By the time I was back in school, I had missed a lot. The only ones who seemed to notice that I was absent were my teachers and Mason, who continued to sit with me at lunch. I found myself counting on that one hour to get me through the day. It disgusted me how much I came to rely on him. For the first time in a long time, I had a friend.
I knew it wouldn’t last. I knew that he would eventually grow tired of me. That he would miss his football friends. But instead of leaving, he started bringing some to my table. A few of them were sitting there when I got to the table at the beginning of lunch one day. I almost walked passed not realizing that it was indeed my table.
I pulled Mason to the side and whispered, “Who the hell are all these people?”
“They are friends of mine. I think you’ll like them.”
“I don’t want to like them.”
“Come on, you must want some friends?”
“No, I do not want friends. Are they all…football players?”
“Not all, but they are all athletes. Why does that matter? I'm an athlete, ya know?”
In that instant, I recognized one of them. It was the pig-creature. The troll that I saw kissing Clarissa.
“Come on, sit down.” He pushed me into a seat next to him. I resigned to my book all of lunch.
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.
