It had been over a week since I'd last seen Drake. After every class, I spent a good ten minutes scouring the halls for him. Expecting to see another crowd, I was disappointed that traffic was flowing as usual. He was nowhere to be found. I was scared he could pop up out of nowhere and... do whatever it is he did to me, again. I didn't know, and it was eating away at me. I didn't want to admit that I'd lost it, but for those seven days, he was the only thing on my mind.
I retired to the library, so I could finish my math homework before
Monday. We were allowed to use the library and cafeteria on weekends,
but most kids were out having fun or visiting their families. As luck
would have it, Drake walked in. Just as I went to stand up, Jules
entered the room after him.
"Jules Arrow", he said coolly, giving
out his hand. "We met the other day. The principal is my grandfather, on
my mother's side. He wants me to tutor you, make sure you're up to
speed." Drake took it, and his must have been clammy because Jules wiped
his hand off on the back of his dress pants after. "You are two months
late, after all."
Drake raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Where I come from, we uh... start school in November."
"Well, here, we start in September."
"Fascinating. I was home-schooled all last year, and quite rigorously at that." said Drake, looking unhappy.
"Oh, you've got a tutor?" said Jules, relieved.
"A mentor, of sorts. Not a kind man. He would stick my head in water,
and forced me to write lines until my nails fell out of my hands.
Fingers, rather," Drake solemnly recalled.
"Trial by fire, eh?" Jules jabbed.
"More like an execution by the electric chair," Drake replied.
"Your mentor sounds like a tyrant, Drake. Are you okay?" asked Jules, honest and sincere.
Drake looked like he might cry, but didn't. "Yes, I am fine. Please, test me and be on your way."
I couldn't understand why Drake was still using that dumb accent. I knew him for years, and he never had it before.
Jules sat down. "My dad's a loudmouth boss, so I get it. He's always
pushing me to do better – he says, 'YOUR MISSION IS TO SUCCEED, NOT TO
FAIL.' Haha."
"Haha..."
Jules had a calming effect on Drake. I
almost forgot myself, hanging on the edge of my seat. Then I saw Drake
scan the room for witnesses, so I put my hood up and head down. I felt
I'd never learn so much about him if he saw me.
They went over some
science, math, history... various alliance-changes throughout the
centuries. Both had studied, and both had lived in Europe, and they were
equals in knowledge.
Drake recounted the day of November 11th,
1918, known as Armistice Day. The peace treaty that ended the Great War
was signed in Compiègne, France.
Jules shot back with the event
that started it, the assassination of Hungarian Archduke Franz Ferdinand
by a member of the Serbian Black Hand.
Drake countered that Hungary
had long occupied the regions of Romania and Serbia as part of the
Ottoman Empire, even counting Transylvania as their territory until the
Treaty of Trianon. Only heroes like Vlad the Impaler could push them
back, for a time.
Jules smiled, detailing how Vlad indiscriminately
slaughtered men, women and infants for 'supporting the Empire', which
was a stance he'd assumed on their behalf based on nothing but their
heritage and religion. Vlad was the model of presumptive discrimination
and genocide.
Drake swallowed hard, his throat dry, and told of how
England and Germany were happy to bully France and anyone between them
and the Turks for a millennia, and Britain said nothing when Germany
sided with Hungary, until Germany took Belgium. Only then did they get
involved to keep their former allies from getting big enough to threaten
them... which was probably why a second Great War was about to happen.
All the while, each bully back-stabbed the next while trampling
Romanians and Serbians under their bloody feet.
Jules gasped, and
his jaw hung. "Well, I never... you have an interesting perspective, Mr.
Tempest. Are you some kind of gypsy?" he said, swooning.
Drake
stuttered, "S-sir, I assure you...", then he changed his tone. "I am no
gypsy, my friend. Look, not all Romanians are Romani... that is what you
call a 'gypsy'. It is confusing, I know, even to grow up with it." He
gave Jules a swift pat on the shoulder. "Let us forget about it... we
are in the New World, after all."
Jules warmed, gradually, then
laughed. "I was born here, Drake." Drake smiled back at him, thinly.
Maybe Jules just flocks to whoever's most interesting, I thought.
I
saw my chance and stood up, wanting to join the fun, and walked over.
"Did you know..." I started, "that Compiègne is also where-"
Drake
glared at me, and I felt the hairs stand on the back of my neck. I
wanted to make a good impression, so I could get my best friend back and
make a new one, while I was at it. At the same time, and very suddenly,
I wanted to flee, and hide in a damp cave in the fetal position. The
strange contradiction of emotions overtook me, and I felt very thirsty.
My throat became dry, and I got dizzy. I caught myself on Jules's chair –
but it turned out to be his thin shoulders. Hm, guess he doesn't work
out. I saw his water bottle past his neck, and leaned in... Jules turned
to me, alarmed. "Can I help you?" I froze, my eyes wide. I could barely
move from fright.
Drake glared even harder, and pulled me off of
Jules. "Away with you, wretched harlot, he is MINE and MINE ALONE!" I
fell to the ground.
Jules blushed, and put a hand to his chest.
"That was fast." He looked over, though, and saw Tony just outside the
library, crossing his arms and pissed-off. It looked like they were all
jealous of each other, wanting to keep all the friendship to themselves.
Or maybe it was something more? He turned back to Drake. "Well, this
has been fun, but you guys are weirdoes." Jules got up, packed his
books, and left.
"What about the tutoring?" Drake whined.
Jules shrugged. "You'll have to get someone else to help you."
I got up, but Drake pushed me back down. Tony and Jules just watched,
enjoying what was about to be a show. He took a deep, foggy breath...
"You are beginning to cause me an annoyance."
I looked up at his furious eyes. "Your fake accent pisses me off," I said.
"My accent? Please! You know nothing of me, or my culture," he huffed.
"We were in the same class for two years, I think I know you pretty
well. You wear the same jogging pants every single day, for one thing."
I looked down at his pants, and sure enough.
He glared, and said "Maybe I was hiding my true self from you THEN because I knew you were inTOLERANT!"
I shot back, "or maybe you needed time to practice."
I tried to stand up, but he growled at me, and I froze. Angry, he
pinned me to the floor by my shoulders and knelt over me. I turned my
face away as he breathed into my ear. "You think you know EVERYTHING-"
Then, a rumbling came from the halls. It must have meant something to
Drake, because he was instantly transfixed at what was happening behind
him, just outside the library. Jules and Tony were forced to step aside,
or risk being crushed as jersey-clad, hockey stick-wielding, thundering
meat-heads lead their glorious stampede.
I wrestled free of Drake's grasp and fled.
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