//------------------------------// // Extra: With friends like these... // Story: Improbable Truth // by Charon the Chronicler //------------------------------// Windell walked back from class early in empty hallways, satisfied with his marks. Amadeus will be quite proud to see him bring home 100% on his midterm. Maybe he’d even forget about all the wallets Windell had lost. First and second times were understandable, but eight times was just too much. Windell rarely carried money on him anymore, for fear of losing it. The teen neared his locker in the hallway, only to notice the lock had been opened using a hairpin. He frantically ran over and opened the door, only to find absolutely nothing in his locker. “What the hell,” He murmured aloud, “there was no money in there, just a bunch of notes. Why would they take that?” He shut the locker door, albeit a bit forcefully, and marched down the hallway. A loose sheet fluttered by him as he walked outside, carried by the wind. Another flew by him, and a third caught him in the face. He took it off, and looked down to see a sheet straight from his biology notes. Talk about leaving a paper trail. He frowned as he followed the flying sheets back where they came from. He heard a ripping sound and some muttering as he approached a corner. “Jess?” He asked. Jessica yelped and started stuffing her bag full of papers stolen from Windell’s locker. “It’s not what you think, Windell!” She yelled as she zipped up her backpack. “You stealing my notes and throwing away what you don’t like? I can’t believe you did this! We’re friends!” Windell looked at the sheets scattering in the wind. “Why?” “Listen,” She began nervously, “I’ve been selling your notes. We all need an income ̶” “You don’t!” He interrupted “Your parents are rich, they spoil the crap out of you! Why do you assume that stealing from me is okay?” “Well, you weren’t selling them,” Jessica shrugged “Someone had to.” She took her phone out of her pocket and looked at the time. “I have to go. Dad wants to take me to ̶” Windell’s hand leapt forwards and grabbed the wallet that Jessica had unintentionally pulled out of her pocket. His wallet. “What is this?” He asked coldly. “Well…y-you s-see…” the thief stammered. She had never seen Windell, the cheery, optimistic kid, go so cold, and she knew it was time to tread carefully. “I don’t care about your lies.” He continued in the same tone. “You are going to give me the wallets you haven’t sold or gotten rid of, back to me. You will give them back to me before noon tomorrow, with all of my pictures, all of my identification. You will not try to trick me, because I am not in the mood for your bullshit. You can keep the damn money if that’s what you want. I just want my family pictures back. Do all this within the allotted time, and you will get to see tomorrow’s sunset. After that, never speak, look, or breathe in my direction. Is that clear?” Jessica whimpered and nodded. <><><> “’Sup fuckface.” “Hello Glenda. As always, your vocabulary impresses me.” Windell gave her a coy smile as she snorted. That was just how Glenda worked, after all. Three years he’s known her, and she’s always been fiery and insulting. Windell never took it to heart. It was part of her charm. But that day, she didn’t seem to be in such a good mood. It was difficult to tell angry Glenda apart from normal Glenda, considering she was never not a degree of angry. Most of the time, she just sought out Windell for whatever reason, and she would normally find him at lunchtime underneath the oak tree by the science building. “Can you stop reading your shitty erotica and pay attention to me when I talk to your cunt face?” Windell sighed and closed his novel, choosing to ignore the ‘erotica’ comment. Apparently Glenda knew how much it annoyed him the first time, so she continued saying what he read was erotica, no matter how much he asked her to stop. Glenda leaned by the tree, and just vented her problems in varying degrees of irritation and coarse speech, and Windell sat there, letting her dump her rage on him. He was used to it. The insults didn’t hurt anymore. " ̶ And can you believe that they didn’t want to go to my party? They’re almost as shrimp-dicked as you, Windell.” Said teenager stood up at this, leaning against the tree