Chapter Four

Parents Weekend

“This is sort of ridiculous,” Evan was saying as he accompanied Von on the walk to the cafeteria for breakfast. “We walk to breakfast together, you sit by yourself, then we walk to class together.”

“No. I walk and you follow me. You're always waiting for me in the hall. Do you think you're a dog?”

“Why don't you just sit with us? Your friend is welcome, too.”

“He's not my friend,” Von said quickly.

“If he's not your friend, why do you sit with him?”

“You talk to much.”

“Being friendly is not talking too much. Gabriella talks too much.” Gabriella Luchesi was a boisterous girl in their history class.

“You give me a headache.”

“And you're just ridiculous. You know, I had a dream about you last night.”

“What happened?”

“Well, it wasn't really about you. We were in the old Victorian--”

“It's called Brayton--”

“I like calling it the old Victorian. Anyway, we were in there and there was a cat jumping from rafter to rafter in the attic; a big orange tom. And we kept trying to catch it. Then it jumped out the window and you lunged out after it. Then I found a sandwich in my pocket and I ate it, thinking it was the best sandwich I'd ever eaten. It was pastrami on rye and I've never had pastrami on rye in my life. Then my father came and gave me a bag of shredded money. And I put some of it on my sandwich.”

“That makes no sense.”

“It was a dream. Do your dreams make sense?”

“Mostly.”

“I bet you dream in black and white, don't you?”

“Sometimes.”

“I always dream in color. I dreamed about Kami night before last,” he added with a grin.

Von groaned. At the mention of his Kami Evan proceeded to delve into another anecdote of the two of them when they were younger, ending with, of course, how he was going to marry her. He stopped listening, noticing the posters adorning every wall in the hallway to the cafe. Beside the ones advertising the upcoming Homecoming game and following dance were ones boldly lettered 'Parents Weekend'. Even the mere sight of the words felt ominous.

“Is parents weekend mandatory?” he asked Evan worriedly as they stood in line for their breakfast.

Evan shrugged, grabbing a fruit salad from the rack. “I doubt it, since some of the parents live so far away.”

“Good.”

“Why?” he asked, perplexed. “Your mother can’t come?”

“She's very busy. She has to run Rosencrance House and does a lot of volunteer work and goes to all sorts of functions.” It wasn’t a total lie. Not exactly.

“Does she write you a lot?”

Von shrugged. “When she can. She's just so busy. What about your family?”

“Uncle Peter’s not much of a writer so he calls me a couple times a week. Checking up on me, I reckon. Thinks I’m not going to do very good on my own. He‘s coming, you know. I can‘t wait.” His eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh maybe, you know, I don’t know what sort of plans you may have, but maybe you could come down with me for Christmas or that other break you get right before it. You could stay with us. It would be fantastic!”

Von thought over his reply carefully. “I don’t think I could. My mother’s really looking forward to having me home.”

Evan nodded. “Fine. Be that way,” he sighed. “But you simply must come down sometime. You’d have a wicked time.”

Von made a slight noncommittal nod before leaving to sit at the far table across from Daniel.

“Are your parents coming?” the boy asked after a moment.

Von glared at him annoyed. Could the masses speak of nothing else? “No.”

“Mine aren't, either. I’ll see them for Christmas.” He smiled. “Do your parents like to forget you exist as well?”

Von’s eyes narrowed. “They’re both very busy people and I wouldn’t want them to even waste their time coming to this place.”

Daniel said nothing, content to stare down at his plate during the rest of breakfast.

xXxXx

Mrs. Sumarly had watched the pair carefully as soon as they had entered the sacred threshold to her precious English classroom. Von could feel her eyes following him like lasers as he went to his new assigned seat on the opposite side from Evan. She went on to explain their next assignment, stating that she would assign them to their groups. Von noticed more than one pair of eyes shift towards him and Evan, and Avalon beside him covered her mouth with her hand to hide her giggle. She didn't seem to mind the new seating arrangement.

After their spelling test they were broken into four groups of three to write a short skit about their first month at Allister. Von found himself together with pale, freckled-faced boy named Hunter Nodes-Rushing, and a blond girl with a sour expression, Lena Marcum.

“I think we should go through a daily routine,” Lena began. “Like, we'd get up and go to classes. And then to lunch and Assembly.”

