Anyway, thanks for reading my story. Really appreciated it.
[Astrid's P.O.V]
Flashback...
Shit! Shit! Shit! I'll be late!
I hopped in front of the mirror. I did my best to finger-comb all the strands that were poking out of my hair, since I lost my comb last night, but apparently my fingers aren't the best replacement for a comb. I swore I left it on my desk. But that doesn't matter now. Right now, I'm late and Professor Michael is going to chew me out.
I hastily fit my black beanie over my head, covering my uncombed hair. I wore a white coat over a dull blue loose shirt, black leggings, and last but no the least, a pair of pearl-white Converse.I scampered downstairs like a little kid at Christmas, skipping off at the last step.
"Uncle Fisk! I'll be on my way!" I yell out to him as I grab a slice of toasted bread and carelessly smear strawberry jam on it.
Uncle Fisk poked his head out of the kitchen, crumbs of bread sprinkled over his bushy blond beard. A white apron over him that says 'Fearless Mama In Da Haus!'. A small shade of white blended along his short blond hair. Though he looks aged, the bright sparkle in his sapphire-blue eyes still burned for a long time, and it had no plans to burn out.
"Well, good luck on your chemistry test. Still remember what we reviewed last night?" He grinned, expecting me to forget.
"The formula for converting mass to mole is dividing the given mass to the molar mass of the given compound." I stated as if it were embedded in my brain. Uncle Fisk just smiled warmly and tossed me... is that a boiled egg?!
I dropped my bag to catch the egg, only for it to bounce off my head, without cracking. It fell to the ground, continuously bouncing along the floor. I gave Uncle Fisk a blank stare as he boomed with laughter. I swear that one of his pranks will give him a stroke some day.
"That was good! There's no way I'm going to throw an egg at ya. Yet. Now off you go!" He says, still snickering.
I rolled my eyes as I picked up my bag. "See you later, Uncle Fisk." I yell out, opening the front door.
"Go have fun, killer. Also give that Haddock kid a beating for me. Still haven't forgiven him for breaking my workbench with that god awful mini catapult of his." He scowled, remembering the splinter of wood that nearly hit him.
I let out a hearty laugh, "Will do!"
As I closed the door behind and breathed in the fresh city air of Berk. A small city with the population of a few thousand people. Ain't much to look at but home's home. Just in time, my friend Racquel drove over my side of the sidewalk then honked at me with her brand new bike.
Yes. She attached a horn on a bike. I don't know what she was thinking but she's a Thorston. Both her parents were amazing weirdoes. So what do you expect? A slick green power cruiser with thick black tires, large exhaust pipes, and a shiny gold horn in a shape of a dragon's head. Racquel took off her helmet, shaking her hair out. People walking down the street, eyed her weirdly. Yup, this is my weird friend. She then placed the helmet on top of her bike, then grinned at me.
"So, what do you think?" She arched her eyebrow, obviously asking for my opinion on her bike.
"It's green." I reply blankly.
"Yeah, so what!? Also is that all you have to say?" She gave me a look, her palm on her chest as if saying 'how dare you?'
I gave her a shrug, not really caring. She then rolled her eyes at me then hopped out of her bike. As if presenting a brand new invention, she got on her knees and spread her arms at her bike.
"This baby has 392 horsepower with 411 pound-feet of torque. Made out of magnesium alloy that can withstand a direct hit at a wall at 80 mph!" She stated without losing a breath.
If this continues, it would take all day to stop her. She's a crazy gearhead with a thing for fast bikes. I just wanted this to be over so I put up a fake smile and gave her a thumbs up. Satisfied with my response, she hopped back in her bike then stomped on the gear. The engine roared like a den of lions. Smoke was whisking out of the exhaust pipes. Revving her bike, the constant rumble and spews of smoke from the bike gave me chills. I had to admit, it was amazing. But I'm late, and that's more important. I threw my bag over my shoulder, then joined Racquel on the bike.
"Show me how fast this thing is!" I shouted.
With an evil grin that would make men cower in fear like babies, she gave me a salute then revved the bike forward. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I died.
Not really. But it felt like it. We were going so fast, I felt like my face was melting off. We were dodging cars and buses, taking every shortcuts, beating every red light. I wanted to scream, but it got stuck on my throat and I was left gagging like a seal.
