We Use to Make Fun of Those Guys - Tomorrow
Maybe, just maybe he won't have to tell her. Maybe he'll just wait till tomorrow. It won't hurt if he just told her tomorrow...
Thanks to all you people who comment, that makes us writer extremely happy! Especially to Sami(I love your name!) and Asian cutie, for being the first to comment! :) I kinda have an idea for this story, but not quite sure. Sorry, I have the radio blaring, the television on, and its 11 o'clock, but I just couldn't sleep, I'm to distraught. The new Bones premiered today, and I live for the Promos at the end. Will he or won't he? Leave a comment if you know what I'm talking about. (Like my line break?)
~l***<++>***l~
All around him, everywhere, tiny little pieces of his life came down, from the wall he had built many years before; The next door neighbor, who Max-Thames had so willingly mowed the lawn for every week, since her only child's son, her grandson, had gone off to serve the country, and had grown quite fond of him, his fifth grade teacher, who had easily been one of his most favorite teachers, the lady at the supermarket, that he bet with every time he went shopping, all the friends he had ever made in his life, and, poor Kara. That was the last straw, the middle of the pile, that sent everything in his life so forth, down to pieces.
His mother, who had been sitting on the couch, right next to Max-Thames as he had gone into a withdraw, or something of that sort, was staring at him curiously. His father, however, just sat there, on the couch, completely unaware that his son was dying inside. A cruel man, that one.
Max-Thames could hardly believe what was happening to him, therefore, he could hardly comprehend it. How could his parents do this to him? How could the only parents he had ever know, take him away from the place he grew up?
Talk about cruel and unusual punishment; This was a hundred, thousand, million times worse. Way worse than the time he had been playing with matches, the paper towels caught fire, and he almost burned down the entire house, even more so worse than the time he had almost been hit by that car trying to get home from school, and it had turned out to be his own father, and worse than the time his mother and father forgot him at school one afternoon and he had to hitchhike back through his next door neighbor, eventually ending in a search and rescue, when he had 'Gone Missing!' and his parents hadn't thought to check home.
Slowly, incredibly slowly, but surely, Max-Thames had come out of his withdraw, and came face-to-face with his mother's stare, and his father, who by no means, looked even the bit worried about his kid. All in all, this little affair lasted only about thirty seconds. "What?" he asked.
"You heard me, loud and clear. We're moving. Not far, maybe three hours away. I don't see why you're so freaked out." Came Jack's cool response.
"We're moving three hours away?" asked Max-Thames incredulously.
"Yeah." Jack answered, with the slight wave of his hand. "Now if we are done with this... affair, I must be going, work is call, and China can't be left alone with Japan, unless we want to get Russia involved, and if Russians get involved, so do the Polish and Canadian. A real hell hole." Jack got up from the couch and walk briskly away.
Max-Thames watched his father strut to his study, heard him slam the door, and lock it in place so they couldn't come in. All he could do was look back at his mother. She seemed to be waiting for something to happen, just as much as he had. When only silence was left, she finally spoke in soft voice, "Boxes will be here, uh, soon. You should start packing, you know, when they arrive. Well be leaving at the end of the year you know."
"Uh yeah. What-where are... we going to- to live?" Max-Thames pondered out loud, almost expecting his mother to not answer.
"Albin." Harmonic stated firmly. "Nice small town, with a Prep School. That's where you'll be going. Hazel Preparatory School. Real nice. And perfectly affordable. For us."
At this last remark, Max-Thames' jaw dropped all the way to the floor, and it would have gone farther if there was farther to go. 'A Prep School? Really? A Prep School, with snobbish, crude, rich, jerk-offs? And girls who would fawn over nothing? Arrogant, intolerable, little miscreants that thought that just because their 'Mommy and Daddy' had money, they automatically ruled the world?' And yet there was no way to argue. How? What was he going to do? How?
'How?'
That single thought bounced around in his head till he finally got to school, where Kara was waiting. 'Holy sh**. Never mind, that was a bad thought. Yet it still applied.' What the hell was he going to do? Kara, his best friend since forever, was waiting for him, and he didn't even know what to do, or say. Should he wait so she can have a... clean break, or give it to her now? He pondered for another moment, then gulped and walked over. It was a lot like this early morning.