“That's boring,” Hunter jeered. “We should make it like a movie trailer. Like a horror movie,” he said, excited.

“That's ridiculous!” Lena scolded.

“In two weeks it'll be Halloween. It is appropriate for the season,” Von informed her. “And I do like the movie trailer idea. I could be the narrator and the two of you could act everything out. We could do something like, 'Welcome to Allister Academy, where your nightmares become your reality.”

“Yeah!” Hunter exclaimed. “Can I get killed? I want to get killed!”

“You'd make a better zombie. If we have to do this stupid movie idea can we at least have some romance in it?”

“Yeah! We could get together, and I could die. Tragically! And then come back as a zombie.”

“I'd rather Von be my love interest and murder you in a jealous rage.”

“Him? Over me?”

“You're annoying.”

Von started jotting down notes. “We could do a trailer going through the day highlighting the different aspects of student life. Classes, friendships, betrayals, murder. Everything normal.”

xXxXx

“I can't wait till this weekend,” Avalon was telling him as they breaked for for their next class, animated with excitement. Hunter and Lena had agreed to meet him the following day after Assembly to finish their skit. “I mean, Mom's been here dozens of times because of Dad and my sisters, but this is the first year I've been here.” Evan had brushed past him shouting back something about meeting Kamryn. Perhaps he was a bit miffed by the dog comment?

“How many sisters do you have?”

“Two. Gwennie and Athena. They're both older than me. Athena's in eighth grade and Gwen's in eleventh.”

He spoke nothing as she prattled on about her family, concentrating more on the path in front of him, kicking leaves up as he went.

“Sit with me at lunch today.”

“I have to go to the library to get a book.”

“You can get it after class.”

He didn't say no.

“Where do you live?” she asked.

“Mallone. It's north of here.”

“Oh. We live about half an hour away. I wish we could just live here. Then there wouldn't be such a long drive home every day. But my mother will never have that.” She ran her hands briskly through her hair, ripping out the pony tail holder and massaging her scalp. “It's too cold to have my hair up.” Turning her attention back to him, she asked, “Do you read a lot?”

“I suppose. Why?”

“Because you write. Gwennie wants to be a writer, but she's never written anything even half as good as you.”

Was that a compliment? He just shrugged, unsure as how to reply.

She went on. “She writes a lot of stupid stuff about girls and their relationships with guys. All her stories sound the same just with different characters. But she thinks she's just an amazing writer just because she gets A's on all of them.”

“Does she have Mrs. Sumarly?”

“Yeah.”

He laughed. “So that's what she likes to read.”

“Why? Don't you get A's?”

“Not in her class. In all my other ones I haven't gotten anything but. She gives me B's and C's on everything. She's dragging down my average. It's annoying.”

“You should write a romance just to see what she'll do.”

“And if she makes me read it in front of the class?”

She couldn't help but giggle. “That would be so funny.”

“Not to me. Well, maybe...” he trailed off. “Can I read something of your sister's, to get a notion of what she likes.”

“Sure! I'm sure she won't mind. Where do you go next?”

“History.”

“I have math.

They parted ways at the history building where she went on to the structure beyond it for her class. Von sat in his usual seat, Evan plopping down beside him. “Is that girl your girlfriend?”

He inhaled deeply with irritation. “I told you before no. Please stop asking.”

Evan shrugged. “Things change.” He went on, “We're going to do a classroom scene. I'm going to be the teacher.”

“Pity your students.”

“Yes. I'm going to be really mean and give them demerits for everything. It will be a comedy piece,” he said in a perfect imitation of Mrs. Sumarly. “What is your group doing?”

“You'll see at rehearsal.”

Sighing, he moaned, “You're no fun, Von.”

Mrs. Madison also combined them into groups that afternoon, but to make decorations for the walls of the room and the halls of the history building. They were having a harvest theme. Made sense, being it was October. He and Evan were together with the aforementioned Gabriella, a slightly pudgy girl with a mane of curly black hair from Italy. She and Evan were the only foreign students in the sixth grade.

Von was half listening to her tale of woe that her parents wouldn't be coming as he colored the 'M' in 'Welcome'. An aunt had fallen ill and they decided not to make the journey now but to wait until Christmas. So tragic.

Her nonstop speech accompanied by the hideous shrieking noises coming from the hamster cage on the table beside him were starting to irritate him. He longed to tell her to just shut up.

