Different and Cool (2017)

Thursday

D&C

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*****
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THURSDAY

The sports field was filled with a variety of athletic accomplishment and daring dexterity, courtesy of the many fine athletes. The cheerleaders, too, had arrived, doing some rather impressive flips and spins in their routines. A few of the boys had appeared from out of the woodwork to peek at said cheerleaders, thinking their spot under the bleachers somehow made them invisible.

Two boys weren't feeling up to the danger.

"Detention..." Justin growled, leaning his back on the fence.

"For two weeks," Slick finished up, making a whistling sound.

They both sighed into the breezy air, as if older than their young age.

Their stunt on Wednesday had not gone unnoticed by the faculty. The girls had immediately told the gym teacher about the plot, conveniently leaving out the part about their watery revenge. The teacher was suitably ticked, and had sent them up to the principal's office on the spot. The principal, too, was peeved, and thus the long-term punishment.

"Free-will..." Justin began, putting his hand on his cheek.

"...Is not what it used to be." Slick completed the sentence, shaking his head in mock-disappointment.

"Well, at least you have something to write about," Andy joined in, sipping a cola. "I'm still only halfway done with mine."

"Because you couldn't talk to Mari," Justin said, a note of disgust creeping into his voice.

Andy's face fell. "I wish you wouldn't bring that up," he complained, putting one of his hands into his pocket. "It's not like I didn't try."

Slick tsked, his face a mockery of disapproval. "Andy, Andy, Andy," he taunted, waving his finger back and forth. "Can't you try not bein' a wuss, just for fun?"

"Heh, Andy not being a wuss is like Tarah not being a dork." Justin sneered, his mouth becoming sharp and craggy. "Totally impossible."

The two laughed uproariously, their earlier fatigue vanishing away. Andy groaned unhappily at another laugh at his expense. It seems that whenever he had a pleasant experience, it was balanced with more problems. He was beginning to feel like some lovable loser from a comic strip.

And something about the way they mentioned Tarah triggered a vibe within him. He didn't know why.

Eventually, the mirth died down, and the threesome resumed lazing about on the fence. Justin quickly turned to Slick with a 'gimme' expression. "Limestone, you got any smokes?" he asked, holding out his hand.

"Just a sec," Slick said, rummaging through his backpack for said item. A moment later, he came up with two packs of Morvarian Unfiltered. "Got them from my cousin in Morvaria City," he added, handing one of them to his silver-haired friend.

"Looks like there's some girl's phone number on the back." Justin squinted at the writing on the cigarette pack. "Family trait, Limestone?"

"You can't smoke those here, you know," Andy piped up, a flash of goody-goodyness rising within him.

"No one's gonna notice us, Champion," Justin argued, reaching into his jacket pocket for a lighter. "The track supervisor's an idiot."

Seemingly determined to ignore any more criticisms, he turned away from Andy to tend to his tobacco. In a second, he had the smoke lit, ready, and placed between his lips. But before he could take his first puff, Slick interrupted him with an urgent notice. "Yo, someone's comin'. Douse it!"

"Andrew, Andrew!" a light voice called out continually from the black top, amplifying every second.

Justin looked back and forth, as if caught in the act. But soon, his face regained its original lame candor. "Feh, it's just Reichardt."

"R-reichardt?" Andy squeaked, shrinking into himself.

Sure enough, Tarah was bobbing towards them, her pigtails bouncing excitedly on the sides of her head. In her arms was a writing tablet and a pencil, looking like they were about to fly out of her hands at any moment. With a small skid, she arrived at the trio's little spot under the sun. Sweat was clinging to her glasses, and her face was red and beaming.

Andy's face was probably redder.

"Andrew, I just thought of a few new things for our free-will assignment!" the girl said enthusiastically, pumping her fists. "A test to see whether locusts or blister beetles are more proactive!"

"Buzz off, Reichardt," Justin hissed, bringing the cigarette back to his lips. "We're busy."

"But I need to hurry and get him before the bugs get their afternoon snack!" she babbled, almost bouncing up and down. She took a closer look at the cigarette. "Those things are bad for your health, you know," she commented, pointing it out.

"Thank you, Surgeon General Tarah," Slick sang out in a mock-announcer's voice. Justin chuckled a couple of times at this, accidentally hacking up some smoke in the process.

Tarah looked a little bothered, but quickly puffed back up. "I mean it!" she insisted. "Studies show that you can get lung cancer as early as thirty if you keep smoking." She turned back towards the green-haired boy. "Andrew, can we go?" she asked, her eyes imploring him behind the glasses.

