None the Worse ✓

4) 'A Watched Pot Never Boils' And Other Lies People Tell You In Hope Of Them...

"IT'S THIJMEN, BITCH!"

The already fairly quiet mumbles going around in the classroom with twenty-six male nerds went as silent as if all of them had fallen down a foxhole with lava at the bottom. Benjamin felt, if possible, even more quiet than he had been before.

All eyes, regardless if they wore glasses or looked in different directions or were ocean blue or grey wolf-colored turned to the Dutch Problem, standing tall with his hands grasping his bench. Benjamin and Martin and all of the others stared as if it had been King Kong standing there, grasping the top of the Empire State Building. Frankly, Benjamin was a bit scared. And he felt like Fifth Avenue. Why? If the Empire State Building fell, Fifth Avenue would be its first victim.

Benjamin scooched closer to Martin, feeling inclined to stop as the chair started squeaking.

The teacher subtly spat out the chunk of hair that she had been chewing on for the past couple of unbearable seconds. After a deep breath or four, she cleared her throat. "Thijmen. Welcome to our school, Thijmen."

Thijmen gave the woman a quick nod and sat down. It did not take much to please a Dutch delinquent, Benjamin realized. Though, if everyone would go around calling him Boon-je-moon all the time, he'd lose it, too. Become a dragon and breathe fire all over them. Then become a hero and extinguish the fire with water that he could control. My, what a wonderful world.

After class, the Dutch boy didn't get in any trouble, as a darker side of Benjamin might have hoped; in fact, he scared the teacher more than he aggravated her. She let him go with a note and the threat of emailing his parents, which he almost laughed at. Almost, as in slightly lifting his upper lip and letting out a puff of air.

Benjamin had expected/wanted him to at least get detention. It was unfair. If he had done as much as raise his voice the teacher would not only get him to stay after class cleaning the room or something, but she'd call his parents, which meant a) no Skyrim b) a three-hour scolding that would c) soon devolve into them complaining about this generation. And yet, there was Thijmen, all high and mighty just because he could make people flinch with a look.

And, actually, Thijmen did get attention. Just not the one Benjamin expected. For a blissful few minutes, he pretended it was just a delusion of his, but when class ended and people murmured and gave the stupid Dutch guy looks of awe, of respect, he began to worry.

Ordinarily, he wouldn't care. Honestly. Benjamin did Benjamin. Problem was, due to a faulty school system, now Benjamin did Thijmen as well. The very least thing he wanted was attention, but of course, that wouldn't do anymore...

But if nobody knew they were related, then there wouldn't be a problem, right?

Right. Sounded like a plan. And it's not like Thijmen really spoke to anyone, anyway. Even if people didn't know his morally dubious background, he practically had a huge back off sign at the top of his head. With blood. And the skulls of puppies.

So ha. It's not like he would—

"Thijmen!"

Benjamin froze. Back to Earth—he walked by the lockers with Pi and Heston, heading to the cafeteria and strategically avoiding larger, better-built people out of precaution. Out of the group, the only one who regularly got caught into a locker or a trash can was Messiah, and, to be honest, Benjamin couldn't blame them.

So they were there, and so was Thijmen, and so was a small crowd forming around his locker.

With absolutely no warning, Benjamin turned around and said, "Let's take the other way."

"Why?" asked Pi, then answered himself. He glanced at the crowd, then back at Benjamin. "You got beef with the new kid?"

"No," Ben said. If there was a chance he could still pretend he didn't know the guy, he would take it. He shook his head and then realized he'd have to keep living that lie. On the good side, if he did, then there was really no problem with having to cross paths with the Dutch guy everyday. With absolutely no warning, again, he turned Pi around and added, "Never mind. Let's go there."

Pi gave him a quizzical look.

Maybe Thijmen wouldn't see him and he could pass unnoticed. It wouldn't matter, really. Ben could just fake ignorance, and it's not like they'd even talked to each other for the last few days. What would change now? Only Thijmen blowing up again, with all the attention...

Actually, that'd be fun to see. Ben strategically walked as far as he could, dragging Pi along and glancing at the crowd from the corner of his eyes.

"Ben?" asked Pi, "What is it?"

"Shh. Watch and see."

So they watched and saw. Anyone paying attention to them would've fancied them as suspicious, because they walked like they were sloths in Zootopia. Waiting, expectantly, for the Dutch guy to blow up.

Waited.

And waited.

What the hell.

"Ben, this is getting boring—"

Suddenly, the crowd burst out laughing, which startled the hell out of both Pi and Benjamin. It seemed like they were laughing because of something Thijmen had said.

What was this? Was Thijmen making jokes now? In what realm did they land? If it wasn't one in which dragons existed, Ben didn't want to live in it.

Then Ben heard something he really hoped he'd imagined. It must have been the wind—which didn't blow through a freaking school, but what else could it have been? It really sounded like Thijmen had called Ben's name.

Ah, but there it was again.

"Bennie!" called out Thijmen, in a distinctly mocking tone, "Hey, Ben! Benji! Bennie!"

What. Was. He. Doing.

The fact the crowd seemed generally influenced by the tone didn't help. What the hell. Just a few minutes ago, he had that glare on, and now he acted like the sort of kid that would bring the others to the yard—the sort that would come with a ball and then everyone would play, and once he got bored the rest would get bored as well. And now Benjamin was the ball.

Now it was way too late to ignore Thijmen. Everyone watched him. Not just Pi, and Thijmen, but the entire crowd around him.

The question was, what did he do? How was he supposed to respond?

It seemed his brain went with the most stupid reply anyone could come up with and he grunted, "shut up."

Thijmen's eyebrows shot up with amusement. Ben's cheeks flared up, and so he took the manliest option and quickly sped off, with Pi on his heels and a gazillion unasked questions.