Telephone (Frerard)

Chapter 3

Frank walked home alone that day; all his friends had other things to do. He stopped in an alley in town and lit a cigarette and watched the cars go by. It was an unusually warm day for being autumn. He took off his thin black jacket and draped it over his left shoulder.

Tossing his cigarette on the ground and stomping it out, he continued walking. He didn't live far from the high school, so it only took him ten minutes to get home. As he climbed the driveway he realized that his parents weren't home, again.

He unlocked the door and went inside to find that the house was freezing, his parents had turned on the fan and forgotten to shut it off. He rushed to unplug it and put his jacket back on.

"To do homework or not to do homework..." he pondered. He decided it was probably a good idea to work on it, the teachers already disliked him enough. He dug around in his bookbag and pulled out a binder and a handful of various broken pens and pencils along with crumbs of some sort from the bottom of the bag.

Opening his binder to a clean piece of paper, he began to copy down complicated algebra problems and attempted to solve the monstrosities. He continued working until the telephone rang.

He picked it up. "Hello?"