“What of yours?” she asked Evan, her large eyes peering at him intently. Perhaps she found him as interesting as every other girl in their grade.

Von stared down at the picture. Gabriella was a decent artist. She had drawn a large cornucopia inhabited by different vegetables and fruits beneath the 'Welcome' on the poster board. She was now at work on a leafy border, adding small circles here and there that he assumed must be berries. His and Evan's job was to color.

“My uncle's coming,” Evan answered. “He lives in Virgina.”

“And your parents?”

“They can't make it.”

“And you, Von?” He liked the way her heavily accented voice said his name. She elongated the A sound.

“They're not coming.”

“So none of our parents are coming but we are doing all of the decorations.” This was apparently immensely funning because she proceeded to laugh for nearly a full minute.

Von rubbed his temple with one finger, trying to ease the throbbing.

“What's wrong?” Evan asked. He was coloring the 'L'.

“That stupid creature is giving me a headache.”

“Her or the hamster?” he whispered to Von with a giggle. “Just open it and turn his wheel over. We can fix it before we leave.”

“I'm not putting my hand in there.”

“I'll do it,” Gabriella volunteered, standing. She opened the cage and turned the wheel on it's side, but also plucked the hand sized creature from it's little plastic world and held it out for their inspection. “Mr. Nibbles is such a cute little hamster. I used to have one.”

“What happened to it?” Evan asked.

“Papa stepped on him. I want another one. Here, Von, hold him while I fix his cage.”

He watched in wide-eyed disdain as she dropped the squiggling creature into his hand. It's warm body and tiny, probing hands made chills run down his spine. How weird to have such minuscule palms and digits. He wanted it gone. Now.

“Evan, take it away from me.”

The blond smile deepened into a smirk. “What's wrong? Are you scared of the little defenseless hamster?”

“Just take it off of me,” he said evenly through clenched teeth.

Evan merely laughed and went back to coloring.

He set his hand trembling onto the floor, trying to urge the evil little thing off of his hand amidst Evans bemused comments.

“Get off,” he muttered to the thing, poking it in its' back.

He jerked back as the creature's tiny teeth tore into his flesh, tossing the hamster almost to the wall. It landed, rolling over onto its' belly, darting its' head around in fright.

“Von!” Gabriella scolded him, grabbing the hamster and hugging it securely to her chest. “You're so mean!”

“It bit me!” he hissed, rubbing his sore finger.

“Because you're mean!”

The picture was finally completed—mostly by Evan, who kept jabbing Von's ribcage--and they were set free of their class room set prison of makers and posterboard.

“I can't believe you're afraid of one stupid little hamster, Von,” Evan exclaimed excessively loud as they exited the building.

“Say it louder. I don't think everyone heard you.”

He laughed, falling into the familiar step beside him. “The weather is so much nicer today--”

“You always comment on the weather.”

“Because I like to compare it with Kent. Anyway, before you so rudely thought to interrupt me, I was going to suggest that we skip the Assembly and go for a walk.”

“To where?”

He shrugged. “Anywhere. Let's explore. Kami's going to some study group this afternoon. Come on, Von, maybe we'll find some frighteningly large wild hamsters. And we can hunt them and hang their stuffed carcasses like trophies on the walls of our dorms.”

“You're not funny.”

“Yes I am. You just don't agree. Let's put our bags and books in our rooms and then go.”

Somehow, he was finding, he was always ending up doing exactly what Evan wanted. And before he knew it they were cutting through the fields of campus and into the trees.

“Where are we going?”

“Where dear Lady Fortune takes us.”

“Is that the English way of saying you don't know?”

Evan laughed continuing through the small forest. “I didn't think I would like it here, but I do. You're father came here, too, then?”

“Yes. I suppose that's why Monty sent me here.”

“You're servant picked your school?” he asked, incredulous.

“My mother's been very preoccupied since my father's been gone,” he told him heatedly. “She leaves everything to Monty now.”

“And he got rid of you.” It wasn't a question.

Glaring at his classmate, Von asked, “Why did you come here?”

Evan shrugged again, glancing toward the fading sun. “Because Kami was coming here. It wasn't my choice to move to America so I asked if I could at least go to the same school as her.” He flicked his head back towards Von. “How much longer until dark you reckon?”

“A good two hours.”

He nodded. “Wanna race?”

“You'll just beat me.”

