“You should come to the game this Friday.” He didn’t phrase it like a question, I noticed.
“What on Earth could compel me to do that?” I said, looking up from the Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe. I had decided a while back that if Mason was going to insist on sitting with me, I wasn’t going to halt my life for him.
“Because I’m asking you to, and that’s what friends do for one another.”
“What makes you think that we are friends?” I actually laughed.
“I don’t think I have ever heard you laugh.”
“No, you haven’t. Neither have I.” That wasn’t true.
“It suits you.”
“Yeah, well.” I turned the page.
“I’ll pay for your ticket.”
“You have to pay to get into high school football games? Why would anyone ever go? And why are you so intent on having me be there?”
“It is not healthy for a kid your age to have no social life.”
“I have a social life! How dare you imply that I don’t.” I said, slamming the book shut for effect. He was right, I didn’t have a social life.
“Go to the game, then, and prove me wrong.”
He gave me the money, got up, and walked out of the cafeteria. The bastard.
Thomas Hickory
YOU ARE READING
The Chronicles of Thomas Hickory
Teen FictionThomas Hickory is an average high school student dealing with lack of sleep, hard classes, crushes, and the hardships of Driver's Ed. Join him as he journalizes his life for the world to see.
