Sketches

27. The villain to your hero

Josiah

Killian waved through the open window of his truck not indicating that he was going to leave soon. He leaned against the edge of the open window and smiled. An irritated groan slipped through my lips because if he remained there any second longer he was bound to embarrass me. I didn't need that especially in front of Daniel. Honestly, what seventeen-year-old still needed a babysitter. I waved him off again hoping with everything I had that he would get the message. Killian chuckled loudly before driving off.

With him finally gone I could concentrate on more pressing issues. Such as the sound of my heart beating loudly in my chest. I stood in front of Henri's door willing it to finally go down before I could muster the courage to ring the doorbell. I glanced at my reflection in the door knob checking the collar of my shirt. Not that I wanted to look nice, I just needed to make sure I looked normal enough, especially in someone else's house. Once I made sure everything was in place, I rang the doorbell and took a step back from the door.

Hanging out with Daniel was great, but that didn't mean hanging out with Daniel and his friends would be good too. If anything, his friends still felt like strangers to me. Despite sitting on the same table at lunch occasionally, I didn't really interact with them. So suffice to say hanging out with them was still a new thing for me. From what I heard from Killian, the only other social person I knew, 'hangouts' usually turned into large parties pretty quickly.

I fiddled with the string on my hoodie mentally reminding myself that Killian had said I could text him immediately if things turned out to be...suffocating. A small part of me was already ready to text him but Kennedy had said I should at least get inside the house and spend ten minutes before deciding to bail. So instead of following my gut I stood by the door waiting for someone to come open it as I contemplated how rude it would be if i just turned and left.

Before I could give in to that thought the door swung open revealing Henri smiling, with one hand in a cast and the other on the doorknob. His lips were parted ready to say something but he never got the chance because Caspian pounced on his back, toppling both of them over. Henri fell, letting out a soft oof and Caspian smiled as he locked his arms around Henri's body.

"Hey, Josiah! You made it!" Caspian exclaimed looking up from the tangle of limbs that was him and Henri.

I simply nodded as I watched the two wrestle each other. I took a step back hoping with everything I had that that wouldn't happen to me too.

"Wel...ome Jo..ah" Henri's voice came out muffled as he tried to escape Caspian's grip.

I smiled, nodding to Henri's head. He couldn't see me but there was no way I was going to try and say something, especially not when there was a chance they would assume I was into whatever game they were playing. My heart was beating out of my chest and I didn't know what to actually do in that type of situation.

Henri managed to roll under Caspian, facing up to see me and revealing a protected hand, his injured hand. How he had managed to protect it during the fall or the tumble was a mystery to me. With his hair splayed against the welcome carpet and his cheeks flaming red, I am guessing from carpet burns he smiled at me and said, "Come in. Come in. Don't bother removing your shoes. My little brothers are secret assassins so there are legos hidden everywhere."

I smiled, jumping over the two boys and entering what seemed to be the largest house I had ever been in. Henri's house was huge, the kind you see in Garden and home magazines. The living room alone was wide and spacious; it reminded me of the school's assembly hall. I let my eyes scan the room briefly before turning back to the two boys who were still wrestling each other by the entrance. I wasn't sure where I was meant to go and I was afraid if I tried exploring I was going to get lost so instead of going off on my own I just stood there matching Henri and Caspian.