One Week Friends

Chapter Two: Warmth of Hestia

Tuesday

I got to school earlier than usual. Skipping my way down the halls, because no one would see, I started humming.

"You're awfully happy today." I heard Benson's voice.

I stopped abruptly and accidentally slipped, falling down heroically on the floor and hurting my chin. Groaning, I rub my chin and made sure it's okay.

"Good morning Benson," I mumbled. "Couldn't you have given me a warmer welcome, like a handshake or a hug?"

"I'm not interested." He replies in his usual gloomy monotone.

Let me introduced the epitome of laziness and uninterested. Benson Levine, A 17-year old blonde straight haired and blue eyed, soon-to-be prodigy. This kid has been my friend since our diaper days. He is highly intellectual and such a boredom lover person. His lack of interest just ruins his name as prodigy. He could be running over Nobel Prize awards or better yet president if he took the liberty to work on it. He has a dull face every time you look at him. He isn't much of a looker because he doesn't try to fix his hair or dress appropriately and his glasses make him appear to look mature, but if he did try to look good, oh man I think my heart would skip a beat if I were a girl. You can always see him in some dark wash jeans and a hoodie with some slacks. Everywhere he goes it's the same thing. It almost seems like he is a hobo. But let me tell you, this guy is stinking rich.

Then there is yours dearly, Andrew Harris, Your average 17 year old high schooler who happens to have brown curly hair and blessed with honey coloured eyes. I'm not built with triceps or biceps but I'm not particularly thin either, you could say I'm just lean. I'm not much of a looker or a guy you'd drool over but from what I've heard from girls is that I look like a cute build-a-bear teddy. So, I'm assuming that they think I'm cute. I haven't had any girlfriends nor had a girl come up to me confessing her love which is pretty embarrassing. The only way I've scraped my way up through high school is that I'm pretty much a funny guy so people don't have a problem with me.

Benson and I stuck close together for everything, not like we had a choice or such. We both are lazy people and usually paired up because nobody wants to work with people who do their work half-arsed. We're basically people who sit in the back benches and usually sleep. Another reason is that we both are big classic novel geeks. Call us old fashion, but comic books are just too immature.

"So why are you here, Benson?" I ran my fingers down my face almost tiredly.

"What do you mean?" He raised his eyebrow.

"Exactly what I meant." I shot back at him.

He sighed, "I come here early every day."

"Huh?" I answered lamely.

"My sisters are pretty annoying in the morning and it's way too noisy for me." Did I forget to mention that he had 9 sisters and he is practically the only son?

"Oh okay."

"What brings you here?" He flipped a page of the book he was holding. His eyes shuffle, line by line, reading the page at a extraordinary pacing.

"Um, no nothing... I'm just... Going to..." ah, think, make an excuse. You can't tell him that you're here to meet Charlotte. "I was... Going to... throw out the trash."

"The trash?" He asked rather too sternly.

"Yes, the trash." Ha, he looks like he believes it. Keep going with it. I puffed my chest out and crossed my arms, trying to appear confident.

"Why are you doing that?"

"Cause old-man janitor bob was sick... He has this decease called... Cavities, it was a very contagious sickness and he kept spitting blood and he felt migraines all the time. So he took a leave and asked me to throw the trash"