by Glenda. “Actually Glenda, I have some pretty bad news. I can’t go to your little get-together.” “…What.” “Listen,” Windell rose up his hands as he tried to look away from her scalding gaze. “I know you’re upset. But I need to get a job so ̶” “Upset?” She interrupted, taking a deep breath, “UPSET DOESN’T EVEN BEGIN TO DESCRIBE HOW I FEEL RIGHT NOW! CAN YOUR DICK GO ANY FURTHER UP YOUR OWN ASS, OR ARE YOU GOING TO START USING IT AS A TONGUE?” Didn’t she just call me ‘shrimp-dicked’? She isn’t being very consistent. “I’VE SEEN DRUGGED UP HOMELESS SACKS OF SHIT CRAP THINGS BETTER THAN YOU!” That one’s new, but a bit repetitive, “YOU’RE SO DISGUSTING IT’S NO WONDER YOUR MOTHER DIED SO SOON AFTER GIVING BIRTH TO ̶ Gluck!” At that point, Glenda found her throat lacking air, courtesy of Windell’s iron grip on her throat. He stood a few inches shorter than her, but his emotionless eyes made the redhead feel so much smaller. “You can insult me, degrade me, yell at me, but you can never say things like that about my parents.” He brought her closer as stars danced in her vision. “Am I clear?” He released his grip on her slightly, letting Glenda take a few rattled breaths of air. She looked at him, eyes filled with fury and fear, coughing, “Crystal.” She managed to say. Windell let her go, pushed her, and she sulked off, trying to walk away with what was left of her pride. “Mama’s boy.” Glenda rasped under her breath. “You bet your ass I am, scat whore.” Windell called out to her in response. He watched her walk away, and sat back down, flipping open his book to continue reading. A few moments later, he blinked repeatedly, and looked to the hand he had choked Glenda with. “Did that really happen?” he muttered, turning his hand about, “It didn’t feel like it did.” <><><> “Do you know why you’re here?” “Because I got in a fight, sir.” Windell answered. The balding man facing him nodded, looking over his half-moon spectacles. “Now, the way Julian tells it, you started the fight. Despite what I’ve heard from other students, nobody has ever seen you act violently or rudely. In fact, when I’ve asked the teachers, they always commend you on both your conduct and your grades.” “I’m thankful that they think of me that way, sir.” Windell paused, and opened his mouth to go on, but couldn’t quite find the words. Principal Lenner motioned for him to continue. “What do you mean by what you’ve heard from the students?” Lenner winced ever so slightly, but it did not go unnoticed by Windell. The principal leaned back in his chair and twiddled his pen. “It doesn’t matter what they say. The fact of the matter is, you and Julian Andrews fought by room 213 shortly before lunch. Did you instigate it?” “No sir. There were witnesses, sir.” “Alright.” Lenner acknowledged, “I’ll bring one in, a friend of both you and Julian’s. He should be impartial, and thus, truthful.” He turned to an old microphone on his desk and pressed the PA button. “Would Robert Bellows come down to the principal’s office. Robert Bellows, principal’s office.” Lenner turned to face Windell once more, his unnaturally large eyebrows coming together like two gray caterpillars meeting to battle. Windell’s face was impassive, but his wringing hands and white knuckles told a different story. Minutes passed, and Windell began to wonder if this is what purgatory was like. Endless tension, ignorance of your own fate…and waiting…so much waiting. Apparently, Lenner was more impatient, and he leaned to the mic to call again, but the door opened, and in walked in Robert. And there he stood. Apparently he refused to take a seat. And his eyes refused to meet Windell’s. “Robert,” Lenner spoke in a tone that demanded compliance, “Would you care to tell me what you saw again?” “Sir, Julian was minding his own business by our classroom when Windell lashed out at him as soon as he left the class, yelling something about Julian’s girlfriend.” “Wai-That’s false!” Windell interrupted, “I was ̶ ” “That’s enough.” Lenner cut him off icily. “You had your chance, and your witness has already told us what happened. You may leave now, Robert.” Robert walked out silently, refusing to look at either of them in the eye. “You should know, Mr. Green, the only reason I’m being so lenient with you is because of the teacher’s