-last edited on Feb 28, 2019 3:13:25 GMT by TheGreatCon
Post by TheGreatCon on Feb 28, 2019 3:10:56 GMT
~<>~
August wasn’t there to pick me up. I glanced around once, twice, and then hurriedly went to lean against a pole like I wasn’t panicking.
She’d be here.
She wouldn’t be here.
We had no means of communication. I didn’t know her com link number. They’d given me a paper with all that information on it. It was under the dresser back at the house.
I didn’t know the address. I barely knew the general direction.
She’d be here. It would just be a couple minutes.
A couple minutes passed. And then twenty more.
The air gate guard was looking at me like I was a lost puppy. I gave him my best “my ride’s on their way here” look, but he misread it.
“Hey, kid, are you getting picked up?”
“Oh, yes, definitely.” I said. “Anytime now.”
“You’ve been here a long time.” He scratched at the top of his helmet.
“Look, if you need a ride, just say so.” He said. “I’ll arrange something.”
“I think I’ll just walk.” I said, and prepared climb down forty-three flights of steps.
He tapped something in his ear. “Hey, we’ve got a hitchhiker in denial up here. Round-up a driver.”
I glared at him.
“You’re welcome buddy.” He walked back to his post at the door, where he resumed his blank-faced “I’m here for your safety, you disrespectful whippersnappers” look.
I sulked. Who was he to help me? I didn’t want to ride home with some stranger.
A girl waltzed out the doors and up to the guard. He pointed at me and nodded once in finality, sealing my fate.
Guess I wouldn’t be riding home with a stranger.
“Hey Argo.” I said, refusing to be intimidated.
“Hello Nate.” She said, with just the slightest bit of humorous irony in her voice. “Need a lift?”
“No, actually, I’ve got this covered.” I said in a last-ditch effort to not have the most awkward hovercar ride in my life. I did not want to be in her debt.
She pulled out a small pad, and pressed a button. “You’re a horrible liar.”
“You’d think I’d get better with practice.” I said. “Where’s your wheels?”
I had my first human interaction with a peer later that day. The girl next to me leaned over, smack-dab in the middle of a Chemistry lab that I attentively ignoring. “What’s your name?”
“She told you yesterday.” I said, suddenly interested in the test tubes before me.
“Yeah, well, I forgot.” She said. “What’s your name?” She asked again.
“Gregory Firth.”
“That wasn’t it.” She glared at me.
I rolled my eyes. “Nate.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Nate.” She whispered, since we were, after all, still in class.
And then there was a blessed thirty seconds of silence.
“Well, aren’t you going to ask my name?”
I scratched at the back of my hand. “No, I wasn’t really planning on it.” Another thirty seconds of intense staring on her part and intense ignoring on mine. I finally caved in. “You really want to tell me, don’t you?”
“It’s Julianna.” She provided, almost before I finished speaking. “But I go by Argo.”
“Cause that makes all sorts of sense.” I said. “You’ve already got two names mashed together in your first, might as well go by a third.”
“Do you have to try and be a jerk, or does it come naturally?”
“I’m just socially inept. It’s a disability.” I said.
“Where are you from?”
“A really bad place. I liked it there.” A bit of a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
“You don’t live there anymore?”
“I live in a nice place now. I hate it.”
Suddenly the teacher’s voice cut through out little chat. “Have you two gotten nice and introduced?”
I stood up. I dramatically pointed at Julianna/Argo. “She started it, ma’am! I’m just a victim.” I sat back down, and hoped I’d ticked her off enough to leave me alone from now on.
August wasn’t there to pick me up. I glanced around once, twice, and then hurriedly went to lean against a pole like I wasn’t panicking.
She’d be here.
She wouldn’t be here.
We had no means of communication. I didn’t know her com link number. They’d given me a paper with all that information on it. It was under the dresser back at the house.
I didn’t know the address. I barely knew the general direction.
She’d be here. It would just be a couple minutes.
A couple minutes passed. And then twenty more.
The air gate guard was looking at me like I was a lost puppy. I gave him my best “my ride’s on their way here” look, but he misread it.
“Hey, kid, are you getting picked up?”
“Oh, yes, definitely.” I said. “Anytime now.”
“You’ve been here a long time.” He scratched at the top of his helmet.
“Look, if you need a ride, just say so.” He said. “I’ll arrange something.”
“I think I’ll just walk.” I said, and prepared climb down forty-three flights of steps.
He tapped something in his ear. “Hey, we’ve got a hitchhiker in denial up here. Round-up a driver.”
I glared at him.
“You’re welcome buddy.” He walked back to his post at the door, where he resumed his blank-faced “I’m here for your safety, you disrespectful whippersnappers” look.
I sulked. Who was he to help me? I didn’t want to ride home with some stranger.
A girl waltzed out the doors and up to the guard. He pointed at me and nodded once in finality, sealing my fate.
Guess I wouldn’t be riding home with a stranger.
“Hey Argo.” I said, refusing to be intimidated.
“Hello Nate.” She said, with just the slightest bit of humorous irony in her voice. “Need a lift?”
“No, actually, I’ve got this covered.” I said in a last-ditch effort to not have the most awkward hovercar ride in my life. I did not want to be in her debt.
She pulled out a small pad, and pressed a button. “You’re a horrible liar.”
“You’d think I’d get better with practice.” I said. “Where’s your wheels?”
Plot twist!!!!! She's also a cyborg and she is the wheels.
“Do you have to try and be a jerk, or does it come naturally?”
“I’m just socially inept. It’s a disability.” I said.
*
I stood up. I dramatically pointed at Julianna/Argo. “She started it, ma’am! I’m just a victim.” I sat back down, and hoped I’d ticked her off enough to leave me alone from now on.
He tapped something in his ear. “Hey, we’ve got a hitchhiker in denial up here. Round-up a driver.”
I glared at him.
“You’re welcome buddy.” He walked back to his post at the door, where he resumed his blank-faced “I’m here for your safety, you disrespectful whippersnappers” look.
I sulked. Who was he to help me? I didn’t want to ride home with some stranger.
A girl waltzed out the doors and up to the guard. He pointed at me and nodded once in finality, sealing my fate.
Guess I wouldn’t be riding home with a stranger.
“Hey Argo.” I said, refusing to be intimidated.
“Hello Nate.” She said, with just the slightest bit of humorous irony in her voice. “Need a lift?”
“No, actually, I’ve got this covered.” I said in a last-ditch effort to not have the most awkward hovercar ride in my life. I did not want to be in her debt.
She pulled out a small pad, and pressed a button. “You’re a horrible liar.”
“You’d think I’d get better with practice.” I said. “Where’s your wheels?”
Good grief, son, just take the bricking ride. They're trying to be nice. At least nobody's trying to deliberately make your life a living heck yet.
no, you must not listen to anything I say! Good, I don't know how you even could make it worse, you already have it set up so good.
I could kill off a few characters. I could have December and Nate get married next chapter. ew gross I could make Nate turns into a zombie due to a synapse in his brain getting fried.
But could you actually physically pull that off and live with yourself?
I wasn't sure either, I just added an e 'cause horse has an e, but I don't really know. I call them castles, but towers makes more sense.
See, I wasn't sure. Spellcheck didn't like either. Lol, both are better than "rook."
Some days Spellcheck is your best friend, and other days it's just no help at all. I just looked up the definition of rook to see where it came from, and apparently it did used to be called a tower; but "the term castle is considered informal, incorrect, or old-fashioned".
![[y]](http://storage.proboards.com/6672327/images/WYWPH2VRo26pOFDid7QZ.png)
