Little Weirdos

Chapter Two: Some Odd Things Happen In The Forest Behind The School

The playground was abuzz with gleeful shrieking of classmates. Benny and Mason found the whole thing very overwhelming, so they usually kept to themselves and played their own games.

It may not be important to note here, but the way that the administration grouped their children was in three grade groups. The children in kindergarten through second grade ate and played first, and then came the third through fifth grade. So, even without all the grades outside, it must have been quite the crew (or, perhaps, the different crews and friend groups) to be able to overload the two's senses so quickly. And it really was.

Lunch for the kids was outside, not served by the cooks at school except for the children who had nothing packed. So, they counted on their parents for food, and usually, they delivered.

Benny's mother was the one to pack his lunch, which usually had something to do with leftovers from the night before and family recipes. He never complained, but it had become less of a joke that Mason always wanted to trade with him. And for good reason, too—Mason's father only seemed to pack Lunchables and soggy sandwiches with the odd pack of chips.

"Pleeeeeeaaaaseeee?" Mason had a fistful of Gushers in Benny's face. "I promise I'll bring you something tomorrow!"

"mmmmmNO." Benny swiped his lunchbox away, half giggling. "This is good! If you think it's so good, then why wouldn't I?"

"Aww!" Mason kicked his feet back, tossing the Gushers in his mouth. "Your mom packs such great stuff. I want hot leftover stuff!"

"Stop whining." Benny, disregarding the mess he was making, picked up a single piece of food in his hand (with a lot of sauce.) and passed it to Mason.

Mason, with the same reckless abandon, grabbed it right out, and tossed it into his mouth. "Mm! What is it?"

"Dukboki. It's very good." Benny smiled, also eating one, but he used a utensil this time. "Mom learned it from her dad, who learned it from his brother."

"Tell your mom to teach my dad!"

"Nooooo!" Benny giggled, shaking his head. "It's a family recipe, silly. But I'll ask her to make more so I can bring you some."

"That's fine with me!" Mason jumped up, wiping his face of any crumbs he had which did not work. "Come on, let's go!"

"Go where?"

"The field, Benny! I wanna kick a ball or something!"

"But we just ate so much food. My tummy's got butterflies."

Mason had a lot of energy he had to burn out. He jumped up and down, pulling Benny up. "Come on, come on!"

The field, surprisingly, was scarcely occupied. Everyone else seemed to be on the equipment, or... Actually, where was everyone? It seemed to be so full a minute ago. Oh, well. Quiet is quiet, even if nothing had really changed in terms of volume.

Benny and Mason were kicking a traditional, soft soccer ball around which was blown up just the right amount to where it wouldn't cave in, but was not fully inflated. A few years back, an overprotective parent of an entitled fifth-grader sued the school for said kid getting hit in the face with a fully-inflated ball. The kid was fine, and as such, the school won the lawsuit. But to prevent something like that from happening again, Cranberry Hill no longer inflated the game balls all the way.

Mason was very good at soccer. For a year, he played on a team, but couldn't stay because he'd get bullied for being smaller. However, his size actually helped him in some way by being more versatile. Every kick was perfectly aimed, and he never missed a pass. Though he didn't exactly get a chance to prove himself to his teammates, he never had to prove anything to Benny. Not just because Benny always complimented him on his skills, but also because as good as Mason was, Benny was ten times worse.