The Plan Gone Wrong

Chapter 2

Of all things I thought I would have been called down to the office for, this was definitely the last that would come to mind. Being a tour guide of all things.

It's not like I haven't done it before, but for Willy boy to be trailing me around everywhere I go is something else; that mixed with his bad mouth attitude is going to drive me insane by the end of the month. Might as well try to make some conversation before he starts acting up again.

"So—where are you from?" I question, trying to begin with a common topic that would be asked.

"Some place in Europe that I'm sure you haven't heard of," he assumes, making me raise a brow.

"Try me," I challenge. I would have him know that I have a 4.0 GPA and physical geography is one of my specialties.

After a short pause, he speaks up, shocking me. "Let's cut the crap. I know you're not interested in getting to know me. You probably see me as some rambunctious teen boy who is still trying to deal with the levels of testosterone flowing through me, but I'll have you know, I'm perfectly capable figuring out this school and fitting in on my own. I never asked for your help therefore getting to my point. I relieve you of your civic duties to me and allow you to detach the imaginary leash you have already bounded to yourself and I. Unlike you, I'm not a dog. I don't allow people to command me to oblige by their ways. So have fun and cheerio," he salutes with two fingers, turning around to walk away. Not on my watch.

"Excuse me, but you know nothing about me so don't assume that I think and act the way you put me out to be. I'll have you know that unlike you, I don't just assume the worst in others and that I'm genuinely interested in getting to know people, but clearly, you don't like that, so we can skip the small talk and figure out where to go from here," I tell him, putting up a strong face.

His stiff self visibly relaxes and he puts on a fake smile. "Can we just get this tour done and over with?" He raises a brow and I wave a hand, instructing him to follow.

"Random question, do you know where your locker or what your locker number is?" I quickly ask, thinking it is best to show him that first.

"Yeah, but I have no idea how to open it," he states dumbfound.

"And that's exactly what I'm here for," I assure him, laughing in the process.

"So what's your locker num—," I try to mutter before getting interrupted. "B10," he replies, walking ahead of me.

I stand still, pausing for a moment before speaking up. "Willy, you passed it," I laugh, standing next to it.

"Whatever—and, stop calling me that name. It sounds ridiculous," he grumbles, heading to where I am. I quickly show him how to open the locker and he struggles to open it. "Since you're in grade 12, that means you'll be getting a full locker to yourself, so don't worry about being paired with a random student," I explain, making his eyes go wide.

"Wait are you serious? This locker is literally three times the size of ours back at home," he admits, grinning widely.

"You want to know something else that's crazy, it's mandatory to wear uniform back at home, but here you get to choose whatever you want to wear, as long as it meets the dress code requirements, which are also pretty flexible if you ask me," he says, still looking astonished.

"Yup, that's Vancouver," I smirk, satisfied that this topic has made him less pouty. I show him how to open the lock and after about ten or so tries, he finally managed to open the lock by himself. Don't even get me started on his reaction. He jumped for joy, and that's an understatement.