“And you're just so much fun. Does your leg hurt you all the time?”

“Only when it's convenient,” he sneered.

“You don't have to be defensive.” The blond skipped ahead of him. “What do you want to be when you grow up, Von?”

“A scientist like my father,” he told him without hesitation.

“Too much studying.” He made a face to illustrate his disgust. “I just want to be famous. And rich! Super rich. I'd like to be in a band, or maybe an actor. Or just famous for doing absolutely nothing. That would be the absolute greatest. They'd report me in the tabloids for going to McDonalds or something equally as ridiculous,” he laughed.

“You just want everybody to notice you and tell you how cute and wonderful your are. You like attention.”

“Yes. Yes I do.”

“I don't.”

He smiled. “You know, you draw more attention to yourself by trying so hard not to. A lot of the other kids talk about you. They think you've led some kind of mysterious past.”

“And I could say the same about you.” He walked ahead of him. “I guess I'll just have to rethink my ingenious plan.”

“Eh, what's down here?” Evan asked, running up the path as it came to a sloping end.

Hurrying to catch up with him he said as it came into view through a break in the line of trees, “Another path.” A gravel path laden with decaying leaves wide enough for a car stretched before them, engraved into the hillside, the lower slopes of the valley visible beyond it.

“Let's follow it to its' end!” Evan exclaimed.

Wooden steps once painted a brick red, now weathered and peeling with time, cut into the steep terrain connected the path they were on to the larger one. Von followed without protest, taking in the scenery around them as he descended the steps slowly after Evan. The path was lined on both sides with tall, brightly colored leaves, all shades of reds, yellows, oranges, and browns, and seemed to travel on forever in both directions.

“Which way?” he asked his friend.

“To the left!” Evan shouted, marching onward. “This is eerie almost. Like something out of a movie. The way it goes on. It would be a minging place to come to at night.”

“Minging?” he questioned.

“You know; supurb, wonderful!”

“It sounds like an action.”

“What do you know?”

“I can't see the end, Evan. Do you really expect us to follow it that far?”

“We can try. Come on, Von. I'm not going to keep waiting for you.”

Letting out a deep breath he followed his friend down the path.

xXxXx

“Do you have any idea where we are?” Von asked, pausing to rest for what seemed the ninetieth time.

“Nope.”

“My leg hurts. And it's starting to get dark.”

Evan looked around not seeming too concerned. “Let's go back up the hill. That way we can at least see where we are.”

“I will never make it up there. Did you not notice how steep it is?”

“You made it down fine.”

“On a path. With wooden steps. Which we seemed to have missed on our way back.”

“Come on,” he grabbed him by the hand, yanking him to his feet. “I'll help you.”

With Evan's help he managed to climb the deep ravine, holding fast to the skeletal trees to keep from sliding backward. Exhausted and out of breath the pair breached the top where he let himself collapse onto the cold blanket of dead leaves, breathing heavily.

“You all right?”

He closed his eyes, trying to will away the pain. “Maybe I'll just die here.”

“Um...Von...”

“What?”

“Um...we're in a cemetery.”

“What?” he asked, opening his eyes as he sat upright, the pain in his leg creeping up his side. He held his breath.

They were surrounded by a city of high white stones, looming bright and ominously orange in the light of the setting sun. He hated cemeteries.

Von climbed quickly to his feet, wincing at the pain. “I know where we are,” he told Evan softly. “I saw this on the drive here. If we follow the road down a ways the school will be on the left.” He walked fast, limping substantially.

“What's the matter, Von?” Evan asked, catching up to him. “You don't like the big scary cemetery.”

“Who likes cemeteries?”

“The dead, probably. You're scared, aren't you?” the blond continued his taunting.

“Do you have any comprehension of what 'leave me alone' means?” he asked, walking faster. Or trying to at the least.

“I'd wager you'd be too frightened to come here at night.”

“And you wouldn't be?”

“Not at all,” he laughed, skipping past him. “In fact, we should come here on Halloween night. Or are you too much of a baby, Von?”

“That's a stupid idea. We'd just get in trouble.”

“You're just scared,” he teased. “When we get back to the dorm you'll go straight to bed you're so frightened. You're going to lay alone in bed in that big dark room all by yourself and wet yourself because you're too terrified to get up even to go to the bathroom. And then you'll call your Mum. And say, 'Mummy, Mummy, I wet myself. Will you come tuck me in and make it better. Because I'm such a moronic ba-'”

“Fine!” he yelled. “If it'll get you to shut up, I'll go.”