Then when I thought things couldn't get any worse, she hit the brakes. The screeching of the tires attracted the local people who thought they were going to have a peaceful day. They were wrong. We stopped near a street where most of the stores and fast-food restaurants were. Directly in front of us, is a burger place that recently opened. I always wanted to try their bestseller: The Submaripper.
But for now, that's way off my mind. Confused to why we suddenly just stopped, I was about to ask her why when Racquel silenced me with a wave of her hand. I was shocked that Racquel was brave enough to do that. No one has done that before without receiving a punch in the arm. But I'm even more shocked at myself. I was probably too stunned about it. Yeah, probably that.
"Stay here, while I pick something up." Then like a hamster, she scurried away.
What's taking her so long?
She's been gone for 10 minutes! I'm surprised that I'm still not that late. Still have 15 more minutes. I decided to take out my phone, scroll through the pictures in my gallery to pass time. I had my phone for 5 years so I had an entire five years-worth of pics in here. I scrolled randomly, not bothering to check them all out. Then I noticed a folder that says 'do not open'.
Guess what I did.
Yup.
I know. Ironic, isn't it?
When I opened it, it only contained three pictures. At first, I was confused. What kind of person would put three pics in a single folder
Oh, yeah. Me.
Then realization hit me like a smack in the face. I finally remembered this. I used to label this album as my most precious pictures. One was a old pic of me and my parents. My mom, Ingrid Hofferson, was a beautiful woman. Light brown hair, ocean-blue eyes, dimples whenever she smiled. She was perfect. And that's why my father, Colt Hofferson, fell in love with her. For a tough guy, he sure goes jelly whenever he sees my mom. My dad was a tall and muscular guy with short blond hair, light-blue eyes, and the straightest teeth I have ever seen. I missed them. When I heard that they passed away in a train accident, I broke down. Locked myself in my room for days, refusing to eat or sleep. I was miserable for weeks, months.
But then, he entered my life...
Unconsciously, a warm smile crept up my lips. The memory of him helping me calmed my mind. His comforting words that he said back then, I still remember them. Every. Word. And each time, it calmed me. That's why I'll never forget it. I swipe to the next picture, which was a picture with me and the gang. We all were wearing our P.E uniforms, a pair of olive green jogging pants, and a plain white shirt. We took this three years ago, on our field trip to Washington D.C. We all looked so young back then.
Key word, 'looked'.
Meaning, our personalities haven't changed. Watching a 14-year old Shawn trying to pick up girls who were twice his age was one of our sources of entertainment. I remember when we used to bet how long does it take before he gets rejected. I wanted to win so I not-so-subtly said some unusual things about Shawn to the girl that he was about to ask out. We were laughing our asses off when Shawn barely even looked at her direction before replying with a sweet 'hell no'. His face fell almost immediately and I earned thirty bucks that day. I laughed silently, remembering the fun memories we had.
Then, the last picture.
To admit that this was my most precious photo is offensive to the others. But it's true. It was me, and Hayden in the Berk Central Park, four years ago. It was the middle of summer when I saw Hayden trying to make a battleship out of banana leaves and sticks.
I beamed at the picture, longingly. His auburn hair was styled like a bell, making his head look like a mushroom. He was short that time, around 4'10. He had numerous freckles on his face that were sprinkled along like stars. His noodle-like arms could barely carry a rock. But no matter what, he's still my best friend. He would occasionally tell me advises that I would sometimes ignore, but later, I will painfully find out that he was right all along. I hated that about him. That he's right.
The first time that happened was when I was 12-years old. I was sitting on a tree, staring at a family photograph of me and my parents. They'd recently died and I was having thoughts to join them. Just as I was about to jump from the five-meter high tree, a voice spoke behind me. 'Hey, pretty high up here, ain't it?'
I turned around to see a small frail boy in long-sleeved shirt and brown pants, who was shaking in fear of the height he had just climbed. I had judged him too quickly, thinking he was just another boy who would tease and annoy me. But when he looked at me with his pure emerald eyes and that timid lopsided grin, my heart suddenly felt at ease. No one, other than my family, has looked at me with such genuinity and sincerity.
'Who are you?' I asked him. My thoughts of dying had temporarily been forgotten.
With his unfaltering smile, he replied, 'Hayden Haddock. And you're Astrid Hofferson, right?'
'Yes, how'd you know?'
'I heard my parents talking about you earlier.'
