Eddsworld High school! - Tords story

Somebody's got a secret

The slam of his bedroom door echoed through the quiet house, a stark contrast to the cheerful chatter downstairs. Tord didn't bother acknowledging his family's questioning glances; he just rushed straight to his room, the image of Edd's hurt face burning behind his eyelids.

Tossing his backpack onto the floor, he flopped onto his bed, grabbing his phone and dialing a familiar number. Within seconds, Paul's voice filled his ear, punctuated by the muffled sounds of video games.

"Yo,  What's the sitch?"

Tord sighed, launching into a tirade about the day's events. From Matilda's unexpected popularity to Edd's awkward attempt at conversation, he didn't hold back.

Paul listened patiently, then cut in with a sly chuckle. "Sounds like things are getting... interesting over there."

"Interesting?" Tord scoffs. "A Mess, this is! I Barely like This Matilda girl, everyone think we some power couple. Poor Edd,I shoo him off! I mean, I'm not exactly Mr. Congeniality, but that just low."

A pause, then Paul's voice, laced with a hint of calculation. "Look, this could actually work out for us. Think about it: a high-profile girlfriend like Matilda? Instant social cred. People barely give us the time of day, let alone understand us. This connection will boost our status, make us more... approachable."

Tord hesitated, torn between the allure of power and the pang of guilt. "But I lead her on, Paul. And Edd... man, I feel like jerk."

"Hey, playing the field is part of the game, right?" Paul said, his voice dismissive. "Just stick with her until Friday, at least. The party's the perfect opportunity to expand our network, finally get the recognition we deserve. Who cares if it's built on a facade?"

Tord bit his lip, the image of Matilda's genuine smile clashing with Paul's manipulative words. He knew, deep down, that his "friends" saw him as a pawn, a means to an end, just like everyone else. He shared their love for pranks and chaos, their disdain for authority, but somewhere along the line, their shared interests had morphed into something darker, more exploitative.

Yet, the temptation of power, of finally belonging, was undeniable. With a frustrated groan, he conceded. "Fine. Until Friday. But after that..."

"Excellent!" Paul interrupted, clearly not listening. "Now, let's brainstorm some party moves that'll blow everyone's minds..."

Tord hung up, the phone feeling heavy in his hand. He stared at the blank ceiling, a cold emptiness settling in his stomach.

His chest felt heavy, not just from the weight of his choices, but also from a deeper, long-buried ache. He closed his eyes, memories flickering to life like old film strips.

Norway, before the move, was a blur of isolation and loneliness. The boys, with their roughhousing and mocking laughter, saw him as different, an easy target for their cruelty. The girls, oblivious to his yearning, flitted like butterflies in a world he couldn't reach.

Even at home, solace was scarce. His parents, though they loved him in their own way, were distant figures more focused on practicality than passions. Dreams of robots and explosions were met with furrowed brows and lectures about "real careers." He craved understanding, a spark of shared excitement, but found only polite indifference.

Alone and ostracized, Tord built a shell around himself, masking his vulnerability with apathy and a biting sarcasm. He found solace in chaos, in pushing boundaries and defying expectations. It wasn't ideal, but it was his way of carving out a space where he wouldn't be ignored.

The move to the UK offered a glimmer of hope. New faces, a fresh start. But here too, the pattern repeated. He gravitated towards Paul and Patryk, drawn to their shared disregard for rules and their dark sense of humor. They saw his defiance, his hidden rage, and mistook it for strength, moulding him into their image of a rebellious leader.