"I...um..." Andy stammered at this request, completely panicking at what to do. Talking to Tarah in his own house was one thing; talking to her in front of his friends was something else. Sweatdrops rolled off his temple as he envisioned one embarrassing scenario after another. If Justin and Slick knew that she had kissed him back at the house...

In the end, it was all taken out of his hands. "Whatcha got there, Tarah?" Slick said slyly, creeping up aside the girl and reaching for her notepad.

"Hey, stop!" Tarah said, shrugging away from the boy and hugging the pad close to her chest. "It's private!"

"Private, huh?" The blond boy pondered, slowly easing away from the pigtailed girl. Then, with a flick of his hand, he reached out and plucked the pad from her. "Public property if I ever saw it!" he crowed, holding the object above his head and laughing insanely.

"Give it back!" she cried out desperately, trying to reach for it by standing on tiptoe.

Slick was a lanky young teen, so her attempts were to no avail; he just held it higher. Looking over to Justin, he started to wind back for a throw. "Go long, Justin!" he said, using his other arm to keep Tarah at bay.

He threw the notepad, a smooth toss that fell directly into Justin's waiting arms. Sparing not a moment, the other boy flipped through the tablet, until his narrow eyes widened with glee upon finding the latest entry. "Hey, listen to this," he snickered, his teeth glimmering in the early afternoon sun. "'Andrew's such a neato person. I hope that he likes me and my lizards.'"

"Oh, that's rich!" Slick hooted loudly. As Tarah dashed over to Justin, the notepad was thrown again, and the blond boy thumbed through the pages. "'I gave him a kiss that felt really nice?'" he read out loud in a shocked tone, looking like he had just seen brain surgery first-hand. "What did you do with that girl on Wednesday, Andy?"

"Stop it!" Tarah practically screamed, grabbing the sides of her head. Her face was flaming red, and a few tears were forming at the corner of her eyes.

Slick made a pouty face towards the girl, as if he were moved by her display of emotion. Then, he tossed the pad to the third person in his party. "Catch, Andy!" he called out, a lightning-bolt smile on his face.

Andy started a bit at this and, more by reflex than anything else, caught the pad in his forearms. Staring at it like it was a rune tablet, he was left at a loss for what do with it. Something rectified by the various voices calling out to him.

"C'mon, Champion, hurry up and toss it!"

"Andrew, please help me!"

"Read us another lovely entry, Andy-baby!"

Andy looked back and forth between the three teen faces; Justin's, teeth glistening like vampire fangs; Slick's, lucidity lost within rabid glee; Tarah's, a wad of teary confusion. His face erupted with a fresh wave of sweat, feeling more heat than even the hot sun could account for. The pad felt heavy in his hand, as did the responsibility he carried with it. So he did the first thing that came to mind:

He threw the pad.

And the game of keep away continued.

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*****
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Five minutes later, the sports field was a vacant wasteland of dirt, grass, and dust, looking like it had been abandoned for years. The equipment and balls had all been put away, and the athletes had gone inside to exercise their minds instead of their bodies. A wistful gust blew by, making a spectre-like howl through the soccer goal nets. Only a boy and girl remained to hear this howl, the latter hunched over a torn notepad, and the former standing over her like a silent witness.

"Tarah," Andy said quietly, moving closer towards the girl.

"Just go..." she whispered into the wind, closing tear-strained eyes heavily.

The boy moved a little bit closer.

"JUST GO!" Tarah screamed out, her fingers digging into the rough turf below her hands.

Andy stayed for a moment more, his face a mask of anguish and pain. Then, he took off for the school, leaving the pigtailed girl to tend to the broken spine of a book, as well as a broken heart.

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*****
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The winds had their way with the sturdy, hardwood trees, swaying their branches like they were only reeds. It roared and hurrahed through the leaves, sending many of them tearing off into the open air. The Champion residence whistled slightly with repeated gales, unable to completely resist Mother Nature's berating. It was a night of torment, a dawn of darkness that drove all to hide in their homes away from the bat-like flapping, desperately trying to compensate for their terror with hot cocoa and other warm treats.

Andy ignored the rattling of the windowpane beside him, though it sang like a wind chime. Rather, he barely heard it, so inwardly focused that he rejected anything outside of himself. His eyes were hardened almost into slits, twinkling with negative emotion. In his shaking hand was a chew-marked pencil; rather disgusting, since it was mechanical.

He had been sitting at the desk in his room for almost an hour now, long enough to grow slightly numb in his legs. But if you were to take a look at him, you could see that discomfort was the least of his worries. His back was hunched, like the long suffering writer trying to make good his or her latest story. Able to let the world go by without batting an eye, save to the misfortunes within their own heads.