Max-Thames had walked slowly upstairs, his heart pounding with anger, frustration, and another sentiment that he couldn't truly place. Maybe pissed-off-ness. But not quite. When he got to his room, he sank down into a ball on the floor, and debated whether to cry or not, to get dressed or not, to go to school or not, or to call Kara or not; he didn't pick the latter, but didn't cry either. He got dressed quickly, putting on his favorite red and black plaid button up shirt, a pair of gray jeans, his 'Sexy-cap' and some blue Reebok shoes from somewhere in his closet. He, then tumbled down the stair, as he couldn't get away fast enough, hopped on his bike to get away.
Kara smiled when Max-Thames walked up and stood next to her, and he smiled back, his biggest, There's-nothing-wrong-with-me-what-are-you-talking-about smile. She noticed anyway. "What the hell happened this morning?" She asked with eyes that knew that something really big was up.
"Uh, nothing much, they just wanted to tell me what was up and all. Nothing to worry about." he said, trying to sigh. Life was hard when you were lying to your best friend.
"Really? Is nothing really wrong?"
"Yeah, perfectly fine." Max-Thames lied through his teeth.
"Come on, talk to me. Give me the goods!"
He slightly smiled, but continued with, "I don't have any goods. I take that back, I have goods, but not about my parents." That wasn't a complete lie, was it?
"Are you sure? Because you can talk to me. About anything. Well almost anything, and remember, you have guy friends too. That you can talk to about guy things. If that ever comes up." she said, rambling on.
"No, I'm fine." he raised his shoulders in a shrug.
"Uh, okay, whatever you say." Kara said, knowing full well that if there was something up, he would have no reason not to tell her, and even if he did have something that was up, he would tell her in his own time. Unfortunately she had no time to ponder this, because the starting bell rang, and first period would soon ensue. Math was hellish.
Math passed tortuously slow that day, as Mr. Clark explained in excruciating detail, all the important things that had to do with finding the circumference of a circle when it was split in parts. As boring as that was, it came a shock when History was also as boring, along with science. Before long, PE had kicked in, and at least it wasn't as boring as the rest of the school day.
Max-Thames sat on the very top of the bleachers, staring down upon mostly boys, and some girls as they played basketball on the six courts that the school owned, and soccer and football and Ultimate Frisbee on the big field. Usually Max-Thames would be out there, playing Ultimate Frisbee, or Soccer, of Football, or even Basketball if it pegged him. Some days, he might even run laps because it just felt like a good day for that.
But today was not any of those days. Today was the day he sat on the bleachers, filled with gossiping girls, and wimpy boys who were too stubborn to participate. Max-Thames could just catch a bit of the conversation; "Did you hear what ----- did when Sam bro-- up w--- he-?" "Yeah --- total-- we-- up to --- --- ----friend and ---- a truce. I -as extremely fun---." "I -no- right!" (Did you hear what Carly did when Sam broke up with her. Yeah she totally went up to his old girlfriend and made a truce. It was extremely funny. I know right!)
It looked as if he might cry, and yet he didn't. However, if you enter his mind at this exact moment, you would be swamped with his thoughts. 'What did I do to deserve this? Why do they hate me? I've lived my whole life in Casper, I can't just leave whatever I've ever know. They can't do this to me.' And yet they could. Prep School, in a small town. That's what his type was coming to.
"Hey Mitchell!" shouted a guy from the Basketball courts. At first, he couldn't tell who it was, but then saw it was Jon, just another friend looking for a pick-up game. "Come play!"
"Um, yeah, I'm coming down right now." he shouted back, and headed down the bleachers to play a pick-up game with Jon and the other good guys who he never expected to leave before graduation day. These were some of his friends, not his best friends, but there were up there. Really good friends.
At first, Max-Thames thought he would totally suck at basketball, seeing as he was quite distracted, but alas, in the first few minutes of the game, Max-Thames had scored two, three-pointers, and successfully shot five free throws. He was really into the game by the time the ten minute bell rang, scoring fifty points at least, and the boys were all shoved back into the cramped locker room.
