What will he think, making a scene like this? No, I cannot tell him. I mustn't. It'll ruin everything — girls are attractive, girls are beautiful, I must love them, please, it has to be true, let me believe it, let me be normal!
But normal boys don't get caught up in this hysteria. Normal boys don't cry, so what the hell am I? Why wasn't I put on the reject pile at birth?
"Ness..." Lucas sounds afraid now. How must I look? A mental collapse in the middle of English class? I'm digging myself into a deep abyss, a black pit of despair. I need to be rational. Perhaps it'll be all right. Perhaps I'm just — perhaps I haven't hit puberty yet — perhaps I'm a little behind everyone, yes, that's it, perhaps I'll think girls are attractive in time. Perhaps… but what if...
"Right, Ness, we're leaving now," Lucas decides, cutting off my thoughts. "You need rest. You're practically having a fit."
I'm so taken aback that the panic is almost driven from my mind. It's so unlike Lucas to skip class, but then again, he's right. I need to get out of here, away from these judgemental eyes, the ones that look into my soul. Perhaps I can go and bury myself under the covers, crying like a little girl.
Too negative.
Or spend some time with Lucas...
Why would he want to be seen with you?
Or, or, anything, just—
Bowser turns his back, facing the blackboard. Lucas stands to a suppressed gasp. I follow, my eyes burning, and we run, hoping Bowser doesn't notice.
We're away.
Pull yourself together.
Lucas takes me by the hand, leading me. I let him. I hope we're going somewhere that feels less menacing — the dormitories, perhaps, they're safe. There's no Bowser there. I breathe, in, out. The air is cold against my tongue, against the roof of my mouth. I inhale deeply, and suddenly we're in our room; I'm swimming in darkness, the nights are so cold, so early. It's black already, and it's barely late. Bed, there is my bed. I fall on it. It's soft. Lucas sits by me.
"Ness, what happened?"
I freeze up completely.
Lucas touches my back.
And, quite suddenly, the ridiculousness of it all falls on me like a ton of bricks. What was I getting so worked up about? What was that? Did I seriously dig myself into a void that big? Warmth rushes through me, spreading from Lucas's touch, despite the cold of the room. I redden a little as Lucas pulls me into his arms. What an embarrassing scene I made… in a way, it's funny, it really shouldn't be funny, but frankly, only I could be such a fool. It'll be all right in time — surely, I'm not so terrible. I push the dark thoughts back to the Hell they came from. Now is not the time to fight. I gaze into Lucas's worried eyes.
"Sorry," I say.
"What are you sorry about, Ness?"
"It's all right. I worked myself into a panic," I try to explain. "It was — childish."
"What were you panicking about?" Lucas asks, not taking his eyes off mine. His voice is soft. I laugh slightly.
"Nothing important."
"It's important to me."
"Really, it's nothing remarkable."
There's a slight pause. Lucas looks out to the window, and then looks back towards me, meeting my eyes.
"Ness. You're my best friend. If something worries you, worries you enough that you start shaking, panicking, Christ knows what else — I need to know. Just to ease my mind, if anything."
I sigh. He's right, he's always right.
"You've had a difficult day, Ness." He takes my hand in his. "With Red, and then in Art, and then with those letters. Fits happen. It's nothing to be ashamed of."
"I suppose it overcame me." I feel a little condescended, but I rub my face, being honest for once. "I was just getting worked up about..." I gulp. "It's a tad queer. I was worrying about... girls. That I don't think they're, erm, pretty? Or beautiful, or attractive, and I rather think I should, but..."
I run out of words, desperately seeking his approval.
"Ness, that's all right." Lucas smiles slightly. "That's not something you can control. That's not, that's not bad, or anything."
"It isn't?" I look at him, uncertain.
"No. If anything, I agree."
I frown. "Agree? How do you mean?"
"I don't find girls too pretty either."
For some reason, at his words, I find myself relieved. If Lucas feels the same, then perhaps it isn't so wrong.
"Sorry for putting this upon you," I say.
"Ness, don't apologise." He hugs me again. "It's better to share these things, I think. I told you about my mother. You told me about this."
"Thanks, Lucas. You're so — you're wonderful, you truly are."
We break apart, and I'm aware that I'm shaking a little. But in Lucas's presence, even red-faced, I don't feel ashamed.
"Now, erm..." Lucas shifts in the silence, looking up at me again. "We've got time to research the Face, if you'd like."
"Yes," I say. "I'd like that." Something to think about, something to focus on with Lucas. That'd be nice. Wonderful, even.