Bright Eyes

24. Bloody Monday

    "Yes!" exclaimed Max. "And their children grew up huge. Goliath was one of them."

    The academic building now came to full view. Students filed in through the front doors, checked and patted down by security guards, then let in.

    Footsteps pounded behind them, against the concrete floor, growing louder as the source caught up to them. Then arms, muscular and tan, draped themselves over Damien and Max's shoulders.

"So what are we talking about?" said Jack, as they walked past the raven's statue.

Something smelled good, Damien noticed—cooked meat, and scrambled eggs, and mayonnaise, and tomatoes. He glanced to the right, and true enough there was a huge half-eaten sandwich in Jack's hand. Breakfast-on-the-go for the athlete with the busy morning schedule.

"Still figuring out what Mister Brighteyes really is," said Sander, walking up the steps to the front doors of the Ravenwood academic building.

"Anything new?" asked Jack, before each of them, one by one, had their bags checked and were patted down and were allowed in.

"Same theory as yesterday," said Lyn, the second Jack went through the front doors and into the hallway. Damien and Sander followed shortly after.

"But," said Max, resting a hand on Jack's shoulder. "I've got a new theory."

"And what's that?"

They were walking down the corridor, heading to their respective lockers to get some of their things before class starts at half past eight.

    "What if Mister Brighteyes is half-Crystallian and half-Servant-of-Elohim?" said Max, excitedly. "It's possible, don't you think?"

Jack thought for a moment, and nodded, and said, "Could be. Could be."

    "Ha! Told you," said Max, pointing a finger at Lyn, which in turn the raven-haired girl raised an eyebrow.

    "I didn't even contradict you," she said, pushing his hand down. "Don't accuse me of something I didn't do."

    "No, uh, what I was trying to say was—" A tinge of pink blossomed in Max's cheeks; his ears had turned red. "Look, what I meant was, I—"

    "Max, you're trying to prove your new theory to the wrong person." Lyn smiled a close-mouthed smile, and said, "I think your new theory makes sense."

    Max relaxed a bit, although his cheeks remained pink and his ears were still a noticeable scarlet. "Thanks, Lyn."

"Sure," she said, simply. Then, "Well, guess I'll see you all later at lunch." And with that, Lyn stepped away from them, and walked over to her locker.

Max turned to his other friends. "Sander, Damien, your opinion?"

"On what?" asked Damien.

Jack munched on his sandwich.

"The new theory. What do you guys think? What is thy verdict, my fine gentlemen?"

Sander shrugged, the corners of his lips quirking up in a small inadvertent smile. "Come to think of it, it is possible."

Damien nodded in agreement. He chuckled. "I might actually take you seriously on that one." He patted Max on the shoulder. "Nice thinking, bro."

Max opened his mouth to speak, only for him to close it again, his eyes growing wide, upon the realization that—

"Oh, shoot. I gotta go back. We just passed by my locker." And with that, Max sped off in the opposite direction. "See you later!" he called out to his friends, his voice loud enough for everyone within a seven-meter radius to hear.