by Earl, Collin
Monson went rigid as he felt something rub up against his leg. He dipped down and gazed into bright yellow eyes that stood out sharply against pitch-black fur. He smiled. It was the cat Monson had seen Grayson holding.
“Molly, relax. It’s a cat. And he’s a friend.” Monson offered a hand, which the cat met with enthusiasm. “Well, hello there, it’s been a while. How are you—wait, you weren’t the one who called out a second ago. Then who—”
“Thanks guys. I really didn’t feel like waiting.”
The doors parted with another ding.
Monson, Artorius, Molly and even the black cat stared awestruck at Damion “The Diamond” Peterson.
Chapter 40 - Journal
January 1
I really don’t know how to start this. I think it’s stupid to start by greeting yourself or your journal, as if it’s a person. Seriously, who does that? Then again, never mind, moving on—
I have been meaning to do this for a while but something seemed to always get in the way. I’ve been thinking that getting my thoughts down on paper might help to remember some of past. Nothing so far; then again, I’ve only been writing for ten minutes. Is it sad that I’m already thinking about scrapping the whole idea? What can I say? I’m 15 and have the attention span of a three-year-old. Oh yeah, I’m 15! HA! That’s the big news today. I am 15 years of age. Sweet right? I don’t feel any different than when I was 14, but I doubt anyone ever does. We’re supposed to have some sort of party later but who knows if that will actually happen. Artorius and Casey both left for vacation 2 weeks ago. It’s not that big of a deal, but it has been lonely. The new semester starts this week, too. I’m actually really excited for it. It’s been way too quiet around here. In the spirit of new beginnings, I thought it would be nice to do a simple recap of what’s been happening the last couple of months.
I think the thing that stands out most in my mind is Cyann’s garden. Wow—you should see it. I don’t want to put in too many details in case someone reads this, but it’s something. I just kind of ran into it while walking behind the Yard. Can I, just as a side note, say that I hate that name, The Yard. I would call by its real title but I just realized that I don’t know what it is. Dumb. Something about that seems wrong. Anyway, so I was behind the Yard, walking back from sixth period, and just sort of ran into it. I’ve gone back a couple of times since and no one else has approached that I can see. For someone who is secretive she is not very sneaky. And wow, the place is magical—she’s something, that girl, even if she has the disposition of a wet rabbit. (Disclaimer: If you ever read this, Cyann, I did not write that; it was my evil self. Hit him with your bokken.)
Moving on, I think that the biggest scandal/news for the school over the last couple of months was the Gossip Guy debacle back in late October. The story is a long one so I don’t want to get into the details, but let’s just say that people lost A LOT of faith in the site when it reported that Damion “The Diamond” Peterson was in the hospital. OK, that statement is a little misleading; it’s true he was in the hospital. That wasn’t the problem. It was the REASON he was in the hospital that got everyone worked up. Damion left school to get his appendix out. That’s right. He left for routine, albeit emergency surgery, so consider his shock when he found out that most of the school thought he was dead or close to it. Molly, Artorius and I were the first to see him in “one piece” upon his return. Yeah…that was an awkward conversation.
Which brings me to my next item of discussion. I’m totally crazy. YES I SAID I’m completely crazy. I just mentioned that Damion had not in fact been attacked in my private weight room but had left for an emergency surgery. So consequently, he wasn't even in the weight room, let alone trying to kill me there. (Granted I didn’t ACTUALLY ask him that question. Oh, by the way Damion, do you remember pulling out a knife in casual conversation and trying to stab me? I’d be carted away. The plot is not as simple as I’d like, though. The only evidence I have that I’m not completely delusional is that the weight room was in fact destroyed. So I’m thinking I did that during one of my little crazy person episodes and just don’t remember. I don’t know why Damion was involved. Still trying to figure that one out.
