Manhattan

04.

AIDAN WALKED INTO class just before the teacher, Ms. Rousseau, closed the door. Aidan gave her a sheepish smile, while she smacked him on the head affectionately.

"You were almost late, Aidan," she said, her thick French accent emphasizing the roll of the r's. She shook a manicured finger at him. Aidan ducked his head in apology and made his way over to his seat next to Benji, who was currently immersed on a game in his phone.

"Die, bastard!" Benji tapped wildly at the screen as Aidan sat down next to him, placing his camera on the table.

"Well, hello to you too," Aidan replied. Benji looked up, first mouthing a quick sorry to a furious-looking Ms.Rousseau, then turned back to Aidan, gave him a scowl, and went back to his game.

"Seriously, Benj." Aidan rolled his eyes. "How long is this going to go on?"

Benji ignored him, just like he had been for the past few days. Aidan didn't know what had gotten into Benji, but lately he'd been acting up, acting as if Aidan didn't exist and hadn't been his best friend for, oh, only more than half his life. He didn't even know why he was mad, and Benji wasn't telling him either. It was seriously starting to infuriate him.

"Benji?" No sound, except for explosions coming from Benji's game.

"Benji."

More explosions.

"Benji!"

Furious tapping.

Aidan growled in frustration, then punched Benji on the shoulder. Aidan held his breath, waiting for Benji to punch him back, like he normally would, but there was no reaction from the second boy, except for turning off his phone, tucking it in his pocket and staring straight ahead at Ms. Rousseau, who had begun to talk.

Aidan swallowed. Somehow, Benji ignoring him was worse than Benji yelling at him. He didn't like this side of Benji, the side that wasn't loud and obnoxious and annoying and funny. The side that wasn't Aidan's best friend.

Looking away from Benji, Aidan turned his attention to Ms. Rousseau.

"...new project," she was saying. "It'll be exciting!"

There was a collective groan from the class. Ms. Rousseau was always introducing new projects, each one more bizarre than the next, and though the class - including Aidan - always complained and grumbled, Aidan had a feeling that they all secretly enjoyed Ms. Rousseau's strange ideas.

"Now, now," Ms. Rousseau said, holding up a hand. "I promise that this one won't be as - how do you say - extravagant as the others."

Aidan let out a sigh of relief, along with everyone else, ignoring the slight twinge of disappointment in his chest.

Ms. Rousseau began explaining the project to them. It seemed easy enough to Aidan; they were to put together a scrapbook of themed pictures, absolutely anything at all, and they'd be marked on their creativity, quality, all the works. When the teacher mentioned that they'd be able to work with a partner if they wanted to, Aidan turned immediately to Benji, but he had already gone to Neal Bower at the back of the class. Aidan's heart twisted. Him and Benji always worked together. Benji didn't even like Neal. Aidan must have done something seriously wrong. Of course, it would help if he knew what exactly that was.