A crestfallen look then crawled up my face. My past thoughts returning to me as I stare down to the ground. I wondered if it would hurt. Hayden must've followed my gaze because all of a sudden, he spoke up, 'Don't do it...'
I whip my head towards his direction, shocked at his attempt to stop me. 'Why?' I asked him.
'You'll get hurt if you fall. You might even die.'
'I think that's the point.' I replied, my gaze returning downwards. 'Maybe I can go back to my parents. Then we can be a happy family!'
Hayden stared at me with a clueless look, 'But if you're dead, how can you be happy?'
'I don't expect you to understand. You still have your happy family.' I regretted telling him that. Because once I saw his face again, a familiar expression was etched on it. One that mirrored mine. A look of pain and loss.
'I don't have a mom. She left when I was a baby.' He told me. I widened my eyes at his honest declaration. Then he pushed it even further by rolling up his sleeves, revealing a series of dark bruises. Some where fresh and some where faded. He then shocked me with this one line;
'My dad hits me...'
He rolled his sleeves back down with a longing look, 'So, I also don't have a happy family. But at least you got to experience it." He then looks at me with a smile. 'Please don't hurt yourself. It doesn't feel good.'
'But I don't know if I can forget them.' I replied with sigh.
'I didn't say you should forget them. Just move forward. Life's just a game. The only way to win, is to keep playing. I read that from my mom's old diary once.' He pouted with a look of confusion. 'I don't know what it means but I have a feeling that I should tell you.'
I was twelve years old that time, so I barely understood it. But what I understood was that Hayden cared about me, and that was good enough. We became friends, and as we grew up, that phrase began to be our motto. When one of us was feeling down or sad, we'll just repeat the phrase until it gets stuck on our heads once again. Up until now, we're just as close, maybe even closer. So close, that he began ranting to me about his dad and his tendency to hit him. To some, it would come out as annoying. But to me, I gladly listened and understood him. He's the one who saved me after all. And I owe it to him.
"How long are you going to stare at that picture?"
I jolted. My head whipped towards Racquel, who was busy watching me while eating a box of noodles. I stared at her incredulously. Was she there the whole time?
"How long have you been there?" I snapped.
She shrugged it off, "Around the part where you had that stupid smile on your face. You look like a lovesick maiden."
I narrow my eyes at her, then crossed my arms over my chest. Though a small blush hinted my cheeks.
"What took you so long?" I asked, changing the subject.
"The chef forgot my order. So I had to wait for it to be cooked." She shrugged whilst she slurped down a noodle, some of the sauce flicking over her nose.
"And all this was for a box of noodles?"
"Yes."
I don't even know why I'm friends with her.
"Also, we have only 8 minutes left till school starts."
WHAT?!
After three minutes of Racquel's hellish but fast driving, we arrived at our destination; Berk High. I stumbled around as I got off, my head spinning like a top. My vision was like seeing through a kaleidoscope. I'm pretty sure I lost a few brain cells.
Thank the gods for making my beanie stay on my head. I swear my hair would have looked like bird's nest if it had been blown away.
Racquel turned off the engine then hopped out. I didn't really give her clothes much notice but now that I got a good look at it, I'm surprised she wore that while on a bike. She wore an oversized shirt that's tucked in a pair of denim shorts. A red and black checkered sweater was wrapped around her waist like a belt. A thin silver chain was attached from her bangle bracelet, to her ring. And last but not the least, a pair of black knee-high boots.
"See, got you here in time!" She teased.
I gave her a hard stare but I focused more on the time. I had five minutes left till the bell.
"Just get me to class with my limbs intact." I groaned
Then all of a sudden, my knees began to feel like jelly. Like a bowling pin, I stumble to the ground, landing on my ass. Shit. I probably should have sat down for a while. Groaning, I motioned for Racquel to help me up.
I mean, come on! I just fell down, and you're just going to stare at me?
Racquel snickered quietly. I was confused. What was she laughing about. I was about to ask when I felt two strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me up. My cheeks burned, knowing who this was. I turned around and I was right.
That long auburn hair with the two braids at the bottom. Those faded freckles on his cheek and nose that made him even cuter. His chiseled jaw and crooked smile that always melt my insides. His lean and defined body that magically popped up last year. That pair of emerald-green eyes that stared at me with amusement. Yup, I know who this was. I kept the butterflies down in my stomach as I look up to him with my biggest smile, to which he returned with a crooked one.
"Late again, Mi'lady?"