praise. This student’s testimony is enough for me to enact the zero tolerance policy and expulse you from our school. But you have potential, if you keep your temper in check. I don’t know how you’d think to get away with this seeing the difference of injuries between Julian and you. So I’ll give you a choice. Admit the truth and get a week’s worth of suspension, or the next student’s testimony will determine your fate.” Windell’s head sunk as he looked to his knees. Most of the student body is either ambivalent towards me or outright dislikes me. And now I know that people are saying odd things to me. This is not going to be good. “Yes, sir.” “’Yes, sir’ what?” Lenner said smugly. “Yes, I started the fight, sir.” “Your suspension starts next week. Don’t bother coming to school.” Windell stood up, hanging his head as he walked towards the door. “And a word of advice? Perhaps your classmates would be more accepting if you washed that silly white dye out of your hair.” “Sorry sir, but this isn’t dye. I was born with a bit of white.” “Then why don’t you dye it?” “Father said my mother liked it. And I never liked lying about who I am.” “Well then, maybe a little lying would help.” “I think I’ve learned that today, sir.” Windell tonelessly said as he closed the door behind him. Lenner leaned back and mentally high-fived himself. I’m such a good principal. Later that day, Windell collapsed on Benny’s couch as Benny microwaved some pizza rolls. He would have preferred to just lay down in the middle of an abandoned road and collect mold, or whatever grows on people that don’t move for years, but Benny refused to let him do so. “C’mon man,” he whined, “you’ve got to tell me how it went down!” “No, Benny, Jeez. I already got in trouble. I can’t believe Rob just lied about something like that! I thought we were friends…” “Apparently not. He and Julian are best buds.” He gave a wide grin. “Kinda like us! So if you wanna bitch about it, you’ve got to tell me the full story.” Windell moaned, throwing his arm over his eyes, but his small smile told Benny he was feeling a bit better. The microwave was about to beep, but Benny opened it on the last second. “Will you tell me for a…Windy snack?” Benny taunted, waving a pizza roll in front of his nose. Windell moved his arm ever slightly to peek. He rolled his eyes and chortled. “Alright, alright. Toss me one first.” Windell opened his mouth, and his friend dropped a roll into his mouth. “Mmmgn. Perfect.” Windell sat up against the couch and popped another snack into his mouth. “It started normally enough,” he began, wiping his lips with a sleeve, “I was exiting algebra and Julian was waiting for me outside. Apparently, Glenda told him of our…altercation.” “Oh, you mean that time where you completely owned her, and almost choked her out?” Benny asked, chuckling, “I could barely believe you! But she stopped bothering you, and she told her boyfriend? Julian must have been pissed.” “Pissed doesn’t even begin to describe it. He was livid, his face was practically red, and he was yelling at me so much, it was pretty much indecipherable. Of course, the other students just gave us a wide berth, and when I tried to walk away, he pushed me back. He poked me hard in the chest, and he was screaming so much, there was spittle all over. Pokes turned to hard shoves, which turned to punches. I managed to dodge a lot, because he was basically wildly wailing on me, swinging rather than seriously punching. And that’s when he delivered a hard blow to my nose, and then followed up with one to my eye. That’s when I sort of…snapped. “I’ll admit I’ve never been in a fight before, but I know enough from ̶ you’re going to laugh at this ̶ books. I’ve got the endurance, I’ve got the muscle, heck, I run every morning and swim five nights a week. I know how to punch, and most importantly I know where to punch. So when I fought back, I fought back hard. The chatter around us kind of, uh, disappeared. Emotionally, I felt kinda, well, cold, distant, there but not there. It’s hard to describe. Anyway, I started with a straight punch to his nose. Put half my body into it, taking a step forwards, the whole technique. And I didn’t relent. I followed up with a knee in the groin. Yeah, I know, vicious, but I didn’t care. A jab to the stomach