When Forever Ends (Part 1: A Game of Chess)

II

-‹§›-

T w o

"Yuss!" I yelled.

Shortly after waking up, I had remembered that school was over until the end of the summer, which meant one thing for me: more time for friends and more time for research!

I jumped out of bed and quickly dressed in a T-shirt with a smiley face on it and a pair of jeans.

I bounded down the stairs and was almost out the door when a stern voice stopped me.

"Whoa! Where's the fire?" my dad asked. He was the kind of dad that loved to have fun with me, tossing a ball between us, running together, swimming together, pretty much anything I wanted to do, he was cool with.

I knew he hated it when he had to go to work; he was one of those people who sells houses. Ever since my mom had died, he tried to spend as much time with me as possible.

I had tried to ask my dad about Mom several times, about how it happened, because that part of my memory was strangely empty. When I asked, he suddenly closed down and wouldn't say anything. He would just go to his study and I wouldn't see or hear from him for a while.

I had a vague memory that we had lived somewhere else, but I couldn't remember where and Dad wouldn't talk to me about it, so I pushed it to the back of my mind.

"Going to see my friends," I replied.

"Sure," he said. He snatched the collar of my shirt as I tried to make my exit. "After you have some food."

"Aw, come on, Dad!" I complained.

"You can't have fun on an empty stomach!" he gently pushed me towards the kitchen.

"Fine," I gave in and grabbed a kettle, filled it with water, and set it on the stove.

After I had had a generous amount of oatmeal, I realized that he was giving me a long, serious look.

"What?" I asked.

"Are you and your friends doing research again?"

"Yeah," I replied. "What of it?"

He sighed and shook his head. "Sometimes I think you spend too much time in that library. You need to let go of the past," he muttered, getting a far-off look in his eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing'" he said quickly. "I just would like to see you get your head out of what's happened and focus on what's happening."

"But..." I began, but I could tell he was already lost to that dark corner of his mind that he seemed to frequent these days.

"See ya," I said, heading out the door and leaving him hunched over at the table, staring absently at the bowl of oatmeal he had made for himself.

By the time it was cold, he still hadn't touched it.

•••

At the library, I arrived, once again, after all of my friends.

Will was in a heated argument with Maya about the best way to eat pancakes (I'm assuming that's what one of them ate for breakfast) and Sofie was weaving the pages of two books together while she watched the debate. That just shows you how odd my friends can be.

"If you use your fingers, your fingers get all sticky and the butter feels cool!" Will said.

"Well some of us," Maya retorted, "don't like sticky fingers! That's why I use a fork and knife!"