Exhausted, I collapsed onto my bed and tried to forget about the universe for a second.
That second could've lasted longer if someone didn't tap on my glass window instead of texting me at eleven in the evening.
"What now?" I complained to the window from my bed. Opening it would show my lack of caution. For all I know this could be a maniac, or a phantom admirer, or a cat— except that the knock sounded gentle and humane.
"It's just me", a boy answers with a deep voice and a British accent.
Remember when I said that there were a few people who succeeded in befriending me? Thomas was one of those few people. He was caring yet quiet around the people he was barely interested in. When we just met, it took me a while to understand what he was really about. Along the way, I got to know him, and he just seemed so passionate about what he loves. And if there was one person who will keep shooting for the stars, that would be Thomas.
I got up from my bed and opened the window. To my surprise, Thomas had a bruise on his temple and he was panting.
"What happened?" I asked him.
"I didn't look at what I was running into", he explained, still trying to catch his breath. "I hit this tree. Tim was chasing me." He says, patting the trunk of the tree he climbed on. It was the one my grandmother grew when she was younger and still lived here.
"Well, why didn't you just call my phone?" I tell Thomas, annoyed.
"That's the thing. He stole my phone and I tracked it on my computer earlier." He answers, then he looked to the left and to the right. "Can I come in?"
Pity suddenly knocked me over. "Sure. Come inside."
Thomas climbed in from the window and dropped on the wooden floor with a thump. I looked outside to see if anyone was trying to search for us before shutting the window closed. The good news is, nobody was trying to catch Thomas anymore.
"You know Tim is my best mate, but that doesn't stop him from pulling a trick on me", Thomas says while standing up and dusting himself off.
This isn't the first time Tim played a prank on someone.
Tim Lewis was Thomas' best friend since third grade. Yeah, they had a lot of fun together, but Tim is a prankster, and most of the fun they would have was when Thomas would help out Tim when pulling pranks on strangers down the street.
"Trust nobody in the halls of Rowan Sydney Academy", I reminded him. Rule number one of our school. It wasn't an official rule, but it was a tip that everyone swore by. The population density of the hallways was enough to explain it. And that's why I always keep my backpack close. It seemed pretty obvious that Tim stole Thomas' phone while they were walking down the hallways together. With all the noise, it was easy not to notice someone stealing your phone from your bag, especially when you try too hard not to lose it.
"Why were you running from him anyway? What's the worst he can do to you?" I asked Thomas as he sat on the edge of my bed. With the yellow light shining from my lamp, the bruise on his temple came into full detail. It was a quarter-sized purple mark.
"He was driving his car with a jar full of spiders by his seat. The worst part? It was held by two massive paper maché hands."
I know how much huge hands frighten Thomas. It was his biggest phobia.
"Did you get your phone back?" I asked him.
His dark eyes turned at me. "Yeah", he answered. "But it was out of battery when I retrieved it. I guess he was just trying to scare me."
