pencil shavings

two: matt

The room was great. I'll give you that. I mean, nothing compared to the dark wood paneling of the study at home, but still inviting. Cozy.

"Alright, let's begin our journey of self-exploration," Skinny announces with his usual dry humor.

The people however? I suck in a breath. Skinny looks at me with a murderous expression below his glasses as I amble toward the front. I roll my eyes and burry my hands into my pockets. Thank you, parents, for yet another crappy summer. 

"Can I see the prompt?" I finally say, extending a hand toward the blond girl, who's currently gawking at all the books and windows like she's in Narnia or something. I cough a little to get her attention and beckon with my fingers.

"Yeah, sorry," she says finally, not breaking her stare toward the walls as I take them from her hand.

"It says we need to have a storyline and character plan by tonight," Peter drawls, as if I couldn't read the big block letters in front of me. "So let's start with a basic plot outline?"

I'm about to snip something rude back into his know-it-all face, when the girl turns toward him with that little smile that seems to come with everything she does. "Sure thing Chief," she quips, giving me a whatever-just-go-with-it look and hopping onto one of the desks. "Matt, you have any ideas?"

Peter snickers at me as I raise my eyebrows in surprise. God.

"Sure," I growl, looking directly at Skinny. I take my time to rack my brain, moving to sit on the desk across from Sam, my knee brushing past hers. Skinny sits next to her and pulls his Vans up onto the bar below the desk.

"Really? Didn't think you were capable of something like that." He raises his eyebrows.
I shoot Skinny a glare and look at the girl instead, her face impassive as ever. 

"Fantasy, right?"

Skinny starts to mutter something, and the girl elbows him, nodding just enough to urge me on.

"I was thinking we could each make up our own character, you know, like a video game avatar or whatever."

"Genius," Peter spits, slow-clapping.

 Sam, ignoring our locked-eyes glare, nods with excitement. "So, Dungeons and Dragons-esk," she clarifies.

I could have swore something in Skinny's eyes lightens at that.

"Yeah," I say. "And then we put them in some fantasy kingdom and throw in an evil army and voila - practically Rowling."

The girl smiles and her eyes - pretty gold eyes - crinkle. "I like it. It'll get it done fast."

 I ignore the warm happiness her words create in me. We both look at Skinny, who's picking at a hole in his black jeans. Finally he lets out, "It's a good idea," and the girl and I exchange a glance that makes my lips tug a little upward. 

"Wait," the girl rushes on, grabbing our attention before I can retreat onto my phone. "First we have to at least know each other's names and stuff - I mean 'new friends,' right?"

Skinny and I give her the same thanks-mom face, and she just returns this patronizing smirk. "I'm Sam Hadds, I live around here, I'm 15. See? Cake."

Pulling his legs onto the desk, Skinny goes next. "16, Peter Westin, and no, Dear Mother Sam, I do not live around here." The girl's grin is so bright it's almost audible. Skinny turns to me expectantly and I look back at the girl - Sam - to avoid his judgmental look.

"Right. I'm Matt, I live here, and I'm 16," I lie. I'm 15, but there is no way Skinny is getting the satisfaction of being oldest. 

This awkward silence hangs over us as Sam looks over the papers again, and Peter starts wandering around, running a finger down the spine of a few books like they're old friends. And, for a minute, I wonder who Skinny Glasses Kid really is. You know, apart from the old button-down and good hair and matching beanie and sweater. 

"You read?" I ask on some remanence of that thought. He looks all defensive and I realize too late the skepticism lacing my words.

"No, I just like stroking random books," he sneers.

Damn it.

"Hey, let's do this thing," Sam calls from the whiteboard. "Characters?"

Peter grabs the books in front of him, jogging over to Sam, and I lose a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. Why is it so hard to be nice?

"Okay guys, I'm gonna be a knight," Sam practically shouts, standing on a chair to scrawl her name in red across the top. "Lady Kaileen of..."

"SummerCampHell Mountain?" Petter finishes dryly, dropping the books and grabbing a blue marker to help write the list.

Sam laughs, rich and full. "Just a little obvious?"

"Is HenderHell Hill any better?" I add, grabbing the green marker to write my name.
Peter chokes a little and Sam bursts into a bright laughing fit.

"Okay," she grins, "So I'm the Lady Kaileen, Knight of the Land of HenderHill - or HenderHell, depending on the novel edition - and I'm on a campaign North, when this monster attacks our caravan and kills everyone before I can fend it off. I don't kill it though."

Peter nods slowly, as if this is a perfectly normal conversation to be having, then fixes his glasses. "Agamemnon, mage and courtier of the Southern Isles. I'm on my way to visit my sister in the city, when I hear at a bar these tales of a fearful monster in the mountains and immediately fear for my sister's life. I have to help."

I'm still lost in those scenes, the thundering of a military campaign, brilliant green of the woods, the depths of Agamemnon's blue robes, (I hate to admit it, but it's fun) when I realize their expectant stares. How they came up with those concepts so fast, I have no idea. The brain farts consume me as I turn to the blank stretch of whiteboard in front of me and think back to something - anything - that could help.

"Hercules," I think I mutter, and they both give me equally confused looks. Keep the cool, keep the cool, keep the cool. I roll my eyes and shove my hands into my pockets. "I'll be your average brawny soldier from the Golden Realms up North. I'm chatting up a visiting duchess when I overhear this story of a monster in the Mountains. I'm always searching for glory, so it's the perfect chance. Hercules II."

"Hercules the Second?" Sam repeats skeptically.

"Yep," I say, writing it out on the board with falsified confidence. He was the kick-ass guy who fought the Hydra and had a pegasus and stuff, right?

"What about a one world name?" she pushes, flipping her ponytail behind her. It catches the light with an iridescent sparkle. "I mean between Hercules the Second, Agamemnon, and Lady Kaileen, our whole book is gonna be names."

"Hercules Two-Point-0?" Peter says from the stool he had perched on.

"Herc Two?"

"H the Man?"

Sam shoots Peter another look that breaks into a chuckle. He watches her from behind those neat glasses and side bangs, lips twitching up uncharacteristically.

"Herc-a-loo-"

"Just call me Hercules, and Sam can be Kai, and Peter can be Agga," I cut in, crossing my arms and forcing a straight face as Peter looks aghast. We were never going to get anything done.

"If you call me Agga-"

Sam starts laughing again. I mean, when was the girl not laughing? "What about Memmy? NomNom? Oh, this is gonna be fun."

Peter scowls, but I think I catch the little crinkle in his eyes when Sam snaps a picture of the board and starts flitting around getting our numbers and writing a flowchart in colored pens. I think I smile too.

Maybe this summer would be okay after all.