Where We End Up
Chapter 3—How Is This Possible?
Farkle already knew how to answer the prompt to Mr. Matthew's assignment. It was quite simple actually. The only question was when and where to split the timeline between "were" and "are".
Before heading to Riley's, Farkle decided he would drop by home for a few minutes just to drop off his backpack in his room. Then it was hopping out of his bedroom window and taking the shortcut to Riley's apartment.
He knew that no one was likely to be home. His father tended to work in his office at Minkus International, so his mother could be home, otherwise out running errands.
Farkle opened up his apartment door to discover utter silence at first. He made a way straight towards his room, thinking that he really was the only one currently home.
Then, he heard someone buzz in by the door.
Wondering who it was, he went over, pressing the buzzer's button, asking, "Who is it?"
"Farkle?" He heard a female voice say. "It's Smackle here."
Farkle had a puzzled look on his face for a second. "Smackle?" Then, "Come on up."
And a moment later, she showed up at the door.
"What brings you to my apartment, arch nemesis?" He said, stepping aside to let her in.
Smackle cleared her throat before responding. "I'm sure you know of my current enrollment at Einstein Academy, correct?"
"Of course." The two sat on the couch in the living room. "What about it?"
"It's not much, really. But it appears that after the eighth grade, my parents have decided to have me transferred to a different school for the ninth grade."
Farkle raised an eyebrow. "New school? Where are you going?"
"That's the thing. Next year, I will be attending your school. John Quincy Adams."
"Really? Why the change?" Farkle wasn't sure how Smackle could possibly change schools; it appeared that she enjoyed being at Einstein Academy.
"Well, my arch nemesis, it appears that my parents have called for certain...socialization order for me." Smackle paused before continuing. "So I was wondering if you were to assist me with what my parents have called for."
The boy knew where Smackle was coming from. "Socialization order" was just an intricate way of saying, that, well, Smackle needed to get out in the world more. Make new friends, hang out with them, and more so, explore the city with those friends, too. It was the reason Farkle was kept from going to a prestigious academy, so that in the long run he had good friends—no matter the GPA or standardized test scores—by his side.
After some thinking, Farkle asked, "Didn't you have some friends at Einstein Academy? Surely, you'd miss them."
"Yes, of course. However, all we usually talk about is Civil War artifacts or the newest science fiction movie, or maybe even quantum physics if they feel passionate enough."
"Well, do you feel passionate about any of those things?"
"I do. Sometimes. But occasionally, I try to mention the fact that there is a new bakery open in town, or when I bring up a so-called catchy song on the radio they seem to shut down the thought almost every time."
"Does this happen often?" The boy questioned skeptically.
"I would say half of the time I spend with them, yes."
Farkle had felt a certain familiarity of what he was hearing from Smackle. How it felt like when he didn't quite fit in. Like he didn't belong anywhere. Like he was alone. Like he felt like nothing.
It reminded him of how he felt before, of what he found to be called his personal revolution.
Growing up, Farkle was evidently the shining star in all of his classes. All gold stars, all satisfactory comments, all A+'s. He always had the highest grades in the class. He was so proud of himself, setting out to be just like his successful and rich father.
Nearly every day of his childhood, he would tell my mother or father another one of his daily accomplishments. Unfortunately, they usually weren't listening and instead be too invested in running their business. In the least, his father knew of his top ranking academic status, but didn't make too much of a fuss about it, or acted even surprised about it. The same went for his mother; she thought that it was evident that Farkle would inherit the kind of mind her husband had.
The only thing was that Farkle didn't know that. He thought that his achievements went unnoticed by his parents, that he was being ignored. He wasn't sure why that was, how it appeared that his parents didn't think much of his hard work, or how it appeared that his parents didn't think much of him at all.
Farkle then thought maybe if he became truly the best at what he did, then they would finally notice all that he had accomplished so far. Without that goal in mind, he felt like just about nothing.
He wasn't quite sure what to say in the situation with Smackle. Farkle didn't even know if she had ever felt what he did. So he said to her, "You know, you're always welcome to come by my friends and I. Riley, Maya, and Lucas. You've met them before, remember?"
"Of course," Smackle said with a smile. "I like you all very much."
Farkle grinned back. "Do you think you're going to miss Einstein Academy?"