Classes for the semester ended on a high note, my favorite being Mr. Gatt’s class. The end-of-semester project was especially revelatory. Are you ready for the information? I don’t know if you are. OK, I will just say it: ATLANTIS, IT EXISTS. I know, right? I was shocked as well. Let me explain. Instead of a test, Mr. Gatt paired us into teams and we did a sort of mock trial thing where we tried to determine if Atlantis existed, and my team totally won. Between you, me and the pen here, I actually convinced myself for a bit that Atlantis was a real place. I know—crazy, right? Highlights of that experience were the following: Derek totally lost his cool. I have no idea why, but he started blubbering like an idiot. It was awesome. Next was the “expert” testimony that Taris put on. I seriously can’t EVEN describe it. Taris Green, scientist: way too hot. I’m telling you. I think most of the guys in the class took up a collection to force Taris into the scientific field, claiming that there is a governmental interest in it. I thought their argument was pretty convincing. The government in this country has been trying, with no success, to improve the math and science scores among primary, secondary and higher education students for like the last 20 years. So the senior class at Coren University actually put forth the hypothesis that if the professors looked like Taris, there would be a lot more interest. (Letter to Future Self. I have enclosed a picture of said scientist, Taris Green. When you read this in 20 years and behold her, remember to thank me. Sincerely, Your Past Self.)
Beyond that, everything has been completely normal. No really, I mean it. I haven’t seen or heard from my “angry” selves in a long time, which is weird. It’s been so long that I have to wonder if they were ever real in the first place. But my nightmares are still there. I am constantly dreaming of this massive mountain pathway, a trail in the wilderness, that for some reason I can’t get myself to traverse. There’s also this sort of roaring in the background that is driving me batty. The only thing that comes to mind is white water. I have to admit, it’s starting to get frustrating.
The buck doesn’t stop there, either...I am now learning Casey’s Galo form (this is the striking form that Casey favors so much). I’m pretty good at it, too. Maybe because it’s a lot like using a blade…I don’t know. But, it seems that I have completely lost the ability to see Casey’s flash fist (something that he was all too eager to point out). We’ve tested it a couple of times now. I mean, I can’t even feel it anymore. Don’t ask. I have NO IDEA why.
So, what else? Oh, to spite Casey I adopted a cat. OK, not really to spite him. I adopted the cat because I like the cat, but I did name him BOB and that was definitely to spite Casey. (He thinks it’s a stupid name). Casey has been a bit distant lately, ever since the night we went to meet up with Baroty and ran into Kylie. Again, that’s not exactly true. She didn’t actually see us. I wonder if they would make up if I told her that Casey was the one who kept her from being hog-tied. Probably not. A more interesting question is why she was skulking around that night and what the documents were all about. Side note: Isn’t skulking a great word? I love it.
The new school semester starts this week, I’m pretty sure I mentioned that. I’m wondering how the students are going to adapt to the changes here at Coren, which are extensive. When Baroty announced his project to redo Coren’s Campus, he wasn’t messing around. He’s creating lighted walkways, weird obelisk works of art, and the western dormitory is almost completely gutted. The MIB presence here has also heightened for some reason. Not that I’m complaining, they don’t affect me all that much. But Baroty is not even here most of the time, so why are they hanging around?
Overall, the break was pretty upbeat for me. Casey lent me one of his bokken, so I got in a lot of sword practice. Now that I have some money, I really should buy a new one. I still have the splitters and broken hi
lt of the last one. As of now, I can’t bring myself to part with it; who would have thought I was so sentimental—
“Master Grey?” Brian poked his head into Monson’s room. “Master Kay and Master Pain are here to see you.”
Monson looked up from his journal as BOB the cat nuzzled him on the cheek. “All right Brian, one more second.”
Monson scratched BOB’s ears then he flipped a page and started writing again.
I forgot to say, Baroty came back with another offer and this time Molly accepted. I’m not going to write the amount, but I’ve basically got more money than I know what to do with. I thought about buying a mountain. I’ve never known anyone who owns a mountain; maybe I could put my face on it like Mount Rushmore. Heh heh. Mount Grey…I wonder how hard that would be. Hmm…I might have to look into it. I’d better go. People are here. I’ll check in with you later. (You?? Blah! There I go personifying my journal; I feel so lame.)
