Finding Hiccup - Modern!Au ✔️

three

So now Mum knows what LOC is. And knowledge is power, according to Kofi Annan. Although, as Leonardo da Vinci said: 'Where there is shouting, there is no true knowledge,' which might apply better to our family. (Please don't think I'm super-well-read or anything. Mum bought me a book of quotations last month and I flick through it when I'm watching telly.)
Anyway, 'knowledge is power' isn't really happening here, because Mum has no power over Heather at all. It's Saturday evening, and she's been playing LOC ever since lunchtime. She disappeared into the playroom straight after pudding. Then there was a ring at the doorbell and I scuttled out of the way into the den, which is basically the cupboard under the stairs, and my own private place.
Now it's nearly six and I've crept into the kitchen for some Oreos, to find Mum striding around, all twitchy. She's exhaling and looking at the clock and exhaling again.
'They're all computer addicts!' she says in a sudden burst. 'I've asked them to turn off about twenty-five times! Why can't they do it? It's a simple switch! On, off.'
'Maybe they're on a level—' I begin.

'Levels!' Mum cuts me off savagely. 'I'm tired of hearing about levels! I'm giving them one more minute. That's it.'
I take out an Oreo and prise it open. 'So, who's with Heather?'
'A friend from school. I haven't met her before. Ally, I think she's called...'
Astrid. I remember Astrid. She was in that school play, To Kill a Mockingbird, and she played Scout Finch. Heather was Miss Maudie Atkinson.
Heather goes to Cardinal Nicholls School, which is just up the road from my school, Stokeland Boys' School, and sometimes the two schools join together for plays and concerts and stuff. Although to be truthful, Stokeland isn't 'my school' anymore. I haven't been to school since February, because some stuff happened there. Not great stuff.
Whatever.
Anyway. Moving on. After that, I got ill. Now I'm going to change schools and go down a year so I won't fall behind. The new school is called the Heath Academy and they said it would be sensible to start in September, rather than the summer term when it's mainly exams. So, till then, I'm at home.
I mean, I don't do nothing. They've sent me lots of reading suggestions and maths books and French vocab lists. Everyone's agreed it's vital I keep up with my schoolwork and 'It will make you feel so much better, Henry!' (It so doesn't.) So sometimes I send in a history essay or something and they send it back with some red comments. It's all a bit random.
Anyway. The point is, Astrid was in the play and she was a really good Scout Finch. She was confident and a really good actress and everyone believed her. Like, in one scene a prop didn't work on our night, but no-one in the audience laughed or even murmured. That's how good she was.

She came round to our house once, before a rehearsal. Just for about five minutes, but I still remember it.
Actually, that's kind of irrelevant.
I'm about to remind Mum that Astrid played Scout Finch, when I realize she's left the kitchen. A moment later I hear her voice:
'You've played enough, young woman!'
Young woman.
I dart over to the door and look through the crack. As Heather strides downstairs after Mum, her face is quivering with fury.
'We hadn't reached the end of the level! You can't just switch off the game! Do you understand what you did, just then, Mum? Do you even know how Land of Conquerors works?'
She sounds properly irate. She's stopped right in front of where I am, her black hair falling over her pale forehead, her skinny arms flailing, and her small, bony hands gesticulating furiously. I hope Heather's hands and feet grown into her one day. They can't stay so comically small, can they? They have to catch up, surely? She's fifteen, so she could still grow a foot. Mum's five foot seven, but she always says Heather will end up taller than her.
'It's fine,' says a voice I recognize. It's Astrid, but I can't see her through the crack. 'I'll go home. Thanks for having me.'
'Don't go home!'exclaims Mum, in her best charming-to-visitors voice. 'Please don't go home, Ally. That's not what I meant at all.'
'But if we can't play games...' Astrid sounds flummoxed.
'Are you saying the only form of socialising you girls understand is playing computer games? Do you know how sad that is?'