Kimberly Konquers 2 WIP

3: Seasonal Affective Disorder-or Franklin prevents a race war

Franklin checked his phone again for the day's top stories. He'd been checking every half hour on the way to Glanville's Coffee—just to be safe. There had been no headlines reading, School-girl Slaughter House or Local Girl Butchers Family in Their Sleep.

So far so good.

He got off the bus—his parents were always too busy at work to drive him anywhere—and on cue, a damp wind whipped down the street, rustling fallen leaves and blowing trash across the sidewalk. It sent a chill over Franklin's hands and face; his grey hoodie wasn't enough protection for this kind of weather. Franklin glared hatefully up at the sky. A dark blanket of clouds glared hatefully back at him.

Yesterday's hike had reminded Franklin of one important fact: Nature was best experienced through a television screen. He resolved once more to avoid the outdoors at all costs.

He shivered his way into the café, dodging some fake cobwebs that hung over the entrance.

If Kimberly had wanted to escape Halloween, this was definitely the wrong place to do it. Black and purple rubber spiders hung from the walls, skull candles flickered at him from the center of every little table, and pumpkins of all shapes and sizes spammed the area around the counter—even the baristas wore flashing pumpkin pins.

Glanville's Coffee was the usual meeting place for their Klub, a family-owned café wedged right between the average and not-so-decent parts of town. Franklin thought that it might've been a pizza parlor back in the prohibition era. It was old enough and wooden enough to look like a haunted house on the best of days—the decorations just felt like overkill.

He quickly found his friends, and slid into an uncomfortable chair. His usual spot, on Kimberly's right-hand side. The symbolism was lost on him.

"Hey," he muttered to the group. That was Franklin's way of saying, Happy Halloween everybody!

Jann acted like she didn't hear him. Prince met his eyes for a second. And Kimberly gave a slight nod in response.

Franklin wasn't exactly the most empathetic kid in the world, but even he could pick up on the vibe at the table—and it made him want to turn around, run back home, and lose himself in a Jersey Junk Wars marathon.

He glanced at each of his friends' faces. He couldn't decide who looked most upset.

Jann's big brown eyes wavered on the verge of tears. She bobbed back and forth in her chair, lost in her memories. He guessed that she was reliving something to do with that Emma girl. Her hands were crammed into the pockets of her blue hoodie, which she wore over a badly-made genie outfit. Dark curls splayed out from beneath a blue plastic tiara, and pink and teal veils poked out of the neck and sleeves.

Kimberly sat with her arms crossed tightly over her official Konquest Klub uniform: a black short-sleeved ladies' blazer, with a black blouse underneath, and a matching knee-length skirt; the only color came from an array of charity pins and vintage military ribbons she'd fastened to the left lapel. This wasn't her Halloween costume either, just business-as-usual wear for a six-star general—which was what Kimberly insisted she was.

Franklin looked to her for a glimmer of enthusiasm, but all he got back was a restless stare and eyebrows raised asking, What?

Her Halloween discontent seemed to be reaching its peak.

Prince hunched over the table between the two girls, in full Dracula costume, somehow managing to look the most miserable of them all.

Franklin had no idea what his problem was.

He stared down at the coffee directly in front of him. He'd hoped for a pumpkin-flavored latte every week this Fall, but since Kimberly had ordered it for him he reasoned that it was probably caramel-something. He mulled it over, and decided not to drink; it wasn't worth the risk.