Monson put down his pen and feeling excited at seeing his friends again.
***
The first week back, classes were brutal—seriously, horribly brutal. Monson did not know whether their teachers were trying a new sort of shock therapy for learning or they just wanted to prove a point. Regardless, the students suffered a rude awakening during those first few days of class. By the time Friday came around, everyone was ready for the weekend.
“Oh, it’s good to be back.” Artorius stretched as the clock struck one in the morning and the boys ended their movie marathon. The others laughed as they switched to the Japanese Direct Subtitle channel. They all ended up nodding off shortly afterwards, the rich tones of the Japanese voices lulling them to sleep. At some point during the wee hours, Monson left his friends sprawled on the couches and moved to his bedroom.
“Grey, get your butt out of bed!”
A familiar voice startled Monson back into reality. He was annoyed—he had been enjoying an utterly delicious, dream-free sleep—but Monson recognized the voice, and it was wise to be on the alert when Casey came for a wake-up call.
Monson held his breath, hearing the patter of bare feet pop the floor and go airborne. Monson reacted in an instant, rolling to his left and fleeing his blankets. He hit the floor with grace, landing on one knee, cringing at the touch of cold wood. The move was well worth it, as he caught a priceless glimpse of a shocked Casey floating through the air, his elbow positioned forward where it could do the most damage to his unsuspecting friend. Monson smiled, readying his counterattack. Casey landed on top of the blankets just as Monson whipped down a pillow, crashing it right on Casey’s head.
“Ouch! Dude,” Casey’s muffled voice emerged from under Monson’s weapon. “How did you know? Unfair, I’m calling for a recount.”
“You seem to be in good spirits.” Artorius assumed his customary position by the full-framed window overlooking the forest.
“I do find myself feeling really good today. I had an excellent night’s sleep—one of the best I’ve had in a long time.”
“You must be feeling good,” agreed Artorius, sounding impressed. “Your reaction was outstanding. We’ll make a fighter out of you yet.”
Monson beamed, taking a sarcastic bow, which he ended up paying dearly for as Casey sprung out from under his pillow and pounced. After their scuffle, the boys moved from Monson’s bedroom to where Brian’s customary muffins, fruit and juices sat waiting. They each grabbed some breakfast and proceeded to the sitting area where they ate and chatted idly about what they should do that day.
“How about a workout?” Artorius tried to speak between massive bites of a bran muffin. “Grey has been looking so good these days. I’d hate to waste the time. You just wait, Casey. I’m going to make him good enough to beat the both of us.”
Casey started to whine. “And two hours a day, five days a week is enough. Besides, we start basketball soon. We should take advantage of days like this.”
“Casey’s right.” Monson yawned. “You know, I’m not opposed to just hanging out here today.”
“That’s not what I meant, Grey,” Casey threw a piece of his muffin at Monson. “We stay here all the time. We have the ability to leave campus this semester. Let’s get out and go do something stupid like blow up a mailbox or some—”
Brian’s entrance into the apartment shut Casey up. The boys turned towards Brian, who was carrying some plastic grocery bags, a crisp dress suit in a dry cleaning bag, and a glossy pair of trendy black shoes.
“Yo, Brian.” Monson threw up a hand, too lazy to actively watch. “I hope you got some more Pop-Tarts. What’s with the monkey suit? You got a date or something?”
Monson paused. This scene suddenly felt very familiar.
“What an intriguing thought.” Brian sounded amused. He hung the dress clothes neatly on Monson’s valet just inside his bedroom and placed the shoes underneath. Apparently satisfied, he moved into the bar area, began pulling out fruits, vegetables, a knife, and cutting board, and then promptly started chopping. Monson was about to ask Brian a question when he noticed the smile on Brian’s face. He was grinning like a devious child.
“Brian?” Monson moved towards the bar. “Why are you smiling like a naughty four-year-old?”
