antisocial

[ 17 ]

[ DEEP ENDS OF ST. FLINTRIDGE. ]

• • •

F I N N

• • •

If Finn Wolfhard stayed out of haphazard catastrophes, maybe going late for his first day of Lacrosse Games practice wouldn't be so likely.

He was practically sweating in his gym wear as he sprinted through the full hallway with his bag, bumping into passing students eagerly, squeaking out the words "out of my way!" each time.

It was until then, he shimmied his way through to the locker rooms to realize that the stubborn door was locked. Phenomenal. The irritation fell over him as he threw his hands up uselessly and cussed frantically under his breath. He was late and Mister Petter was going to kill him.

After countless hours of panicking, Finn had made the decision to go to the field without his lacrosse gear. All he really had was his scrawny gym shirt that had the icon of a knight and two swords that clacked together as one behind the figure, splotched on the right side near his collarbone with shorts and basic sneakers. He was far from prepared.

As he passed through the gates, trudging to the field, he could spot a small group centered in the middle. The more he came closer, the more he could see that in fact, the person who was speaking wasn't Mister Petter at all. He looked much younger than the elder, tall and had minimum length of long hair.

All of the students that surrounded the man, looked to the side to stare at Finn. For the first time throughout the morning, his face was painted over with slight embarrassment.

"Isn't it the infamous Wolfhard," the younger man sneered, now facing the curly-headed boy as he took out his toothpick. "Came late to make an obnoxious entrance?"

"Where's Mister Petter?" Finn deadpanned as he looked around the field, attempting to find the overly-infuriated bald-headed man.

"Aren't you a one of a kind. Mister Petter isn't one of the hosts for Lacrosse Games," the man explained as he let his eyes trail down to Finn's gym wear. "I see you came late and unprepared." He said 'and' like it's an insult making the freckled boy flinch slightly.

"The locker rooms were locked."

The man stood still as if he was observing new information, huffing out a "hmph" that bubbled up his throat. He popped back the toothpick that was once placed between his index and thumb, now in the center of his lips.

"I must've forgotten my manners. My name is Joe Keery. But please, for the love of god, call me Mister Keery or Mister K. Is that clear?"

Finn hesitated. "Uh, sure Mister Keery."

Mister Keery smiled. "Take a good look around you," he said. "Notice anything?"

Finn turned around, looking around the area. The gates that were once opened free was now locked out of spite. He grimaced.

"Nothing I could see," he said, hearing the rest of the students snicker behind the man as he hastily added, "Mister Keery."

The man shook his head slowly as he popped his lips. "Want to bail, Wolfhard?"

"What?"

"I said," he came closer to him as he tutted the words. "Do. You. Want. To. Bail?"

Finn blinked at him reluctantly as he turned back to look at the gates. He wasn't sure what kind of sick game Mister Keery was pulling off.