The Wallflower and the Prankster

Chapter Five: Wake Up, Darling! It's Time to Shovel

Joshua

I sped up my trend mill and turned up my Ipod. I had to tune out the thoughts rushing through my head. The night had left me cold and unable to fall asleep, I had gotten out at dawn for a morning jog. Though, I didn’t make it out of the door, since Eve approached me at the door.

“Joshua Grey, where do you think you are going?” her voice was stern. I watched the tip of her nails scratch the door, to my relief it didn’t creak like it was on a chalkboard.

“What does it look like?” I questioned. I felt an urge to roll my eyes at her concern. It really wasn’t her call to know my life—it was our parents. Too bad she forgets that every now and then.

“In this weather?” Her voice raised a pitch higher than normal. “Josh, it freezing outside.”

If that’s what it takes to forget, I thought. “That’s the plan,” I mumbled. I heard Eve exhale behind me. She Took a step back, I assumed she was letting the conversation drop.

“Why don’t we have some cookies and milk,” she stated. I groaned inward, the only time she ever said that was when she wanted to talk about my future.

“Sure, whatever.”There was no fight in avoiding the topic. It always came back, just like a wild fire of white lies. Except this wasn’t about lies, it was my future—something that I am living right now.

The only difference from this conversation from all the other ones was that we didn’t have milk and cookies instead she took out a seat for me before seating on the chair on the opposite side of it. I shuffled my feet, suddenly wary of the situation. My eyes examined her narrowed ones, I imagined we were in one of those old western movies right before we draw our guns from our belts.

Leaning on my seat, I crossed my arms in front of my chest defensively. “Are we having the snack or what?” I asked, hoping it’d change the discussion for the better. I forced a smile to break the tension.

“We will,” she cleared her throat before continuing, “how’s school?”

I smirked at her lame conversation starter .It made it obvious she was annoyed at my behavior. I shrugged, not answering. I didn’t know if talking to Mr. Smith and a failed prank was a good day at school, but Eve might see that as a bad way. In fact, I was sure she was delighted to know how my prank botched, and how my computer skills improved.

“So, it’s bad,” she pursed her lips. “Did you fail a test? Missed any classes? Skip any classes? Came late for classes?”

“I’m in an IB school where there are four buildings with three floors, my locker is on the top floor. Also it’s a five minute walking range from each building—what do you think?” I snorted. It was impossible not to skip classes—even if we were in IB, the real work was dumped on us near the end of the month, so it barely mattered.

“I should deliberate that at the next parent council meeting,” Eve noted to herself, “did you see your guidance counsellor yet?”

“You mean, Sophie?” I asked, at my school everyone called each other by their first names, only some people whose first name was complicated was nicknamed or used their last name, like Mr. Smith. “Why? All she’ll do is hand pamphlets. Besides I’m graduating in a year.”

“With no idea for the future,” Eve added. “Do you have any idea what university you are going to apply? Or, what you want to be? Did you even bother to show up at Waterloo Fermat contest?”

“Of course I did,” I replied, offended by her tone. Every student in the IB was highly recommended to take the exam by our math teachers. “What does it matter if I don’t know what I’ll be? I have a whole life ahead of me, and I’m getting straight A’s.”