"I will, possibly. But at least I know I have good company waiting for me."
Despite being supposed archenemies, both Farkle and Smackle had come to enjoy each other's company, while still keeping a competitive atmosphere between them. Perhaps it was going to be even more zealous the following year considering the two will likely end up in the same classes.
Smackle then stood up from the couch, and said, "I suppose I should get going. Thank you, Farkle."
"Anytime," Farkle smiled at her again.
He walked her out of the apartment, even though it was only several feet away, yet he still made the gesture anyway.
Once Smackle was gone, the eerie silence of the apartment came back. Farkle sighed. It was always like this. Always quiet. Always empty. Always lonely. At least most of the times it was.
Farkle went into his room, finally dropping off his backpack at the foot of his bed. As he decided to finally head out the window on his way to Riley's, Farkle accidentally steps on something soft. He furrowed his eyebrows, confused, and looked at where his right foot at was, realizing what he had stepped on. He nearly felt guilty about it.
Bending down, he reached for the little plush toy he had stepped on and picked it up, immediately brushing off the dirt specks on it. It was a small Pikachu plush. It was many years old, but still had that cute little smile, red cheeks, and yellow and brown lightning bolt-shaped tail.
He smiled back down at the toy.
He still remembered when he first got it, due to his former small obsession with the Pokémon anime and trading card game. Something about the first line of the anime's theme song, "I want to be the very best like no one ever was," had somehow connected with him. He felt that just as the main character wanted to be a master in the Pokémon world, then in his own world, Farkle could at least be known for his great academic accomplishments.
All in all, that Pikachu plush in his hands was iconic for Farkle. Especially because it still sat next to his other plush—Squeaky the Mouse—on his bed.
Farkle began to grow both physically and mentally. He was getting taller, and was proud to say so. Each centimeter he gained would then turn into in an inch, which would then become a whole foot that he had been able to grow. He was still relatively short, but nevertheless he was growing. And with all the time passing by, his intelligence expanded, his curiosity grew, and his high ranking academic status became permanent.
As great at that all was, the dull relationship he had with his parents remained the same.
He had stopped trying to tell either of them of his academic doings. It didn't really make a difference in anything.
However, sometimes at night, he would go to bed with the apartment way too quiet. And in that silence, Farkle clutched his plush Pikachu and Squeaky the Mouse with both arms, burrowing himself underneath the comforters, letting tears flow out of his eyes. He always tried to resist, but failed as his body shook with quiet sobs and his fingernails digging into the stitched fabric of his stuffed animals.
It didn't happen too often, at least not at first. The more time that passed in his childhood years, the more often Farkle tended to cry himself to sleep at night. The silence always present in the apartment killed him. It meant that he was still alone in the apartment. He didn't even know when either of his parents got home. He started to go to bed early just so he could escape the real world and into a dream one, whatever that was. What happened during the night became a mystery to him.
Every time it happened, the pillows were tainted wet with salty tears the morning after. So just in case his parents even cared enough to come into his room, he made sure to flip the pillows over before making his way to school.
Sure, there were times when his mother or father was present for breakfast or dinner, and on lucky days, both, it typically didn't feel too different. Whether his parents were around or not, it didn't make a difference of what Farkle felt. He felt like nothing.
And it didn't take him too long to begin to believe that he really was nothing. Not even his affection for his friends, Riley and Maya, or even his love for school could fully fill the hole in his heart.
Setting the Pikachu back next to Squeaky on his bed, Farkle looked around the room and headed out the window toward Riley's.
Above him in the sky, Farkle saw that it was partly cloudy with the sun just up ahead. It didn't seem like it was going to rain, but nevertheless he hoped that it wasn't going to anytime soon.
He started to take the shortcut over to her place, going window by window, building by building, block by block. On his way over, he heard some odd shouts from the distance, even in the mobs of New York.
Over by the local Italian restaurant, he saw a couple standing outside by the doors. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but the scene was enough for him to stop and watch them. The image of the fighting couple made his stomach drop. He gulped, his stomach twisting as the woman apparently threw a breadstick from her purse at the man in front of her and walked away.
He staggered away as well, almost at Riley's, but still not being able to wipe the image from his mind. Farkle tried to shake it off, but he couldn't. It reminded him too much of his own parents.