Several pats on the back were in order, as well as were many whoops when he came into the locker room, all sweaty and such. It took his mind off thing, but only for a short time, as he came out of the locker room, Kara was sitting at the lunch table they usually sat at. She looked so happy. Maybe he would tell her tomorrow.
~l***<++>***l~
All around him, everywhere, tiny little pieces of his life came down, from the wall he had built many years before; The next door neighbor, who Max-Thames had so willingly mowed the lawn for every week, since her only child's son, her grandson, had gone off to serve the country, and had grown quite fond of him, his fifth grade teacher, who had easily been one of his most favorite teachers, the lady at the supermarket, that he bet with every time he went shopping, all the friends he had ever made in his life, and, poor Kara. That was the last straw, the middle of the pile, that sent everything in his life so forth, down to pieces.
His mother, who had been sitting on the couch, right next to Max-Thames as he had gone into a withdraw, or something of that sort, was staring at him curiously. His father, however, just sat there, on the couch, completely unaware that his son was dying inside. A cruel man, that one.
Max-Thames could hardly believe what was happening to him, therefore, he could hardly comprehend it. How could his parents do this to him? How could the only parents he had ever know, take him away from the place he grew up?
Talk about cruel and unusual punishment; This was a hundred, thousand, million times worse. Way worse than the time he had been playing with matches, the paper towels caught fire, and he almost burned down the entire house, even more so worse than the time he had almost been hit by that car trying to get home from school, and it had turned out to be his own father, and worse than the time his mother and father forgot him at school one afternoon and he had to hitchhike back through his next door neighbor, eventually ending in a search and rescue, when he had 'Gone Missing!' and his parents hadn't thought to check home.
Slowly, incredibly slowly, but surely, Max-Thames had come out of his withdraw, and came face-to-face with his mother's stare, and his father, who by no means, looked even the bit worried about his kid. All in all, this little affair lasted only about thirty seconds. "What?" he asked.
"You heard me, loud and clear. We're moving. Not far, maybe three hours away. I don't see why you're so freaked out." Came Jack's cool response.
"We're moving three hours away?" asked Max-Thames incredulously.
"Yeah." Jack answered, with the slight wave of his hand. "Now if we are done with this... affair, I must be going, work is call, and China can't be left alone with Japan, unless we want to get Russia involved, and if Russians get involved, so do the Polish and Canadian. A real hell hole." Jack got up from the couch and walk briskly away.
Max-Thames watched his father strut to his study, heard him slam the door, and lock it in place so they couldn't come in. All he could do was look back at his mother. She seemed to be waiting for something to happen, just as much as he had. When only silence was left, she finally spoke in soft voice, "Boxes will be here, uh, soon. You should start packing, you know, when they arrive. Well be leaving at the end of the year you know."
"Uh yeah. What-where are... we going to- to live?" Max-Thames pondered out loud, almost expecting his mother to not answer.
"Albin." Harmonic stated firmly. "Nice small town, with a Prep School. That's where you'll be going. Hazel Preparatory School. Real nice. And perfectly affordable. For us."
At this last remark, Max-Thames' jaw dropped all the way to the floor, and it would have gone farther if there was farther to go. 'A Prep School? Really? A Prep School, with snobbish, crude, rich, jerk-offs? And girls who would fawn over nothing? Arrogant, intolerable, little miscreants that thought that just because their 'Mommy and Daddy' had money, they automatically ruled the world?' And yet there was no way to argue. How? What was he going to do? How?
'How?'
That single thought bounced around in his head till he finally got to school, where Kara was waiting. 'Holy sh**. Never mind, that was a bad thought. Yet it still applied.' What the hell was he going to do? Kara, his best friend since forever, was waiting for him, and he didn't even know what to do, or say. Should he wait so she can have a... clean break, or give it to her now? He pondered for another moment, then gulped and walked over. It was a lot like this early morning.