After the incident, he saw no hint of Tarah Reichardt for the remainder of the day. Even when his eyes surreptitiously glanced over to the places she should've been, she wasn't there. Starlight Jr. High's energetic squabbling between classmates had become hollow and false to him. It was as if she had disappeared completely from his life, and had taken his life away with her.

Because...I threw her out of my life. With a shuddering breath, he put down his mangled pencil aside the lightning globe that still bore Tarah's fingerprints. Leaning back in his chair, he planted his feet on the ground to keep from falling over. With a hand on his forehead, and a troubled expression, he brooded over the past few days, a fourteen-year old boy in the guise of a philosopher.

He knew Tarah was the least-liked person in school, outside of any school bullies. Everyone hated her awkwardness, how she drowned in details and glowed for the insignificant. She could ramble on and on about the most trivial of subjects until you were ready to swat her like a gnat. Nothing more than a nuisance to be dealt with, and then forgotten as soon as possible.

All this, and she still didn't deserve the treatment he had given her. She had come to him seeking friendship, and he had thrown it back in her face with patented wishy-washy weakness. And wasn't it a far cry from his behavior yesterday? He might as well have told her he loved her up in that tree fort.

You sang with her, took her to your favorite place, and told her things you've never told anyone. Andy's eyes narrowed. ...what were you thinking? Of course she thought you were her friend.

But he hadn't been thinking. He had just taken her hand and run with her to the distant shores of imagination, regardless of reality. Walking straight through the yellow and black tape, ignoring the sounds of dangerous machinery. With those actions he had led her on. He had deceived her.

He had liked her.

No! His mind was screaming within the confines of his skull. She was supposed to be just the school geek! She's not a person, a friend, or any of that. She...she's...

He broke off from these painful thoughts with a gasp, desperately shaking his head free of the spiders that threatened to devour his mind. Slumping over on his desk, he struggled with his own consciousness, bearing it as a twenty-ton weight. His eye fell upon his half-completed report, mere scribbles on a page of notebook paper. With wide, fearful eyes, he began to read from it, and was promptly disgusted by the words that came from his own mind.

/In the end, I decided that there was no such thing as free-will. People are easily forced into action by things, and then forced again just as easily into a different action by other things. We fool ourselves that we have control in order to keep on living. But we are powerless to do anything outside of Fate./

With trembling hands, he held the paper in front of him, running over the lines again. His vision blurred further with each time he re-read them, and hatred grew. That's why he was now crumpling up the manuscript into a wad and tossing it to the side. That's why he was smacking his lightning globe off the desk and onto the floor, shattering into sparks, wires, and a million pieces of broken glass.

A moment later, quick footfalls were heard tromping up the stairs, as if in emergency. The door knob shook repeatedly, the person behind it obviously struggling with their own vigor. Swinging it open, Uncle Noah burst into the room, looking for all the world like a firefighter who had just axed his way in. "What the devil's going on here?" he demanded, probably more out of fear than anything else.

And all he saw was a boy with his head in his hands, shaking with insurmountable grief and looking like his best friend had just died.

"Andy, what are you doing?" Noah asked, his tone lightening up slightly. "Why is everything a mess?"

"Andy!" Mary cried, peeking in through the door frame and looking like she was near tears herself. "Oh, Andy!"

"G-grandpa...w-was right..." the boy stammered through his sobs, snorting loudly and wetly. "I...can't d-do anything...no such t-thing as free-will...I can't do ANYTHING!"

"Andy, what are you talking about?" Noah persisted, trying to bring him back on track. "You're not making sense."

"T-tarah's gone," Andy blubbered, his face hot with shame and defeat. "I g-got ridda her. Justin and Slick, they m-made me...didn't w-want to...I hate my friends!"

"That's enough, dear," Mary said sternly, placing a hand on her husband's shoulder. Scooting beside him, she made her way over to the boy's chair, where he was still hunched over the desk. Placing her arms around his shoulders, she leaned her head against his trembling back. "Hush now, sweety," she whispered into his ear. "Everything will be alright."

Andy didn't think he was in any state to believe her words. But slowly, his hand moved upwards to grip the woman's meaty arm, clutching it and bringing it closer to his chest like a good luck charm.

"You've really been struggling with this project, haven't you," she whispered, closing her eyes. "Perhaps you could use a break?"

He nodded weakly, his eyes still hot with salt water.

As the aunt and nephew sat in silence in the middle of the room, Noah stood stiffly in the doorway, watching them. He turned away and began walking to the window, looking out through the not-so-distant winds surrounding the house. The trees were still shaking with its fury, pleading for the rampage to stop. "Damn, but it's a rough night," he rumbled to the gusty night, his face screwing up into a stoic scowl.

