Sort of Deadly

50 - The End.

Back home.

Momma has been nominated for this “Coolest Scientist Ever” award for her breakthrough on stem cells. So all that time away from me paid off, I guess. I’m really happy for her. Plus, now she gets to work from home, so she can keep me updated on all these stupendous research papers she does for her job. I guess I know where my nerdy side comes from.

Pops is . . . well, Pops. When I first came back from Lakoswanion, exhausted and bittersweet to the bone, all he asked me was: ‘How was the party?’

I told him it was pretty awesome.

‘Pretty awesome,' he re-broadcasted, and buried his nose into a newspaper I suspected was dated five years ago.

Dope Sue, my drummer neighbor, actually turned out to be an amazingly understanding person as well. Her and I, we get along well. She’s teaching me how to drum in our overlap of free time, in fact. I’m awful at it so far, but spending time with her is fun. She’s, like, nine years older than me, but I think we get along royally well. And now that we are friends, she keeps her drumming practice restricted to the times when I’m not studying or snoozing.

What? I don’t study twenty-four hours!

Despite that, I am proud to say I quickly entered the good graces of my teachers in {Undis-2-closed}. Partial credit goes to Momma, because her award really was kind of a big deal and made the teachers . . . well, made them see me in a new light. Seeing my latest projects and marks, they’ve said they’re going to insist my Pops that I skip next three, four, maybe even five grades. Which is completely fine by me.

Garbo flunked her final exams. So I guess she’ll be getting bullied herself now . . . by classmates who are younger to her. And if she doesn’t change her ways, I tell you, she’s going to stay in school till her brother Arbo grows a white beard to his knees. 

See is obviously the one who missed me the most. I told her she saved my life by being the smartest beagle that ever walked the earth. She simply wagged her tail and licked my face in response.

Toby was in good condition, too. He’s an ardent introvert, though, so I don’t have a lot to say about him.

I did teach Es chess online! That’s big news!

And the surprising thing is, she’s actually pretty good at it. As a matter of fact, ‘good’ doesn’t even begin to cover it. She’s brilliant! I think she may have found her ‘human’ forte.

(Even though she is thinking of starting a committee which will fight for the equality of Kings and Pawns; yes, she believes the hierarchical system of a board game is unfair and she wants to correct it.)

And I’ll be going back to {Undisclosed} this next month – that is, on Christmas. Yes, it’s been that long since we last talked.  Sorry about that, told you I’ve been busy.

As long as the sweet dish at Marra’s place isn’t banana pudding, I think we’re good. Niffy has grown on me, mainly because I spent so many hours learning sign language from her. There’s just so many nuances that go into these gestures, like, wow! Aar barely even scratched the surface of the language; I strived to go in deep.

In fact, Niffy and I now have inside jokes of ourselves in sign language. We can insult Aar’s ridiculous impressions right in front of him and he can’t tell.

Mr. Om didn’t just feature, but was at the top of the list of Forbes’ Most Successful Businessfolk in {Un-1,2,3,4,5,6-disclosed}. Good on him!

The magazine even took an interview from Marra. He flaunted about it for months after. He’s kind of really popular at our old school now. Good on him too!

When the interviewers asked Marra what he thought of his Uncle’s empire, his answer was this:. ‘Never let anyone know what you’re thinking.’

Which is a quote from the movie, The Godfather. Which made Mr. Om feel incredibly proud of his nephew for some reason. I hope he changed his safe password, though. Because if Aar could crack it . . .

You know what? Talking to you after so long, it feels really nice. So I’ll tell you a piece of information I withheld from you earlier.

Remember when I first move to {Undis-2-closed} and how miserable I was? I want you to go back to . . . Chapter 13, is it? Yes, 13.

{Reminds me of Coven Thirteen. Pause for shudders.}

Yes, well, go back there. I said I had butterflies in my stomach as I settled into the car which took me to my new home. I said some things are better left unsaid. Know why I said that?

Just as I was leaving, Aar grabbed my wrist, looked into my eyes, said: ‘You know, right?’

I can be an utter imbecile at times, so I said, ‘Duh. I know.’

But honestly, I had no idea what he was saying. I think I do, though. I hope I think I do, at least.

Anyway, I have to go practice drumming with Dope Sue now. Maybe next time we talk – if we do ever talk again – I’ll be as good a drummer as I am a student. And maybe I won’t have all those stupid rules I made at the start of this whole thing. Maybe we’ll just lounge on a couch, you and I and some basic astrophysics books.

Okay, okay, fine. Minus the books. Happy?

I’m glad you are. If you’re not . . . well, I wasn’t for a long chunk of this story either, was I?

The End.

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