Max-Thames had walked slowly upstairs, his heart pounding with anger, frustration, and another sentiment that he couldn't truly place. Maybe pissed-off-ness. But not quite. When he got to his room, he sank down into a ball on the floor, and debated whether to cry or not, to get dressed or not, to go to school or not, or to call Kara or not; he didn't pick the latter, but didn't cry either. He got dressed quickly, putting on his favorite red and black plaid button up shirt, a pair of gray jeans, his 'Sexy-cap' and some blue Reebok shoes from somewhere in his closet. He, then tumbled down the stair, as he couldn't get away fast enough, hopped on his bike to get away.
Kara smiled when Max-Thames walked up and stood next to her, and he smiled back, his biggest, There's-nothing-wrong-with-me-what-are-you-talking-about smile. She noticed anyway. "What the hell happened this morning?" She asked with eyes that knew that something really big was up.
"Uh, nothing much, they just wanted to tell me what was up and all. Nothing to worry about." he said, trying to sigh. Life was hard when you were lying to your best friend.
"Really? Is nothing really wrong?"
"Yeah, perfectly fine." Max-Thames lied through his teeth.
"Come on, talk to me. Give me the goods!"
He slightly smiled, but continued with, "I don't have any goods. I take that back, I have goods, but not about my parents." That wasn't a complete lie, was it?
"Are you sure? Because you can talk to me. About anything. Well almost anything, and remember, you have guy friends too. That you can talk to about guy things. If that ever comes up." she said, rambling on.
"No, I'm fine." he raised his shoulders in a shrug.
"Uh, okay, whatever you say." Kara said, knowing full well that if there was something up, he would have no reason not to tell her, and even if he did have something that was up, he would tell her in his own time. Unfortunately she had no time to ponder this, because the starting bell rang, and first period would soon ensue. Math was hellish.
Math passed tortuously slow that day, as Mr. Clark explained in excruciating detail, all the important things that had to do with finding the circumference of a circle when it was split in parts. As boring as that was, it came a shock when History was also as boring, along with science. Before long, PE had kicked in, and at least it wasn't as boring as the rest of the school day.
Max-Thames sat on the very top of the bleachers, staring down upon mostly boys, and some girls as they played basketball on the six courts that the school owned, and soccer and football and Ultimate Frisbee on the big field. Usually Max-Thames would be out there, playing Ultimate Frisbee, or Soccer, of Football, or even Basketball if it pegged him. Some days, he might even run laps because it just felt like a good day for that.
But today was not any of those days. Today was the day he sat on the bleachers, filled with gossiping girls, and wimpy boys who were too stubborn to participate. Max-Thames could just catch a bit of the conversation; "Did you hear what ----- did when Sam bro-- up w--- he-?" "Yeah --- total-- we-- up to --- --- ----friend and ---- a truce. I -as extremely fun---." "I -no- right!" (Did you hear what Carly did when Sam broke up with her. Yeah she totally went up to his old girlfriend and made a truce. It was extremely funny. I know right!)
It looked as if he might cry, and yet he didn't. However, if you enter his mind at this exact moment, you would be swamped with his thoughts. 'What did I do to deserve this? Why do they hate me? I've lived my whole life in Casper, I can't just leave whatever I've ever know. They can't do this to me.' And yet they could. Prep School, in a small town. That's what his type was coming to.
"Hey Mitchell!" shouted a guy from the Basketball courts. At first, he couldn't tell who it was, but then saw it was Jon, just another friend looking for a pick-up game. "Come play!"
"Um, yeah, I'm coming down right now." he shouted back, and headed down the bleachers to play a pick-up game with Jon and the other good guys who he never expected to leave before graduation day. These were some of his friends, not his best friends, but there were up there. Really good friends.
At first, Max-Thames thought he would totally suck at basketball, seeing as he was quite distracted, but alas, in the first few minutes of the game, Max-Thames had scored two, three-pointers, and successfully shot five free throws. He was really into the game by the time the ten minute bell rang, scoring fifty points at least, and the boys were all shoved back into the cramped locker room.
Several pats on the back were in order, as well as were many whoops when he came into the locker room, all sweaty and such. It took his mind off thing, but only for a short time, as he came out of the locker room, Kara was sitting at the lunch table they usually sat at. She looked so happy. Maybe he would tell her tomorrow.
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