Chapter Fifteen- Psychic Psycho Boy ~Neil~ Part 2

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It really, really is.

"I know I sound demented, but don't you think Neil is trying to tell us something?" I whisper to Charlie.

His eyes widen and he glances at me for a split-second, but he says nothing. He probably realized that this may be the case, but does not want to admit it.

"Time for the truth, my friends, no, Noa. I mean, Charlie, you've heard this story a million times before, and you know that special secret of mine. That is why, you cannot go anywhere. I don't want you spilling it out. So, Cassandra, come."

A tall, slim, pale-skinned woman walks through the door.  Her hair is not that long but long enough to call long, and is as wavy as an ocean's tide. It's color is a deep chestnut brown, and to top it all she has wonderful gray eyes. Her red dress stands out through the dimness of  the room, and so do her red lips.

"This is my younger sister, Cassandra. She's a year older than you both. Remember her, Charlie, boy?" Neil says.

"Stop!" I come forward defending Charlie, "Don't make unnecessary things be told!" I don't know why I  said that, because I kind of want to know who she is, this girl who looks to be in her mid-twenties but is actually 17.

Neil shakes his head at my objection, while I begin to feel quite proud about it, because Charlie looks very shaken up right now.

Cassandra sits down on the couch opposite of the one I'm on, looking at me directly as she says, "It starts with a ball."

A . . . ball?

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The ball rolled to the other side of the street. Instead of picking it up himself, a boy from the other side picked it up and threw it to him. "Thanks!" he said.

The boy on the other side turned around to walk away, for he was done reading his book, but the boy with the ball asked, "What's your name?"

Without turning back around, the boy on the other side answered, "Neil."

"Charlie!" The boy with the ball said.

Then Neil walked into his house.

The next day, Charlie recognized the boy sitting next to him in the cafeteria. He was new in town, and new in the school. "Neil!"

Neil put a finger to Charlie's lips. "Don't be so loud. From now on, call me Lien."

"Why?" Charlie asked.

Neil sighed. "You're a simpleton. I . . . am the son of the Rosen group, the second top wealthiest firm in the country. I can't have people finding out my identity."

Charlie laughed. He said to Neil, "I'm the son of the Armstrong whatever, the top wealthiest firm in the country."

"What?"'

"Yeah, that's right. Who's the simpleton now?"

Neil stared at this boy in awe. Who did he think he was? He was not well-mannered, was hot-headed, and yet very clever and smart. But then, the strangest thing to happen at that moment happened. Neil laughed. And Charlie laughed along with him.

Middle school grew closer. When it came, though, it seemed like elementary school all over again for Neil and Charlie.  There was a girl, who sat next to Charlie in the cafeteria, and always looked at him. When Charlie found this girl looking at him, he said to her, "You must like me."

The girl scoffed. "Don't act conceited."

"Cassandra, your manners," Neil said to the girl.

Cassandra scoffed again.

"She's a troublesome sister," Neil added.

Charlie put himself into thought. "Hey . . . aren't we supposed to be enemies?"

Neil almost choked on his water. "What's this all of a sudden?"

"Follow me here. Aren't our families' groups against each other? If our fathers find us as friends, we'll be in deep water."

As Charlie spoke, Neil shook his head in disagreement. "They won't find out. It's not like it affects anyone."

Suddenly, two voices from behind the two boys said, "Really?"

The startled boys turned around and there their fathers stood. Charlie nudged Neil. "You jinxed it."

The fathers beat the boys in front of everyone in the cafeteria. They had come, only to check on their sons' progress in school, only to find their sons as best friends.

"Charlie! Charlie! Don't let them tear us apart!" Neil said.

But Charlie said nothing. His emotionless expression stayed that way. He just stared at Neil.

Neil's father began to pull him away. "Charlie!" Neil exclaimed. "Charlie!!"

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I turn to Charlie, even more angry with him. "How could you not say anything? Wasn't your friend being taken away from you? Now I see why Neil hates you so much."

 I saw Charlie clench his fists, Neil smirking. "That's only half of the story, isn't it, . . . Lien?"

Neil's eyes, for the first time I've seen it, widen, and he looks at me coldly. When he looks at me, I instantly remember something--something so important and so shocking, that I tug on Charlie's shirt and say, "Take me home." I must've gone crazy, asking him that. But I can't be here any longer, after remembering what I did.

"If I could, I would," he says.

"That's right, though. It doesn't stop there. Our business with you is done. Sheesh, we went through all this trouble of telling Noa the truth. And, Neil, you almost went off the script," Cassandra says as if she's done ten laps around the this house. What is this house, exactly?

Neil replies, "That's because Charlie said something ridiculous."

Wait, script?

"Excuse me, but what's going on here?" I ask, finally becoming free of the cuffs. I sit up in throbbing pain.

"Huh? Oh, this? This is a set up. We decided to tell you what happened because you deserve to know, but we wanted to do it in a fun way," Cassandra explains. "This house . . . is a haunted one, I guess. No one lives here, so we rigged it ourselves just for this event."

Charlie steps forward. "So you mean to tell me that you did all this just to tell Noa what I couldn't? You hurt her just for that? You guys are psychos. Aren't you her cou--"

I tug on Charlie's shirt once more. "Stop, it's alright. Just please, take me home."

Minutes later, piggy-backing me because of my red ankles, Charlie and I set foot outside and head for school. "I said to take me home," I say,  feeling grumpy.

"Your things are at school, aren't they? Plus, we can go to the nurse, and see everyone. They'll go crazy when they see you. When we found your shoe, and not you, in the classroom, we freaked out. Even Julia," he says. I moan, and he sighs and continues, "Anyway, you realized it, didn't you? That secret those two share."

My eyes quiver as he says this, and I hesitate to answer. But I do. "Yeah, I did. I remember now, that I'm their cousin."

I'm able to see Charlie smile a bit, and he says optimistically, "Don't worry about it. You can hate them as much as I do."

"That's right . . . why do you hate them?"

Charlie stops walking and turns to a drug store across the street. "I'll buy us something. We can sit down in the park and talk."

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