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*****
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The karaoke bar maintained a lively atmosphere, even at such a late hour. All throughout the small establishment, people of all ages were jammed into the seats, staring at the spotlighted stage where a lone woman warbled Fred Sonata's "Send Me to the Sun" into the standup mike.

Andy and his family struggled to maneuver around the claustrophobic arrangement of chairs and booths, trying not to jostle anybody en route. The crowd swam around them like lukewarm coffee, creating the illusion that they would have to dogpaddle their way to their seats. The boy found the noise a stark contrast to his own tormented thoughts, and he could feel his anger and self-loathing taking a back seat to the strangely relaxing tune. He could now analyze his own situation without falling prey to it.

When everything had calmed down at home, Aunt Mary and Uncle Noah asked if there was anything they could do to make him feel better. Still rather weepy, Andy had suggested the karaoke bar, much like a child wanting an ice-cream after a harrowing ordeal. Looking back, he felt slightly ashamed in having them cater to his own weaknesses. Still, the Champion family had piled into the family Joltswagon and headed out in the rain to the small bar fifteen minutes away.

"Busy night," Noah said lightly, lifting his arm to avoid clocking an elder gentlemen in the head.

"I suppose everyone wants to drown their sorrows in music tonight," Mary pondered, following right behind him.

Andy put his hand to his chin, his vision growing slightly unfocused. Why had he chosen to rejuvenate himself with the very pastime he had enjoyed with Tarah only a night ago? Wasn't that just twisting the knife he had stabbed himself with earlier today? And yet, he felt a pull towards the karaoke bar, and knew this is what he really wanted to do right now.

They had reached their table, and everyone sat down in the semi-circular booth. Andy, Mary, and Noah did their best to get comfortable in the rough leather seat, all of them slouching back and putting their arms on the head rest. A moment later, a waitress put three glasses of water on coasters bearing the establishment's insignia. They drank lightly, letting its crisp sting envelop their tongues and wake them up.

A modest show of hands began clapping, and Andy turned his head back towards the stage. The song had ended, and the singer was retreating back to her seat, leaving the mike free for the next performer. A man wearing a blue sports coat and a rug on his head moved up to the standing mike. "Well, that was 'Send Me to the Sun" by Fred Sonata,'" he spoke to the small audience. "Next up, we have a young man who's making his first appearance here in three years: Andrew Champion!"

Some polite clapping sounded out through the karaoke bar. "That's you, dear," Mary whispered to the boy, nudging him with her elbow.

"Show 'em what the Champion house can do!" Noah bellowed, punching his nephew lightly on the arm.

Andy nodded, and left his drink to stand up and ease his way out of the booth. Steadily, he made his way through the tables towards the small stage. The eyes of the crowd were rather disconcerting, as they seemed to be watching his every move, ready to deliver divine judgment. But he just ignored his nervousness and proceeded towards the microphone, with the announcer stepping aside and leaving him to it.

Standing alone on the stage, Andy took a moment to catch his breath and relax. He hummed a few bars to himself, trying to make sure he still knew how to adjust his pitch. He looked out furtively to the people in the crowd, most of which had rather skeptical faces (they didn't seem to care for the last performer). But he caught the thumbs up Mary and Noah tossed him, and most of his fears were put to rest.

A moment later, the intro of the song began emanating from the speakers set up throughout the bar. It was a soft, slow tune, the kind that was popular ten years back and retained a following even today. Andy's face was now passive, a soft porcelain-like serenity to his features. Calmly, he dove into himself, bringing out one last piece of soul for his performance.

He could see her in his mind's eye, her memory glowing though the dusty haze of the room. She was crying, turning away from him. But Andy couldn't forget her clear blue eyes or her passion for life. There was a promise there, a journey into a new world, the mystery of a smile waiting to be solved.

Tarah...

And then, he began to sing.

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*****
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Andy leaned against the wood paneling, his arms crossed against his chest and his eyes half-closed. Somewhat lethargically, he turned his head towards the stage, squinting from the multicolored lights hanging overhead. Aunt Mary and Uncle Noah were singing a duet, an old timey song that only the older generation really appreciated. The crowd seemed to enjoy this as much as Andy's own song, though.

He had done well on stage, he considered. The crowd had enjoyed what he had put into his singing, and he had won them over two-fold. Many of the spectators had given him a bit of congratulations or a slap on the back, which he politely accepted with a smile. It did feel good knowing that something he did actually had a positive effect on people.