More recently than ever, Farkle had seen the way his parents would fight whenever they were home. It wasn't a pleasant scene. Sometimes it was even at the dinner table with him. At first, he didn't handle it as well as he did currently. However, time made him get used to it.
The first time it happened, he was in his room doing his homework when he heard the apartment door slam. Initially, he was almost glad one or both of his parents were home. But then came the yelling.
"Stuart, when will you stop obsessing over this woman? This Topanchi?!" He heard his mother say.
"First of all, it's Topanga!" His father said. "And second of all, I'm not obsessing over her!"
"She's married for God's sakes!"
"You don't think I know that?!"
That was typically followed by more shouts, two door slams, and a ring being thrown at Farkle's father. Whatever happened, Farkle tried his best to keep his distance, to not disturb either of his parents immediately after their fights, and kept from ever asking about them as well. At best, if he were to watch, he usually stood hidden behind a corner, seeing how his parents shouted all of this hate at each other.
In all honesty, he wasn't really sure why his parents never at least considered filing for a divorce. At least the fighting was going to stop. But they didn't. So nothing was ever resolved.
He still felt like nothing, like he lived by himself at home.
He hated that it happened, and that this was happening more and more frequently. Sometimes it got to him so much that over time, he eventually escaped out of his window and headed over to Riley's, Maya's, or Lucas's. Anywhere but his own home. He nearly never brought his friends to his apartment; he didn't want them to truly see what he was dealing with.
And then there was Billy.
In a time where he felt at absolute worst with his parents then not talking for days, actually being called nothing was like taking a bullet to the chest.
For the first time in a long time, Farkle legitimately sobbed himself to sleep, holding onto his two plush toys, rolled up into a ball under the covers. Only he didn't go to sleep. The tears kept him awake the whole night, so when he did try to fall asleep, it was already near morning. His pillows were practically soaked. And with the way he looked in the mirror, he tried to avoid school that day, sending a robot controlled by him to take his place instead.
But when he did look at himself in the mirror, he repulsively took off his turtle neck and threw it back into his closet, putting on a different shirt instead.
With the silence in the house, he knew his parents weren't home; they were already gone.
He sat by himself in the corner, trying to pull it together, but he just couldn't. All that he felt during his earlier childhood was suddenly starting to expose itself. That he really was nothing. That no matter what he did, he would still be considered nothing and only nothing.
Then he figured that he shouldn't totally skip school, just that his robot would take place in all of his classes while he stayed hidden nearby in a closet still being able to learn everything without anyone actually seeing him.
Except for Janitor Harley, of course; but he was very fond of him, so he didn't mind his presence in the janitor's closet.
Evidently, he couldn't stay in the closet forever. Riley had found him.
When she did, there was a look of worry on her face. He didn't know what to say to her, so at first he was silent. However, after a few words, Riley just pulled Farkle into a hug, wanting to do his best to comfort him.
The thing was even in that moment, he felt just a little bit better. His brain still believed that he was nothing. But his heart began to break through that thought.
And so after some of Riley's "fixing up," Farkle saw to accept that he could be nothing—though of course, he wasn't—even if the word was written on his forehead. Which it was at one point.
He accepted the way things were. Because he knew that maybe someday, everything was going to get better. That, he figured, was what would most likely become the climax to his personal revolution.
Farkle finally reached Riley's, climbing up towards her window. Farkle saw that Lucas and Maya were already there, probably exchanging playful banter like always. But when he stepped into her room, Riley wasn't anywhere in sight.
"Hey guys. Where's Riley?" He asked.
"That's what we're trying to figure out," Maya said. "You seen her since school?"
"Uh...nope."
Maya's phone then beeped, resulting in her taking it out and reading the text message. "Huh."
"What is it?"
"She's at the library."
"Library?" Lucas questioned. "What's she doing there?"
Maya bit her lip and started heading for the window. "To be honest, I'm not really sure, Huckleberry. But let's go get her."
They all then proceeded to head towards the New York Public Library, unsure of what to exactly expect.
But the thought of initially being unsure of Riley's whereabouts worried Farkle. Because as humorous as Maya could ever be, and as great of a moral compass as Lucas was, it was Riley who always gave him comfort and always gave him a reason to look around and just be happy. Even if it was just for a little while.