“Great!” Evan cried, beaming. “Now we need to set up a plan—”

“Just shut up.”

“I'll see you in the morning!” Evan told him without a beat, running forward at the sight of their dorm.

Picking up the phone before even turning on the light as he entered his room he dialed the number to is house.

It picked up on the sixth ring. “Hello.”

“Monty.”

“Louie?”

“Did you hear about Parents Weekend?”

“I got the notice.” He could almost see Monty nodding.

“Are you bringing her?”

“I don't know...” the older man trailed off.

“Are you coming or not, Monty?” Von demanded angrily into the phone. “I need to know.”

“Since your mother’s still very ill, I believe it’s best for her not to travel.”

He said nothing, chewing his cheek thoughtfully, trying to keep that idiot Montague from realizing he was upset.

It was better this way, anyway.

“I’ll see you at Christmas then.”

“Don’t you get a break for Thanksgiving?”

“No. Bye.”

It’s better she doesn’t come here, he mused. It is. I don't want to see her anyway. He switched the light on angrily.

xXxXx

Von laid his head against the table's cool wood surface the following day as he listened to Hunter and Lena bicker back and forth, praying to the powers that be he'd never be grouped with either of them ever again, writing feverishly in his notebook. He dropped the pen, finishing and sitting up. “There's the censored version. We'll perform this tomorrow at the rehearsal.”

“Why? Do you think we're really going to get in trouble for this?” Lena asked with concern.

He shook his head, rubbing his left temple. He always got headaches on that side of his head. “We want the element of surprise. I don't think the others are doing anything like ours. And we'll try to go last.”

“I was thinking--”

“Does your head hurt now?” Lena interrupted.

“Oh, shut up, Lena! I got an idea. I could be stalking you. And then Von kills me in a rage of jealousy. And then I could come back as a zombie. And then I kill you both. It'll be like Night of the Living Dead.”

If he said 'and then' one more time Von was going to hurt him.

“Fine. Zombie. Whatever. We know the basic outline of what we're going to have. I'll write the classroom scene. Lena, you write the confrontation and murder. And Hunter can write the rest.”

To his immense surprise, they proceeded without grumbling to do as he asked in silence, handing over their masterpieces for Von's inspection upon completion. He skimmed through it and, amused, glanced over at Lena. “I just happen to be carrying a sword?”

“Well, you needed something to kill him with.”

Gathering together their work he brought it to his room to edit it together. Making the writing of three different people flow proved more difficult than he'd imagined. He finally finished near eleven, and crept silently down the hall to Evan's room where he knocked softly at the door. Technically he wasn't supposed to leave his room after ten. Evan may not even be up. No. He was sure he was.

“You may enter.”

Slowly he pulled the door open, stepping inside, careful to close it back again quietly. Evan's roommate, Ian, slept peacefully on the opposite bed while Evan typed away on his laptop. “Isn't this a surprise?”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Of course,” he turned, giving him a knowing grin. “For a price.”

“Then forget it. I can get Avalon to do it.”

He rose from the chair. “Alright, you won't owe me a favor. Just keep this one in mind the next time I require one.”

“I only want you to read the part of the narrator in English on Friday.”

“Not tomorrow?”

“It's going to be a different script.”

Evan smiled at him. “What do you have planned?”

“Nothing interesting, believe me. But I don't think she'd approve, so I wrote two versions.”

“Can I read it?”

“No. You'll get it when you read it in front of class. I'll make sure there's not any big words you don't understand.”

He paused thoughtfully. “I better not get in trouble.”

“Do you really care?”

“I don't want her to tell Uncle Peter I'm doing badly. He might pull me out.”

“You won't be reading anything bad, but if she comes down on you just tell her you'd never seen it before and thought it unprofessional to just stop. It'll be half-true.”

“Okay, I'm convinced. You still owe me.”

“No, I don't.”

“I'll pretend you owe me.”

“Goodnight.” Von went back to his room.

xXxXx

Von wasn't the only one whose parents had decided to not put in an appearance and that did make him feel slightly better about the situation. Avalon's were there, though, and she was quick to introduce him to her mother and sisters as he'd already met her father.