He sighed lightly, leaning his head down and closing his eyes. Ultimately, it really didn't matter what the crowd thought of his song. It was just something he had to get out, like a soap-box speech at an assembly. Whether they liked him or hated him, the boy could feel a new spark of life buzzing in his stomach, just like the butterflies Tarah loved so much.

Andy finished this thought with a small smile, then lowered his head and closed his eyes, letting the music take him away to a different place. The melodies and chords drifted like fish down a winding river, caught and filleted by his ears for his personal enjoyment.

A moment later, a voice broke through the clouds that had settled over his mind. "Hey, didn't expect to see you here!" it cried, strong yet feminine. "Andy, right?"

The boy's arm hairs stood on end as his subconscious recalled the voice. Quickly, he woke up to the world and took a look at his present company. "Maru Mari!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening like saucers at a five-star restaurant.

The forest-maned girl giggled, folding her arms. "That's me!" she said cheerfully, smiling.

The noises of the crowd moved around them lazily. "W-what are you doing here?" Andy asked, feeling a bit of unworthiness overtake him.

"I started coming here about two years ago, when I first moved here from Aviania," she explained, gesturing with her hands for emphasis. "I actually want to sing for a living, so I like to get in some practice in front of a live audience whenever I can."

"Oh," Andy said dumbly, his facial expression something in-between entranced and embalmed. The two stood in silence for a moment more, the train of conversation reaching a twist in the rails. Determined to keep the stacks puffing, he racked his mind for something to say. "Um, I just sing for my own sake," he tried, smiling nervously and trying not to choke.

"Probably the best reason to sing there is," Mari responded, her face beaming, and Andy smiled back. Her easy going attitude was infectious; Andy felt more comfortable with his crush than ever before, and a sliver of an idea was starting to scrape against his rib cage.

"So, what made you come out tonight?" she asked. "The announcer guy said Andrew Champion hadn't been here in three years."

At that, the boy turned his gaze towards the floor, his smile waning slightly. "I had some things I wanted to get off my chest," he admitted, somber as an old man. "Singing seemed to be the best way to do it."

The idea he was grappling with rose into his gullet and gnawed at the back of his throat like a sparking spitfire. Mari was his most important crush, and was proving to be both smart and pretty. Maybe she would... "You...you know Tarah Reichardt, right?" Andy asked tentatively, his eyes widening reflexively with the emotionally dangerous conversation he was beginning.

"Tarah?" Mari's face knotted up for a brief moment. "Yeah, she actually tutors me sometimes in biology. I sort of suck at it." She put a hand to her chin thoughtfully, frowning. "She was actually really depressed today, and didn't even talk my ear off about the joy of different types of chlorophyll."

Andy regarded Mari's words with a saddened expression, melancholy overpowering his nervousness. "So she's not okay, huh...?" he said quietly, more to himself than to the girl in front of him.

"Doesn't seem like it," she affirmed, grimacing slightly. Suddenly, her eyes widened. "Wait a sec, Champ, all this is about Tarah?" Mari questioned him, looking like she just fit a jigsaw piece into place. "Something happen between you two?"

The boy hesitated, wondering whether he should back out of this conversation. And yet, he was in over his head no matter what; he clung to his faith in Mari like a life preserver. "It was Professor Clark's free-will exercise," he admitted finally, closing his eyes with a mix of slight embarrassment at having such fun with a nerd, and heavy embarrassment for his failure. "We were at my house, and it ended with us...having a lot of fun." He peered at her through half-slitted eyes. "What should I do?"

"What do you want to do?" Mari pressed.

Andy's resolve was quickly tumbling forward as if running downhill, and the admission fell out of his mouth before he could stop it. "Well, be her friend." As the words left his lips, he quickly looked away and touched them, as if he couldn't believe that he was actually saying all this, how reckless he had become.

Mari was smiling gently at him, her eyes twinkling with a strange mixture of pride and mirth. "I think I gotcha," she said, gripping her waist. "You really want to make it up to the kid, but you don't know if you can do it if nobody approves. So you're talking to me, hoping that I'll give you reassurance and tell you what you want to hear. I gotta tell ya; I like an opportunist."

"Opportunist..." The boy jolted a bit, the implication of her words hitting him like a caffeinated drink poured over his head. How did I get so transparent?

She laughed gaily, a much kinder sound than the jeers of Justin and Slick. "You don't need it, Andy," she said, shaking her head. "You don't need anybody's permission to do what you want to do. Just go do it, go get that nerd girl of yours. Do it just like how you came and talked to me."

Andy sighed, feeling slightly unraveled by Mari's acute perception. "I guess it's just a little hard or something," he admitted with a slight blush, peering off to the side.

