Soup Spoon |Discontinued|

| Ch. 7: Midnight Breeze |

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            The next day on the walk to school, Sampson had rounded the bend in the road fast enough to stumble over his own feet, ready to ask Foster a million and ten questions. How had he gotten out of his room so fast? How did he know that Sampson would be allowed to go to the campfire? He might not have, he might have assumed the boy would sneak out like he'd suggested, but still. Things kept getting weirder and weirder with Foster, and Sampson didn't know what to make of him at this point.
           What awaited him as he looked up was an empty road, though; no tall lanky figure leaning against a tree, or already walking ahead, or even sprawled on the dirt with a spoon in his hand. Only when Sampson realizes that he's disappointed at Foster's absence does he understand just how fast this boy has wormed his way into Sam's daily routine.
            'You need to get a grip,'  Sampson thinks to himself, standing stalk still in the middle of the road and gazing at the thick treeline on each side of the road. 'You barely know this kid, and you're already stumbling over yourself to see him again!'
            Despite his inner turmoil, Sampson waits a few more minutes there in the middle of the trail before heaving a sigh and beginning his walk to school once more, the books thrown over his shoulder a slightly heavier weight than before. It seems silly for Sampson to be so upset, but in his short time in Wisteria Willows Foster had slowly become an unexpected part of his daily routine. The blonde could only hope that the strange happenstances from yesterday didn't cause the boy so much embarrassment that he'd decided to stop accompanying Sampson to school and the like. He certainly hadn't seemed embarrassed about it...
            Eventually coming upon the school house, his gaze sweeps over the large group of children his age and younger waiting in the yard for the teacher to open the doors. Everyone was sectioned off into their own little cliques and groups, ones that had probably been established since kindygarten and before. There were the slightly more wealthy girls and boys, whose mothers and fathers were undoubtedly friends and so therefore they were too, with their puff sleeves and polished boots. Then there were the much more sensibly dressed farm girls and boys, their frames built with wiry muscle and fingernails caked with dirt. It seemed as though everyone knew their place, and as Sampson walked past the well-established groups with the feeling of eyes on him, he couldn't help but feel as though he was the wrench thrown into an already well-oiled machine.
            Sampson didn't care about the state of your clothing or where you came from; he just wanted some good friends. While David and William seemed to like him well enough - speak of the devils, there they are waving him over to the large group of older boys with big grins on their faces - Sampson couldn't help but feel a bit left out on inside jokes and town stories. 
           "Sampson, greetings! We were just talking about where we're going to meet up," Jackson greets him as the blonde walks over to the group. "You, Will, and David are all neighbors, yeah?"
           "Uh, yes, we are. We walk home together." Sampson nods, throwing a small smile in the direction of the two.
           "Good, you can walk with them then. We're meeting up at Ivory Lake at around eight or so, okay? They'll show you the way," Jackson gives him a hearty pat on the shoulder. "Don't be late."
           'Don't be late, got it?'
           "Got it." Sampson nods to Jackson, a small smile upturning his lips, and the raven haired boy returns it before turning back to his mostly one-sided conversation with Alexander.
           "Finally got that story done, yeah? You're not scribbling in that book of yours anymore," David walks up to him with William in tow, blue eyes crinkling at the corner from his smile. "I'm excited to see what you're bringing to the table."
           "Well I'm not going to lie, I have you two to thank for the idea," Sampson confesses, rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly. "You and Will, I mean."
           "Oh?" Will asks, he and David looking at one another with eyebrows raised, before they both grin. "Well now we're even more curious. Why don't we make this more interesting, yeah?"
            "What do you mean?" Sampson asks, head tilting to the side in confusion and his curiosity peaked.
            "We've been thinking," David starts now, one hand adjusting the books over his shoulder and the other pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket. Unfolding it, he hands it to Sampson, and as the blonde takes it he realizes that it's a list of names. "That we should make this a competition of sorts. That's just a list of people that are telling stories tomorrow night. A lot more are coming than we originally planned, so at the end of the night, everyone is going to vote on which story was the scariest."
            "That's really clever, actually," Sampson's smile widens in excitement, and he hands the paper back to the ebony haired boy. "What does the winner get out of this competition, though?"
            "We don't know yet, we still have to run the idea by Jackson, since it's his gathering," William shrugs and points a thumb over his shoulder at the gregarious upperclassman, who was now talking to Jasper about what instruments to bring. A practically evil smile spreads across Will's thin freckled face as he continues, saying "But we do know whoever gets the least amount of votes has to jump into Ivory Lake at night in the cold of March, so no matter who wins we still get a show of some kind."
            "Wow. You two have really outdone yourselves, huh?" Sampson lets out an impressed whistle, looking between the two with an air of respect. The boys smile proudly at him and then each other, before the three of them all turn their heads at once to the sound of the school bell ringing. There in the open doorway stood Mrs. Corey, waving everyone in the school yard over to the entrance to begin their daily lessons. 
            Sampson starts walking towards the school house, trailing after his two friends a bit with a content smile on his face, when a strange feeling creeps up the back of his neck and makes him stop in his tracks. He feels eyes on him, but not the ones he's gotten used to from his peers. Head whipping around to look behind him, Sampson swears he catches a flash of red at the edge of the forest surrounding the school yard, but with a blink of the eye it's gone. The blonde stands there for a moment, not knowing what to think of it, before he turns around once more to the sounds of his friends calling his name. Putting the moment out of his mind best he can, Sampson picks up the speed to catch up with David and William, trying to look forward to day of learning and goofing off in the back of the classroom.