Brian did not answer but just continued to chop, slice and dice in preparation for something absurdly healthy and totally unfit for human consumption. Brian sliced the last apple, then washed his hands at the sink, that same knowing smile fixed to his face. “Master Grey, it’s about that time. Why don’t you open the blinder to the TV?”
“Brian?” Monson stared at him, unsure as to what to do. “Why are you acting—”
“Hero,” Brian shot him that same warm smile and wiped his hands on a towel. “Open the blinder to the TV.”
Confused, Monson nodded at Casey and beckoned for the huge controller sitting on his coffee table. Casey grabbed it and gave a toss that Monson caught nonchalantly. He pushed the reveal icon at the top of the screen, and with everyone else in the room, watched as the automatic blinder retracted.
“I’m never going to get over that,” Casey smiled. “So cool.”
Once the reverbs of the last gear sounded and shifted into place, Monson turned back towards Brian and asked, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on now?”
Brian gestured to the controller in Monson’s hand, which Monson handed to him.
Brian turned the TV on, flipping channels until he reached the...
“All Access Network?” Monson let out a fairly believable fake vomiting sound. “Why do we care about anything that the school network says?”
“Today’s top story is an interesting one, boys and girls,” said the smooth voice of Derek Dayton through the television. “I know that everyone has been waiting for the nominees of this year’s Spring Solstice, which yours truly has just received. After some weeks of deadlock, this year’s nominees have been offered to the Senate and each individual nominee has been backed by a specific Senator. The results have just come in. Even yours truly has not yet seen—”
“Brian, I know what you’re going to say,” said Monson, catching on. “And there is no way that I’m going to that dance.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have just been handed the results. And now, the Augusta nominees!” resounded Derek’s voice in his arrogant tone. Monson ignored him and continued to glare unflinchingly at Brian.
“Well, there’s no surprise,” Casey kept his eyes on the TV with a mix of amusement and annoyance. “Taris Green, Cyann Harrison, Mary Braden, Amber Summers, and Kylie Coremack for the girls.” Casey looked thoughtful. “Yeah…maybe we shouldn’t go; this could get ugly.”
“I’ll second that.” Monson shifted back to look at Casey. “Let’s just have a boy’s night out. I’ll call in the helicopter and we’ll go to—”
“I don’t think that’s going to work,” interrupted Brian while examining the cuff of his sleeve. “You’ll be busy that night.”
“I already told you.” Monson turned back towards B
rian. “I’m not—”
“And the final nominee for Augustine…drum roll, please...wait—what? That’s impossible.”
Derek looked at the camera, his eyes growing to the size of stoplights.
“The final nominee for the Spring Solstice’s Augustine is Monson Grey.”
***
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Monson, cutting off his own explanation.” You have to be nominated, and then backed by the Senate. Didn’t Indigo say that freshmen aren’t even allowed to enter?”
“Actually, Indigo said that they hardly ever get through.” Artorius continued watching the TV.
“Is that what she said? Are you sure?”
“I remember everything that comes out of Indigo’s mouth.” Artorius stared off into the distance, a faraway look on his face.
“That’s not creepy or anything.” Monson rounded on Brian. “How on earth did you know? How do you always know? I don’t get it!”
“I have my sources.” Brian puttered about retrieving cups. “Now how about a fruit smoothie, it will make…”
“Brian,” said Monson in exasperation. “Why are you so calm? As matter of fact, why are all of you so calm? Hello, you do realize what just happened, right?”
Casey spoke up. “Honestly, I can’t say I’m terribly shocked. I’ve just kind of gotten used to weird stuff happening around you.”
“And I’m actually kind of happy,” added Artorius. “That means we get to go in your group.”
“Guys! You don’t understand. I don’t go dances! I don’t ask girls out! For heaven’s sake look at me!”
“Master Grey,” Brian used that same calm, comforting voice. “Take a breath.”
Monson glared at him.
“Come on, you will feel better.”
Monson did what he was told, closing his eyes. He took one deep, steadying breath and then another. After a few of these, he did in fact start to feel better. When he opened his eyes, everyone in the room was watching him. Monson was at a loss for words.