"Free-will doesn't make every decision easy," she stated matter-of-factly. "It's not supposed to be easy, anyway. You've got to apply yourself in this world if you want something in it. That's what I believe."

Andy looked at her, detecting something familiar in her words. "Did you hear about Mr. Clark's project?" he asked.

Mari smiled, lowering her head so that her bangs formed a curtain over her eyes. "I don't get all that junk in that class about free-will vs. determinism," she said. "Everything we do is a decision, big and small, easy or hard. You're responsible for every mistake, and every victory. Once you know that, you can do anything."

The long-tressed lass leaned against the same wall Andy was stationed at, looking up at the twinkling lights above. "So what I do is to take every day as a new opportunity for me to express myself," she said, a slow smile flowing to her lips. "I think about all that I can accomplish before the sun goes down, and it gives me energy that way. I mean, life's never boring that way." She turned towards the boy with a smile. "Right?"

Andy stared at the girl, transfixed by more than her outer beauty. The words struck a special place in his heart; it was simple common sense he always knew deep down inside, but now he could finally say it to himself. Suddenly, he felt a tremendous strength developing from within, along with an almost giddy feeling. "Yeah, that's sounds real good," he said, as if the idea was still dawning within him.

He straightened up. "Yeah!" he cried out, clenching a fist dramatically. "I'll just try a little harder!" Andy turned towards Mari and grabbed her hands. "Thanks a lot!" he told her, shaking them as if offering a presidential accolade.

"Uh, yeah!" she stammered, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of her face.

Their hands remained tied together for a moment more. Then, upon realizing what he was doing, the boy suddenly let go of her hands. "Uh, sorry," he said nervously, putting his hands behind his back.

"It's alright," Mari responded, looking a little bit embarrassed herself.

"Andy, time to go," a soft voice spoke out from the other end of the karaoke bar.

Andy turned to see his aunt and uncle at the front door, looking like they were about to step outside. "Uh, looks like my ride is about to go," he said with a chuckle. "Sorry..."

"Well, I'm probably going to get called soon anyway," she said, looking over to the empty stage. "See ya later!"

The boy nodded briefly, then started to walk on over to his family, leaving her behind. Then, he stopped and whirled around. "Mari!" he suddenly called out, struggling to keep his voice clear.

Mari blinked. "What is it?" she asked, her face clueless and innocent.

"...Alright if we have...talks like this more often?" he asked her, ignoring the blush that came to his face. "Yeah, I know you said I don't need anybody to tell me what's right and stuff, but...can we just talk sometime?"

The girl stood with a blank expression on her face, but Andy held steadfast, despite feeling like he had blown it. And soon, she broke out her honest smile once again. "Sure," she answered, nodding her head.

Andy's grin was like the Cheshire Cat's. With happiness in his heart, he strolled on through the crowd, who were already cheering for the next performer. Meeting up with Mary and Noah, he walked with them to the door, swinging it open and letting an aftershower air blast into the establishment. "Hey Uncle Noah, can we stop by one more place before we go home...?" he asked as they left the karaoke bar for the twilight town outside.

He had been crawling through the gutters just a scant few hours ago, and somehow he had bounced out of it like a pinball into the high score zone. He was on a roll, and the only thing to do was to keep on rolling. I can choose who I want in my life. I can choose my own destiny. Andy's eyes erupted with a serpentine fire. I'm still in this fight!

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*****
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It was a small dwarf of a house, a one-story dwelling typical of this part of the neighborhood. Andy's own house was two stories; though only a three-minute drive away, there was a marked difference between his side of the neighborhood and hers. An elegant, baby ash tree livened up the front yard, giving the humble Reichardt residence a fantastical look. Between the unfamiliar setting, and the fact that he had never dared visit before tonight, Tarah's house made him feel a stranger in a strange land, and there was no stopping the skips in his heart.

The engine of the Joltswagon rumbled behind him, and he turned to find Aunt Mary leaning out the window. "Andy, are you sure you're going to be alright out here?" she asked, a look of maternal concern washing over her features. "You want us to wait a little while for you?"

Andy shook the cobwebs out of his head; he had been standing out here in the cold for two minutes. "I'm fine," Andy said, forcing some resolution into his voice. "I'll call you when we're done, okay?"

Mary smiled, and reached into the backseat. "Don't forget your notes, now!" she told him, a sparkle of mirth dancing in her eye as she handed the four pages of work Tarah and he had done on the free-will project. "You don't want to start from scratch, my little philosopher!"

"It's barely enough to count as notes." Andy relaxed a bit as he took the proffered pages with a smile. "Thanks."