“Hi, Von,” her mother greeted him warmly. “I’m Marilyn, Avalon’s mother. It’s very nice to finally meet you, she’s told us so much about you.”

“Has she?” he shifted uncomfortably in his desk, both his hands finding their way to his pockets.

“Hi,” said the tall girl with dark hair and sharp features much like her father, though she shared Avalon’s emerald eyes. “I’m Gwen.”

“I’m Athena,” the shorter one replied. She was pale, almost a replica of their mother save for her father’s dark eyes.

Avalon went on to tell them all about their other classmates. Evan's uncle had yet to arrive. Apparently his flight had been delayed and wouldn't be arriving for a couple more hours; Evan was clearly disappointed and gave a half-hearted performance as the villainous teacher in his groups skit.

But Von got his wish. They went last.

“We need a volunteer to do the narration,” Hunter said as the trio came to the front of the class. Several of the kids raised their hands but he chose Evan as Von had instructed him to. Mrs. Sumarly had placed her desk on one side of the room and the podium on the other. The space between them was their designated stage.

Evan's eyes scanned the first page as they moved two of the desks into place and Von signaled when they were ready, with him and Lena taking their seats.

“Allister Academy,” Evan read aloud. “A place of knowledge and education. Of friendships and romance. Where your dreams can become reality.” His voice lowered. “And your nightmares.”

“I'm through with your games, Lena,” Von began in a stern and angry tone. “You need to decide. Before things get...ugly.”

“I've told you how I feel, Von,” she told him. “But Hunter just won't take no for an answer.” Her lines were delivered dramatically with a frantic waving of her hands. She overacted everything and he'd warned her about that during rehearsal. Too late to do anything about it now.

“Be firm with him.”

“I don't want to hurt him!” she whined.

“Someone's going to get hurt no matter what you do. And you're the one who gets to decide who it's gonna be. I'm not going to wait around forever. I'm going to fencing practice.” Standing, he exited the “stage” hastily.

Lena banged her head on the desk. “Oh, I'm so confused!” she wailed. “Von's so smart and romantic, and Hunter's so sweet, but he can be such a jerk.” She looked to the ceiling for answers. “What am I supposed to do?”

Hunter entered the scene, walking fast, his stride full of confidence. He dropped himself into the seat Von had vacated, pulling the old routine of pretending to stretch to get his arm around the girl. She flinched visibly at his touch. Such bad acting.

She shook him off. “We need to talk.”

“How about we talk later?” he grinned.

“No. Now. I already told you this isn't working.”

Von leaned back against the wall to “stage left” beyond Mrs. Sumarly's desk, watching with disinterest as she yelled at him, playing with the fencing sword they'd borrowed from one of the girls in Lena's dorm. He'd debated the fact that it wouldn't kill anyone with Lena to no avail. So a fencing sword it was. It didn't matter. It was just a dumb play.

“We've only been together a month,” Hunter soothed. “Give us time, babe.”

Standing, she growled, “I sick of you calling me babe! I'm sick of you barging into my dorm whenever you feel like it, like you own me. Maybe it's only been one month, but that was long enough for me to know it's not right.”

“How dare you, you little minx!” he yelled, coming to his feet and grabbing her roughly by the arm. “I love you! That's enough!”

Not even a two year old would've believed his badly delivered line, but the class seemed taken by their performance. It was his cue. He pretended to storm into the room, gripping the sword tight at his side.

“She's mine, nerd. Go find some other chick to bother.”

“You let go of her or I will hurt you,” Von told him evenly.

“Hurt him! He's breaking my arm!” Lena cried.

And you said you didn't want to hurt him. He tried not to laugh. He stabbed the sword at the freckled boy, where Hunter caught it with his arm at an angle the audience couldn't quite see, as they're rehearsed. “You're scum.”

“This isn't over,” he said weakly as he collapsed tot he ground, clutching the sword. “This isn't over by a longshot!”

“Wow,” Lena said. “You killed him for me,” she laughed. “You're definitely number one in my book now.”

He definitely remembered cutting that line.

“But what if you're caught?”

“Come, my love,” Von told her, taking her hand as he pulled the sword from Hunter's “corpse.” He grabbed the boy by his wrists and Lena pulled from his ankles and together they dragged him behind Mrs. Sumarly's desk where they acted as though they were burying.

