TUINSTRA: or The Chronicles of Schoolboys and Their Infallible Deeds

Chapter Two: Amos

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation," Reinhard leaned in, an earnest expression on his face. "I–I do quite well in Classics. If it would please you, I could help you. I've already begun tutoring the second years. You could join us."

Amos felt a smile pull at the corner of his mouth. "That would please me. And yet," He averted his eyes. "I think it would be quite odd for me to be tutored amongst a room full of second years. It seems very tasking to switch from one subject to another so rapidly."

Reinhard nodded. "Yes, yes you are right. Is there any time you might be able to study with me in the library? Privately, of course."

Perhaps it should worry him that Reinhard was so easily swayed, but Amos was ever the optimist for these situations, so he saw this more as evidence of his own skill. "I think I should be unoccupied within a couple of days. Does Saturday sound acceptable?" The other boy nodded. Amos grinned. "One more thing. I, Agosti, and a couple more men are going out into the village tomorrow night. It would delight me greatly if you would join us. Oh, and I refuse to take no as an answer."

Reinhard lit up, nodding quickly. "I don't think I would have been able to say no anyways. I'll bring biscuits. Thank you."

Amos laughed with him. "There is no need for your thanks.''He turned back towards the board, relaxing all except for the small smirk on his pink mouth. He could practically feel Agosti's glower rubbing all over him.

"I suppose it won't help to inform him that even some of the academy's most accomplished tutors had no idea what to do with you." Agosti murmured. "But yet again, it's not knowledge you're after is it?" Amos reached over and pinched the inside of Agosti's wrist, who proceeded to flinch and yank his hand away before kicking the other's ankle.

"Quiet." He gritted out, continuing to stare straight forward at the board, because if not he'd reach over and strangle the other. "He's behind you." Out of the corner of his eye, Amos saw Agosti scowl, his upper lip curling. It was only then, did he notice that Reinhard had a similar mole at the corner of his mouth that Agosti did, but somehow, that knowledge felt long known.

❂

September 4th, 1904

Football Pitch, Tuinstra Academy

He'd found Agosti on the pitch, panting on the ground, twirling a wet blade of grass between his fingers. Unlike Amos, he wasn't in uniform and had traited his black tailcoat and trousers for a loose shirt and navy pin-striped suspenders. His clothes were covered in dirt and grass stains, but he didn't seem to mind at all, instead looking perfectly content on the ground as he leaned back on his elbows. It annoyed Amos how at home he looked in the dirt.

The other boy noticed him as he grew near and he could see the way his expression immediately dropped. Amos gave him a cheeky grin. "Hello," He called out to Agosti, as he was near him, but not quite enough for a normal pitch. "I see you have accustomed yourself back to the pitch. Like a troll desperately crawling back under its bridge. Grossly fitting, don't you think?"

Agosti sighed, a frown beginning at his full mouth. "Greetings, Satan." He replied dryly. "Is there a reason you have come to disturb me?"

"I've been sent to fetch you. Nate's become more frigid than usual ever since he was sent that prefect acceptance letter, and he'll yell at all of us if you're late for dinner." He explained and held his hand out for Agosti to take. The boy on the ground surveyed him with distaste before reaching out and grasping his hand. When Amos pulled him to his feet, the two stood unusually near each other, enough for their chests to collide easily within a couple of centimeters. Amos examined Agosti, now that he was fully standing, and grimaced at the wet mess smeared across his clothes. To him, that was one of the most perplexing things about Agosti, how he could look so disheveled and grimy with such uncare and thoughtlessness. When Amos came out disheveled in public with confidence, it was a deliberate choice. He had ruffled his freshly styled hair and ironed clothes just enough to make him a rebellious, uncaring figure within Truinstra, but not enough to make him look like he was completely oblivious to it all, or even worse, have a lack of control. Agosti was comfortable with mess in a way that was vulnerable and open, truly disinterested in appearances and impressions. It agitated Amos that Agosti was so unbothered by the way he was perceived.