"We're wasting gas," Uncle Noah reminded them from the driver's side. "Go on, Andy!"

"Right, right," Andy said, turning back to the house, and his imminent conflict.

Leaving the family station-wagon behind, Andy proceeded down the cobblestone walkway leading to the front door, his feet splashing in the small puddles left over from the rainstorm. As he moved closer to Tarah's house, he felt the strange, unnatural sensation return, as if his every step took him further and further away from his niche with Justin and Slick. It was like a jaunt in the jungle, with a handful of schoolwork to serve as traveling gear. He reacted to these jitters with a clenched jaw, refusing to give into this intrinsic cowardice again.

Arriving at the door, his finger lanced out to the doorbell before more trepidation could set in. The chime was elegant and grand, more fitting for a manor-house than a neighborhood hovel. Again, nervousness attacked him, and he fought the urge to glance back at the Joltswagon, his only escape back to a Tarah-less lifestyle. Remembering Mari's words about free-will, he dug his heels into the welcome mat, as if gluing himself in front of the house.

Mercifully, a shadowy figure from beyond the curtains materialized to answer the bell. The door opened, and a thirty-something woman with youngish features greeted Andy, her long, blond hair twisting down her back in a braid. She stared down at Andy, her protuberant eyes fixated on his. "Can I help you?" she asked. placing her hand on her hip.

Andy's voice caught in his throat, and he gulped down a butterfly mouthful. "I...um, is this Tarah Reichardt's address?" he tried, truly hating how awkward the question came out.

"Oh, you must be Andrew, Tarah's classmate!" The woman smiled; a bright, openhearted grin resembling Tarah's own. "Did Tarah forget some schoolwork at your house last night?"

The boy regarded the papers containing the notes he took with Tarah. "Sort of," he answered, his experiences with Tarah entering his thoughts like a flood. "Can Tarah come out, please?"

Tarah's mother averted her eyes and put a hand to her chin. "She's kind of moody today," she said, more to herself than Andy. "When she came home this afternoon, she rushed immediately to her room and shut the door. She hasn't let me talk to her, but I think something happened."

Once more, unpleasant feelings arose in his heart; this time; it wasn't fear. "I know," he admitted, finding his voice amidst his shame. "I need to talk to her about that."

She looked down at him, a look of suspicion now on her face. Yet Andy's gaze, however remorseful, was firm, and his jaw was set in all seriousness. Seemingly understanding his intentions, the smile returned full-force. "Well, I'll see if she can come out for a chat!" she said, moving aside so that the boy could enter. "My name's Margaret. You should probably just call me by that."

Andy nodded to her, and walked through the doorway. On impulse, he took a look behind him, and saw Noah and Mary leaving the driveway and coasting down the street behind a host of trees. Turning back to the foyer, he found the Reichardt family heirlooms in front of him, cabinets containing many oddball ornaments like painted pinecones, glass insects, and small clay urns. Just like that, his old world was gone, and he was in Tarah's.

Before Andy could contemplate this further, Margaret walked down the hall a ways and called for her daughter. "Tarah, there's someone at the door for you!"

"Who is it, Mom?" a shrill, chirping voice answered. Andy's heart leapt in his throat at the familiar, eccentric wark.

"Andrew Champion!" the woman said. "From school!"

Margaret waited with Andy for an answer, tossing a quick apologetic look at the young lad. After a while, though, the silence became stark, and the two could hear the kit-cat clock on the wall clicking away the seconds. A minute more passed, and Margaret tried again. "Tarah?" she projected, putting a hand to her mouth. "It's your friend Andrew! Don't you want to see him?"

Again, she was met with silence, and Margaret turned towards Andy with a flash of concern. "I've never gotten this from Tarah before!" she breathed. "What happened with you two?"

Andy grit his teeth behind his lips, his eyebrows furrowing with determination. "I'm going in there," he told Tarah's mother, keeping his eyes locked on the hallway ahead.

As Margaret watched with a hand to her mouth, Andy proceeded through the cluttered house, blocking out everything else but that brief snippet of Tarah's voice. After several small turns, he reached a door with a cut-out of an exotic spider hanging on a nail by a string. He placed his hand on the knob, its slick, polished brass shocking him with a static spark. Taking one last deep breath, he opened the door, letting out a swath of bright light that hit him in the face like the radiance of the heavens.

The first thing he noticed was her ocean blue eyes, opening up like shutter-lenses behind her glasses. Her entire face was pale with shock, her lips trembling very slightly in a uncertain rhythm. Tarah's pigtails hung like ropes from a gallows, giving her a worn, somber appearance that was in contrast to the sprightly, overeager girl he had come to know. Wearing a pair of sweatpants and a light t-shirt, she was sprawled out on the bed and playing with a pet lizard she kept in a fish tank.

