Variegated (boyxboy)

[8] Pencil.

     By the time a few days passed, the two friends managed to place the 'happening' far back into a corner of their minds, and acted as if it never happened. The fact that the stripe on Matthews's cheek had faded helped a lot their case, though they couldn't avoid the occasional uncomfortable moments in which the subject would come up. Even then, they would manage to wave it off and continue on their merry way.

     About William and Oliver, well, Will brushed off the fact that the blond stole his scarf for the night, not looking into it. In fact, the last time Matthews saw them together, they were chatting cleverly of some book the brunette was holding as they leaned against another.

     Currently, Matthews was in his math class, waiting for everyone else to finish the problem on the blackboard so that the teacher could affirm his being right. Yes, he was that confident.

     He tapped his pencil on the table, looking out the window casually. Sadly, his two best friends didn't share the same math class with him, but they did a few others. Yes, they were two years apart, but at the orphanage that didn't mean much. There were far too many children for there to be separate classes for each age, but younger kids handled it thanks to their cleverness.

     Matthews himself was in a math class more advanced than his age asked. He was surrounded by people in their early and late 20s. Oliver was near him, in fact, attacking the page of his notebook with an eraser.

     "Matthews, could you stop with the tapping of that pencil?" his rather young professor asked nonchalantly, not looking up from the math book he was holding.

     The black haired man did as asked, neatly placing the pen on his desktop and turning to look out the window once again.

     But then, after a few moments of silence, he squinted.

     He could hear his pencil rolling steadily, which was curious, since it stood in that position for a while with no problem and there had been no force exerted upon it to induce the movement. He moved his head in time to see it rolling off the edge of his desktop, and heard it tap the ground.

     His math teacher looked at him from above his rectangular glasses, and just as he was about to excuse himself, the situation took a rather bizarre twist.

     As if echoes to the tap of his utensil, a chorus of instruments hitting the ground erupted, and he looked around to see his classmates frantically trying to grasp their objects before they slid off their tables. Pens, pencils, erasers, even notebooks scattered across the ground, sliding towards the front of the class, and it was then that Matthews noticed the entire room was inclining.

     His stomach dropped and his breath caught as he saw the panicked expressions around him.

     Was this happening? Why? All of a sudden, with no reason or warning, it was really happening.

     And the only thing he could think of was his friends.

     A static noise managed to overcome the mess in the classroom, and the speaker at the top corner of the room made itself heard. It was Mr. Quin's voice.

     "The ship is having difficulties. Do not panic! Evacuate the classrooms quickly and cling to the walls. Go to the highest floor, in the room at the end of the hall. Don't rush or panic." he commanded, but his voice was giving away the fact he wasn't taking his own advice.

     Matthews took that as his cue to stand up and run towards the door, but a hand tugged him back roughly.

     "Where is William!" Oliver demanded, searching his eyes intently.