Captain Pluto

03. WHO DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO PICK LOCKS?

03. WHO DOESN'T KNOW HOW TO PICK LOCKS?

TOBY DOESN'T LEAVE THE BATHROOM stall for almost fifteen minutes. He hears some people buzzing about, brushing their teeth or washing their faces. It's still considerably early but it's a normal day for most people. It's not a normal day for Toby.

Toby tries to quench the fear that has gripped his heart and finally decides to suck it up and face the day. He unlocks the bathroom stall and walks out. Two girls wrapped in towels give him strange looks. Toby figured he spent a considerable amount of time in the stall but there are worse things than people thinking he has constipation or something. 

The hallway is still crowded with students. Toby weaves their way past them. Jared is still outside his room, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He nods at Toby as he removes the cigarette from his lips and blows smoke at the ceiling. "Hey, man. Did you hear? They're cancelling classes today."

Toby had guessed as much. He stares at the wisps of smoke changing their path as they made their way up. "Oh. Okay."

"I found out who died. Some kid Harley Branson. D'you know him?"

Toby feels a lump in his throat. Then he feels guilty. Why is he taking this so hard? He knew Harley for one night. He has a girlfriend mourning him; he probably had a best friend who would be in pieces right now. "Um, yeah. Sort of."

"Oh, I'm sorry, man."

Toby nods, not feeling up for a chat. He enters his room to find Charlie still asleep on his bed, with a blanket pull up to his chin. Toby contemplates calling Zara again but decides against it. It's not the best time. He splashes cold water on his face and ends up wetting half his T-shirt. 

He feels too tired to change so he sits down on Charlie's bed and picks up his Ipod kept beneath the covers. He idly scrolls through the endless tracks ranging from Metallica to Daughter (Charlie hates being conformed to one genre) until he finds something up his alley- good ol' Beatles. He plugs in the headphones and plays 'Let it be.' The sweet, lazy tunes calm down his frayed nerves.

He probably fell asleep with the headphones because when he wakes up to Charlie shaking his shoulder, the only sound he can hear is some metal core band screaming. He hastily removes the headphones from his ears.

"Get up," he says, his hand still on Toby's shoulder. "We've got to get to class."

It dawns on Toby that Charlie had been fast asleep during the morning's events. He swallows hard and doesn't meet his eyes. "Classes are cancelled."

Charlie's eyes widen. "What? Why?"

Toby gestures for him to sit before he starts talking. Charlie's expression doesn't change during any part of the story. He looks incredulous as if he thinks Toby is pulling his leg.

When Toby's done, Charlie takes a deep breath and stares ahead. Then he turns to Toby and shakes his head. "Dude, no."

"What?"

"Harley's not dead."

Toby winces. His shirt has dried up but it still feels like it's sticking to his chest. "What do you mean? Yes, he is."

"He's not." Charlie argues. If Toby had not known him for years, he would have believed the sureness in the boy's voice.

"What are you talking about?" Toby snaps. Harley's death hits him again.

"I talked to him, okay? Just a few minutes ago."

Toby stands up, suddenly feeling tired. He pours himself a glass of water and leans against the wall as he drinks. The cool water feels good. He takes his time draining the glass before he looks at Charlie very seriously. He thinks of a gentle way to break it to him. "Charlie, no you didn't. You were sleeping."