Chapter 2 - Leon Walden

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Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant, filled with odd waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don't always like.

---~Lemony Snicket

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ublished under Summit Media PopFiction
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Chapter 2 - Leon Walden

Detention was uneventful. No need to say that it was such a colossal waste of time. I mean I could be doing my Biology report by now, or better yet try to catch up on my Geometry in which I pretty much suck at.

Not to mention that I had to miss a crucial meeting in chess club. Duh. Even detention was better than chess club meetings. Surely, I'd hear tomorrow from Ricky Burns, chess club president tomorrow first thing in the morning about my unprecedented absence. I should remember to think of an alibi so Ricky Burns, chess club president wouldn't make a big fuss about it all day.

It was a good thing Leonard Dunn was seated very far away from me. Or else, there might've been a round two.

What a relief!

But he kept glancing at me every now and then when he thought I was unaware. His face was as bemused as ever, though I could almost hear a voice at the back of my mind saying that he was smirking behind those thick glasses.

The two long, tedious hours ended calmly. Except for those jocks at the back.

I was making my way to my locker after being shoved into the hallway by someone whom I did not dare look at, when I heard shuffling noises at the rear of the next corridor. I listened closer when I thought I was imagining it since the place was almost deserted.

There were hushed voices but I did not dare look either. I edged my way to a corner, intent on listening, making sure I wasn't discovered but I could not make out what they are talking about. From what I can hear, there could be three people, maybe more; a woman and two male voices.

Slowly, I took a peek less than a foot from the turn to the hallway and caught glimpse of the three. I didn't know what came over me. I typically don't meddle with other people's business or I simply just don't care. But I did it anyway.

There he stood. Leonard Dunn seemed to be arguing with a tall man, clad in tight gray suit paired with a black tie with red polka dots on it, like Ronald McDonald about to head to his day job as a pencil-pusher. The man shook his head disappointedly and wiped the sweat off his creased forehead.

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