Kimberly Konquers the World, Book 1

how the world's most boring boy took up world domination as a hobby...

Chapter 2

Franklin woke the next morning to a deep pain in his stomach. It took him a minute to realize that what he was feeling the aftermath of yesterday's frozen burrito—but it could just as easily have been dread.

Today was Friday, which usually meant some extra homework to ignore and the beginning of a marathon weekend. He'd binge watch something on Netflix, and maybe leave a few comments on one of his gaming forums.

Not so long ago, there was a kid who lived across the street from Franklin. Franklin had never learned his name. He'd never crossed the street to ask. But every weekend that kid would sit on his front lawn and smoke weed and act like an idiot. Franklin used to watch him from his window; he'd even made a game out of mocking him.

Franklin missed that kid. In a strange way, he'd almost felt like they were friends. Weekends weren't the same without him.

Franklin stretched and climbed out of bed. Something felt wrong the minute his toes touched the carpet. Franklin wasn't superstitious, but today the idea of sitting through classes made him feel nauseous—even more than he usual. He wanted to ask his parents about taking a sick day, but they'd left for work before he made it downstairs.

The queasy feeling clung to him throughout the day. Franklin couldn't focus. He found himself paying even less attention than normal to his teachers. And during lunch he could've sworn he felt someone watching him out of the corner of his eye. When he turned his head, he thought he caught a glimpse of something bright and purple disappearing into the crowd.

At three twenty two he got a text from a number he didn't recognize. It said:

meet @ Glanville's Coffee at 1600 hours

DO NOT BE LATE

Franklin sighed at his phone. So yesterday had happened, he thought glumly. So much for trying to convince myself it was a dream.

The text also bothered him for another reason: Kimberly had his number—somehow. He never remembered giving her his number. That fact bothered him more than a little.

Franklin left school shortly after, taking the bus back home, changing, and grabbing his laptop while Mob Girlfriends played in the background. Twenty minutes later he waited at the bus stop at the end of his street.

His school gave all students a city-ride pass—they could ride the public bus and monorail for free. Though most of the time Franklin didn't want to. The people who rode the bus in his city frightened him, and the plastic green seats were always streaked with—something. Franklin was happier not thinking about what that could be.

Glanville's Coffee was part of a strip of little historic buildings in his town. Aged, covered in ivy and stained with mildew, they'd been declared landmarks by the city, and most of them were family businesses that had been around for a lot longer than Franklin. Franklin always thought they were interesting from a distance, but he preferred to stick with Starbucks.

He got off the bus and hit the streets at four, finding the coffee shop right at four o' five.

I guess I'm on time, the usually-punctual Franklin thought. She's not gonna sweat five minutes.

He walked beneath an arch bridge of moldering hard-covers and into the tiny coffee shop. He felt his vision tilt slightly, the warped floorboards giving him the sensation of stepping aboard a musty old barge.

Franklin scanned the crowd for the girl with the purple bangs. Unfortunately, this spot was popular with hipsters and scene girls. Almost every head was covered in an ironic hoodie, or dyed in an unnatural color.