Sentiment of a Witness: I Ain't Ever Seen Two Pretty Best Friends

𝚃𝚠𝚘 𝚆𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚜, 𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝙼𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚔

"I can't believe we have this much homework already! We've hardly been here two weeks!"

I looked up from my history textbook to see Tommy exactly where he'd been thirty minutes prior; sprawled across one of the couches with the left half of his body hanging off the edge, moping over the idea of doing work.

I didn't – and still don't – know what he had expected. We were at a school, after all. What else would we be doing? Not getting our education's worth?

"I knowww. Imagine how much work we'll have to do in our senior year," Chris said from a chair across beside the couch. "If I don't make it, tell my mum that sending me here was not her wisest decision."

Tommy groaned, rolling off the couch and sitting up to face Chris. "I would... but I'm probably not gonna make it either."

I rolled my eyes, glancing briefly at Sam sitting cross-legged on the floor, smiling slightly with his textbook in his lap, notebook on top of it and pen in hand. "C'mon, guys... it's not that bad."

"It is!"

Shaking my head, I turned my attention back to my own textbook, only to have it snatched away again from the Wunimal Rights Movement by the curly-headed idiot now sprawled out on the ground beside the couch.

"Hey... uh, John, wasn't it?" Tommy paused, looking at me. I gave him a curt nod, and he continued, "You didn't... uh, happen to catch what the maths homework was by any chance, did you? It would appear that I kinda... uh, forgot to write it down."

I sighed, rolling my eyes and passing him the paper on which I had written down the homework from the past two days. He smiled gratefully at me, taking the paper and holding it like it was life's best-kept secret.

Actually, scratch that – if Tommy found out what life's best-kept secret is, it wouldn't be a secret for much longer.

"Thanks, man, I owe you."

I just shrugged, hoping I'd be able to go back to reading about Bambusa McClawly and her stand against segregated Wunderground carriages a couple of Ages ago. Well, technically speaking, it wasn't a stand at all – she stayed seated after being told to move so a young wizard could have a seat.

Half an hour later, the four of us still answering questions and reading passages, most of us bored out of our minds. Okay, all of us were bored out of our minds. It was a ridiculous amount of work for first year, second week.

"Bro, what the hell is this?? Poets make no sense, I swear-"

"Oh, no, man – poetry requires deep, soulful thinking. You need to slow your brain and actually feel the words. Which is why my mum doesn't think I'll ever understand a single word of poetry."

"Yeah, I don't think I'll ever understand it either... and, uhm, speaking of parents, when do you think we'll be able to visit?"

The room fell silent again, and I glanced up from my science textbook that I was checking answers in. Chris, who had asked the question, now sat with his feet propped up on the little table in the middle of the seats, looking at Tommy, who was back on the couch, sitting cross-legged and frowning slightly. Sam had perked up upon hearing the question asked and sat further forwards on the seat he had moved to, also looking at Tommy.

"I... I dunno – we've got a lot of work to do over the weekends, but from what I've heard, some of the older boys go home every weekend. Some only go home for holidays and family events, though."

"Ah... well, I suppose we can write. I'm honestly starting to miss my brother... never thought that'd happen," Chris chuckled. "He's the 'golden child' despite his... mischievous knack. He'll be trialling for the Wundrous Society in a few years."

"Do you or anyone else in your family have a knack? Or is he like... more of one of those spontaneous, random, unexpected cases?"

"Depends how you look at it, I guess," Chris said. "We've all got musical giftings, but I wouldn't go as far as calling it a knack, but my brother has that plus a knack. Kinda unfair... he doesn't even do anything with it – too busy being a goodie-goodie-two-shoes."

Tommy grinned, "If I had a proper knack, I hope it would be able to be used for pranks. My mum's a witch... she's taught me a little bit of magic; I'm not very good, though. Like, at all. But I'm determined to learn more!" He finished with a proud grin.

Now, at this point, I had to admit that Tommy seemed awfully familiar. I was sure I'd seen met somewhere before, with his mum; I just couldn't work out where.

"It'd be great to see her again... there's so much to tell her. I might try writing to her tonight. What about you, Sam? You planning to go home anytime soon?"

The smaller boy shrugged, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "I, uh... I've been writing to my mum... every night," he coughed, looking down as his face and ears turned red.

"Aww, Sammy. You're such a good son," Tommy cooed, and Chris laughed in agreeance.

"She's only replied to five of the letters... but she's asked me to come home for the weekend at the end of the month when we've... uh, yeah. I'm planning to go back then."

"We should plan to go home for that weekend too, then no one has to be stuck here by themselves," Chris suggested, looking at Tommy and then, to my surprise, to me.

Tommy nodded, and I shrugged.

"Your parents expecting you home anytime soon, John?"

My first thought was to shake my head; I don't think my parents were expecting to see me ever again... and they were probably fine with that – probably overfilled with joy to be rid of me.

But I knew that Jupiter was expecting at least two letters a week. He'd already asked me when I was coming home in the first letter he sent – which arrived when I was about to start writing my first one, telling him about my first day.

I shrugged. "We've... discussed it," I muttered.

Chris nodded, "Right, so the weekend at the end of the month will be a home weekend. Nice."

"Mhm, now, I don't know about you, gentlemen, but this maths isn't making much more sense than it was before. In fact, I'd say it's gotten worse. I'm gonna head to bed and... tomorrow's Saturday, right?"

Sam nodded.

"Great, no classes... but a lot of homework." He got up and walked over to the bathroom.

I shook my head, packing up my books into a neat pile on the table. Maybe, just maybe, if Tommy had actually tried to do his work, he wouldn't have had to spend most of his weekends doing homework.

Written: 7 May 2022 (first attempt made 22 March 2022)

Published: 7 May 2022

Well, it's been a hot minute, hasn't it?

I promise I haven't forgotten about this fic (or any of my other fics), school has just been... hectic. And I've been finding it hard to cope. However, I really enjoyed writing this chapter... I think I might try to make a writing schedule. If I do, I'll try my best to follow it. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Your votes and comments mean the world to me, so don't be afraid to ask/remind me to update. I love knowing that you guys like reading my works. :)