was followed by a strike to his neck, and when he arched by in pain, I delivered another haymaker to his throat. At this point, he was staggering back, and I just kept pushing forwards until he was leaning against the wall. I was going to deliver a kick to his chest, but that’s when I was pulled back by security guards. Apparently, it took two of them. Adrenalin is a hell of a drug.” “Sounds like you kicked his ass.” “I still feel bad about it. I should be more in control.” “Don’t worry about it, Windell.” Benny patted his back. “Tell you what. Let’s go play some Brawl. Maybe we can finish subspace emissary in one day!” “Thanks Benny.” Windell looked up to Benny and beamed. “You’re awesome.” The two began to set up the console for some serious gaming. “Hey Benny?” “Yeah?” “You believe me when I say I didn’t start the fight, right?” “Of course. I’ll always believe you.” <><><> “And so we, the three musketeers, have gathered here to celebrate our last high school midterm!” Benny rose a glass of cola in the air, smile reflecting those of Scott and Windell, who held cold glasses of orange soda and lemonade respectively. “We’re halfway there guys!” The three clinked their glasses together. “I don’t understand why we’re drinking cold beverages at Benny’s.” Windell mused. “It’s cold as hell here.” Benny chuckled and rolled his eyes as he left to get a straw. “Oh, be quiet and drink your lemonade.” Scott said as he took a sip from his glass. “It’s stupid that you still think lemons are better fruits then oranges.” Windell smiled. It was a mock argument they’d had so many times before. “Lemons are awesome! Haven’t you listened to Portal's Cave Johnson? They have so much potential! The golden yellow color, the way it can be used to accent so many foods, and it’s the primary accessory for every drink!” “And that is where the lemon fails,” Scott scoffed, “It’s nothing more than an aid in food. Never the main, only the accessory. Oranges, however, need nothing. Orange juice doesn’t need sugar, orange salads are exotic and delicious, and unlike your pitiful lemons, they can be eaten right after they’ve been unskinned.” “Why can’t we all agree-”Benny fell onto the couch, straw in his barely spilling drink, “-that melons are the superior fruit?” Windell and Scott unanimously shook their heads. “Citrus master race” Scott said, and he loudly slurped his orange soda. There was a buzz from Windell, and he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone. Satisfied, he was about to put it back, when Scott stopped him. “Hey, is that a new phone? Can I see it?” Windell shrugged and let him play with it, then turned to Benny. “So what are you planning on doing for college, Benny? I haven’t actually heard.” “Not much,” he said nonchalantly, “just business and finances.” “Huh. I can’t really picture you doing business.” “Trust me Windell,” Benny gave a familiar grin, “I’m a people person.” “Whelp!” Scott stood up and tossed Windell’s phone to its owner. “I’ve got to go. See ya guys.” And the teen picked up his bag and left out the front door in a barely repressed hurry. “What was that about?” Windell asked aloud, before his phone started swarming with texts. “What? Why am I getting all of these…” his eyes widened at the last message sent on his phone. “What?” Benny asked the nearly catatonic Windell. He pulled the phone out of his grasp and stared at the screen with a neutral expression. I want to rape you “Bastard” muttered Benny. “He sent it to everyone except Amadeus. Your reputation is fucked.” “…I’ll say my phone was hacked.” Windell rasped, shaking himself from his stupor, weakly trying to get off the couch. Benny whipped around to look at Windell. “Windell, that’s nine kinds of retarded. Why would you defend this? If you say that, few people will believe you.” “But maybe Scott will stay. He’s been with my friend for almost as long as you, Benny. I don’t want to lose that. Everyone else either doesn’t care or hates me for some reason. This could have been a prank gone wrong. There’s nothing wrong with a little white lie, right?” “Listen, Windell,” Benny sighed, “Friends don’t do that to friends. You were nothing more than a toy to him. He just threw you away and watched the shitstorm.” Windell curled up into a ball. “Why?” “Because he could.”