“Now we can finally be happy,” Lena beamed. Joining hands, they ran off the set stage together.

“Brains...” croaked the gravelly voice from behind the desk. “Vengeance...” Hunter stumbled to his feet, repeating the same two words as he meandered off to the opposite side.

They sat for the last scene with a picnic basket filled with cellophane-wrapped leftovers from breakfast. As Von set them out Lena breathed, “Now we can finally have a date in peace.”

Hunter appeared one last time with his grand appearance. “Vengeance!” he yelled, running for them, pushing them both to the floor and pretending to eat their brains. With his face out of site he covered it with ketchup from the bottle they'd held in the picnic basket. “Mmmm...brains...” he said, turning back to the audience. He picked up the plat with the wrapped waffle then searched through the basket. “Syrup!” he cried, standing. “Syrup!”

He had written an epilogue to go at the end, but Evan was too busy trying to not to laugh to read it. The three stood before the class. Hunter bowed. Some of the parents clapped, including the Lake's.

Finally it was over.

Mrs. Sumarly stood in the back of the room calmly. “Mr. Crowley,” she addressed him alone in that tone she saved just for him. “How does that in any way correlate with the assignment you were given?”

“We took a normal situation that Lena, herself, has claimed to be in, and put an interesting spin on it.”

“An impossible spin.”

He didn't blink, staring her in the eye. “Principal McKittrick told us on the first day at orientation that nothing is impossible. How can you denounce that?”

“Have a seat, Von.”

A couple heads of parents turned in his direction with recognition. Odd. Did they know or have heard of his father. Must have. Crowley wasn't such an uncommon name; but Von was. Or rather, Vaan.

He took his seat.

xXxXx

To his immense surprise he wasn't given detention or even asked to to stay after. Grateful, he scurried to the library to hide while everyone gathered to watch that stupid football game. He didn't want to chance running into Evan and his famous uncle. Von wasn't sure why but he had no desire to meet the man. Maybe because it would make Evan more real to him. Stupid notion when you thought about it. He'd never been close to any other child and Evan was the first person to make a dent in the wrought-iron cage he'd built around himself.

The library was sure to be the second place Evan would look for him but the building was three stories high with hundreds of shelves and dozens of alcoves riddled with computer terminals and study desks. It would take Evan all day to find him in there. And though Evan might be stubborn enough to spend all day trying to find him, he doubted the uncle was.

He settled himself into the very back alcove of the third floor with three books to read. English was the only class he didn't have an A in due to Mrs. Sumarly's biased grading scale and was hoping to push his B up with the extra credit of having read every single book on the sixth grade reading list. English was really a very stupid subject, he mused. No wonder his father hadn't taught him anything of it other than how to read.

Von had never read much fiction before now. His mother held a large collection of romance novels that looked entirely unappealing and his father library was full of reference books and science journals. When he'd been ill earlier that year he'd been given several old classics by Rosemary, who until last March had been his family's cook; she had been there longer than even Monty. Devouring them in a week, he had fallen in love with the freedom of fiction. Anything could happen in them. Absolutely anything!

But he found himself growing bored with reading. Not every book was interesting. He decided to try to come up with a story to frighten Evan with if the blond truly intended to go through with his asinine idea to tell scary stories in the cemetery. It shouldn't be too hard.

Hours later he stood at a terminal researching books about scary stories and felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. Whirling around he stared into bright green eyes.

“What are you doing in the library all by yourself?” Avalon asked. Leave it to her to find him when he was hiding.

“Reading. Did you follow me?”

She smiled. “I saw you from the first floor. I looked up and there you were. I thought it was you, anyway. And I was right. We were showing this place to Mom. So where are your parents?”

“Not here.”

“Oh.” She closed the search screen for him. “Come with me, Von.” she told him, beginning to gather his things together from the table.

“What are you doing? I’m working.”

“On what? We didn’t get any homework.”

“It’s extra credit.”

She let out a groan and through the text and notebook into his bag. “Just come on.”

“Why?”

“Never argue with a woman,” she said sternly. “Come on.”

Annoyed, but not angry enough to protest, Von stood and followed her, flinging his backpack over his shoulder. There was something about Avalon that kept him from treating her how he did others. Maybe because she was just too nice.

“You missed the crowning of the Queen,” she told him as they descended the stairs.

“Who won?”

“Hailey Mason.”

The one Evan liked.