Andy and Tarah stared at each other a moment more. Then, Tarah turned away, her face unreadable as she resumed petting her lizard friend. He wasn't sure, but Andy thought he could see her stiffen a bit, as if preparing for a fierce blow. Her eyes were hidden now, the light from the ladybug lamp causing an eerie shine on the lenses of her glasses. She was in the room with him, and yet she was not, her inner emotions locked away in the depths of her heart.

Andy took a step forward, gathering up his nerve. "H-hi, Tarah," he started, his hand gripping the papers reflexively. "I came by to tell you...I'm really sorry about what I did with Justin and Slick. I wasn't thinking straight, and I didn't mean it. I just...can we make this right again?"

The girl's mouth tightened into a small line. "You really hurt me, you know," she said softly, closing the top of her fish tank in a deliberate motion.

Suddenly, Tarah turned on him with a savage expression. "How could you do that to me!?" she screamed, pure fury in her eyes as she sprang off the bed like a panther. "You treated me just like everyone else does! I thought you were my friend!" Her entire body was quaking as her voice lowered to a sorrowful croak, tears streaming down her cheeks. "But you're not..."

Andy's own eyes were starting to water, and on instinct, he reached out to touch her shoulder. She angrily shook him off, wiping her nose as she choked out another humiliated sob. Just like after the incident on the sports field, she wouldn't look at him, as if he were lower than the bugs and spiders she loved to research. Andy felt even lower than that.

He moved around to her side, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Tarah, I...I am your friend," he told her, leaning forward so that she couldn't break eye contact easily. "Joining in with those guys was stupid and cowardly, and I hate myself for it. I'll never hurt you like that again. I promise."

Andy turned away, his expression darkening. "And it wasn't just you I ran away from, either," he said as he began pacing about the room. "I've been going over things, and I think I've been running away for years. My friends, Justin and Slick, I mean, I just do what they do. This week was the first time I ever tried something different, something I wanted."

Tarah bit her lip, fidgeting in place. "All lifeforms follow patterns based on their biology and environment," she spoke hesitantly, as if reciting from a textbook. "It's the law of Nature."

Andy frowned, remembering similar words coming from her yesterday when they were working on their project. "You're wrong, Tarah," he told her. "We have so many possibilities for learning and growth. Even your nature programs show us this. I've seen instances where cats more or less raise dogs, like...an extended family."

Tarah's eyes widened, and she raised her head to stare at him willingly. "You watched Unusual Affinities on the Animal Channel," she gasped, a trace of wonder in her voice. "That's one of my favorite shows."

"Yeah." The smile shone off Andy's face like a gleaming apple. "I remember you talking about it in class one day."

A burst of inspiration hit him, and he shrugged off his green jacket. "This jacket I got, I bought it because it had Slick's favorite hockey team on it." he explained, holding the garment out for her to examine. "It was just so I could pretend to talk about sports with him. I don't even like hockey that much. I never knew what's going on the few times I watched it."

"Yeah, it's really violent too!" Tarah smiled, a beam of light in a dark cloud. "And the jacket doesn't match your hair."

Andy nodded, though he had never thought of the color clash before. "I can't do this anymore," he finished up, tossing the jacket away like an empty trash bag. "I've done it for three years, and I'm tired. I want to get to know myself, and I want to get to know you." He ran a hand through his shaggy mane, feeling self-conscious with all the speechifying. "W-what do you say?"

Tarah's voice was like a ghostly spirit. "That sounds cool, Andrew," she said, her smile warming her face like hot chocolate.

Andy smiled in kind, a burst of energy flowing through him. "Tarah, we still have our notes from last night," he continued, as she moved closer to him. "If we start working right now, we can probably..."

All further conversation was cut off as Tarah leapt upon him in a vice-like hug, knocking the pages from his hand. She clutched his forearms, her head nestled to the side of his neck. After a moment's pause, Andy's arms slowly found their way around the girl, feeling the gentle warmth from her back. Her entire frame built up and released a shuttering sigh; she felt featherweight, fairy-like.

"I knew you were different," she whispered into his ear, her breath heavy on his pale skin.

Andy closed his eyes, feeling his shoulders relax. The mind's mists were clearing up, and for the first time in years, he let himself feel the emotions he had buried deep within himself. In Tarah's arms, it was warm, the human contact three worlds away from the false fun-house he had been sharing with Justin and Slick. It was the real world, the world he remembered exploring with his mother, and the world where Tarah now waited for him in the sun of a new day.