Paper

The Festival

Oscar walked into his family's bookshop and saw his father putting away books in the fiction section. Mr. Gilbertson looked up from his work and turned at the sound of the bell ringing from the door swinging open.

"Hey dad," Oscar greeted him. "I'll be back for a little while."

Mr. Gilbertson smiled widely at his son. "How're you liking that new job of yours?" He asked as Oscar made his way toward the spiral staircase. The peach-haired boy let out a sigh. "I'd rather work here than with technology, but it's not horrible. Some of the people there are annoying, but it's not too bad anymore. I'm getting used to it."

His father picked up another book to put away. "I'm glad it's working out well enough for you," He said as Oscar headed up to the second floor. "Yeah, I guess I am too," The bookworm replied, about 50% of what he had said being a lie.

A few hours to myself without Jasmin... I never thought I'd get this lucky.

As he entered the kitchen, Mrs. Gilbertson lifted her eyes from a book that she was reading at the small set of table and chairs next to the large window. His mother smiled. "I'm happy you're back! It's been so quiet without you here," She said, standing up and heading to the kitchen counter.

Oscar sighed as he sat on a barstool, putting his head on top of him arms. "It's quiet if I'm here or not, mom."

His mother laughed lightly. "I suppose you're right. Anyway, how about I make you lunch? Will a tuna sandwich do?" She asked, opening a cupboard and pulling out a can of tuna. Oscar nodded. "Yeah, that'd be great, thanks."

Mrs. Gilbertson took out a loaf of bread, celery, and mayonnaise and started to make Oscar's sandwich.

"So, how's your friend doing? The tall handsome blonde?"

Oscar scowled. "Tch. He's not my friend. And he's annoying as ever," He muttered, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Mrs. Gilbertson began chopping celery. "Well, when he came over here to fetch you a while ago you didn't seem to hate him," She said, putting the celery in a bowl.

Oscar clucked his tongue. "You must need glasses."

His mother put her hands on her hips, pausing her work and looking at him.

"If you're not careful, Oscar Gilbertson, you'll end up hurting his feelings."

Oscar blinked at her, a bit surprised that she had used both his first and last name. He hadn't really thought that Jasmin was that bothered by his reactions. If anything, he just became more annoying than before. And he whines like a little kid, too.

Oscar finally shrugged at his mother, who hadn't moved, and mumbled, "Alright, alright, I get it, mom."

"Good."

Mrs. Gilbertson pushed Oscar's plate toward him and set about cleaning up after the mess she had left on the counter.

Oscar slowly ate his sandwich, quietly sulking. Is anyone on my side?

"Are you going to go to the festival in the third district?" His mother asked, wiping down the countertop.

"Dunno. Don't really want to." Oscar took another bite of his sandwich. Mrs. Gilbertson huffed. "Well, I think it'd be fun! And if you're only not going because of the blonde boy, then you better believe that you're going."

Oscar rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, lucky for me, it's not just because of Jasmin. There's going to be a crowd there, mom. You know how I am with crowds."

Mrs. Gilbertson sighed. "I still think you should go. Besides," She said, smiling, "It might be easier to handle it with your other friends."

Oscar put his chin on the palm of his hand, tracing the top of the counter with his other. "I dunno. I guess you could be right, but... I still don't know."