He toured the grounds with her family, trailing behind them next to Avalon. Gwen had gone on to her friends dorm to get ready for the dance that night, being that she was old enough, and Athena was very keen to explore the campus in the dark, pleading with her mother they go to the dance as well and ruin Gwennie's good time.

“You'd think they wouldn't have Parent's Weekend the same weekend as Homecoming,” Avalon told him.

He shrugged. The weather was turning colder and he zipped his jacket to keep warm.

They finally made it back to the building Mr. Lake's office was in and he asked, “Do you girls want to stay for the banquet or go out to eat?”

“Out to eat!” Athena yelled.

“I want to go to the banquet,” Avalon moaned.

“You can stay next year, Avalon,” her sister told her. “And by then you won't want to.”

Avalon cam back to his side. “And what about Von? He doesn't have any family here to eat with. We can't leave him all alone!”

“I'm fine.”

“He can come with us,” Mr. Lake suggested. “Come on. There's a good pizza place down in Carver.” Carver was the next down over.

“Thanks, but I should get back to my schoolwork,” he told them politely. “I have a lot left to do.” He still had his bookbag with him. It was starting to feel heavy.

“No, come with us! Don't leave me alone with them. I need intelligent conversation.”

Her family thought that was funny.

And an hour later he found himself being served pizza with the Lakes.

“So what do you like to do, Von?” Marilyn asked, her kind smile obscured by the pizza set high on the tray.

“I like to read.”

“He’s good at writing,” Avalon announced, taking a gulp of her soda. She’d settled for a plain Coke after discovering to her immense dismay they didn’t serve Vanilla Coke; her favorite.

“What do you write?“

He shrugged and Avalon again answered for him. No need to talk when he had her around.

“All kinds of stuff. Mostly for Mrs. Sumarly’s class. My favorite is this one about an alien who was playing a joke on humans by making a bunch of weird prophecies and then the humans made them come true.”

“Avalon, I think he can talk for himself.”

“Von doesn’t care. He doesn’t like to talk, do you?”

Shaking his head, he was content to play with the jar of parmesan cheese. He hadn’t had pizza in years.

“See, Mom? He makes a lot of them rhyme, too. Like crazy poems.” She turned back towards him. “Why do you do that?”

Shrugging once more, he replied, “I don’t know. I guess to make them sound more like nursery rhymes. It sounds more sadistic that way. I don‘t like reading in front of the class, and as long as I write stuff like that she won‘t make me.”

Andrew laughed, reaching for another slice. “Figured that out already? You’re a lot like your father.”

He peered up at him with interest. “Do you know him?”

“I did a little. I went to Allister, too. He was two years behind me. We weren't really in the same crowd but we knew each other. Always knew he'd go places. “

“What was he like?” he couldn't help but ask.

Andrew held his gaze. “A lot like you. Quiet. Introverted. He was brilliant, though. Constantly corrected the teachers. And he was always especially interested in science.”

“That's what I want to do,” he confessed. “Biochemistry like he did. He taught me a lot about his work.”

“Can I have the cheese, Von?” Athena asked, grabbing it from his hands where he'd been playing with the rim. He'd forgotten he still held it in his hand.

“You don't want to be a writer?” Avalon asked, her mouth full of pizza.

“That's just for fun.”

“Oh.” She seemed disappointed. “But if you ever do write a book I”ll read it.”

“How's your mother?” Andrew asked him.

Trying not to sound defensive, Von replied, “Did you know her, too?”

“We met once.”

“She's fine. A little stressed.” The man must've known of his father's current situation.

“Understandable. Give her my regards,” he told him with a comforting smile.

“I will.”

xXxXx

Avalon's family was so completely unlike his, he mused as he lay beneath the covers that night. With the three girls they tended to be very loud.

Marilyn Lake looked how a mother should look. Round faced and smiling. So unlike his mother who spent so much time unhappy.

Usually when she drifted through his mind he forced away every thought, distracting himself with schoolwork, but tonight he didn't.

Was she okay without him? Was Monty taking proper care of her?

Almost like a distant memory she seemed. Like home was nothing but an irrelevant thought cemented in the past. Something that had happened long ago. But that was such a ridiculous idea. He'd been gone only a month and a half! He could still hear her voice. Still see her blue eyes.

He pulled the blanket over his head. He didn't want to think about it anymore.