27 Chocolates

Not much was certain for Tom. He was an average student, living in an average town, with an average family and an average group of friends. There was Chilli, the loud one, Abigail, the tough one, and Marlon, the one who couldn't manage keep his pants up without a belt. Tom considered himself the weakest link of the group. The last one they called for outings, the first one they called to complain about one another, and of course, the one who didn't fit into their creative writing club.

Chilli's ideas were bold and far-fetched, with discombobulated phrases and a misuse of the word irony. Abigail had too much fun with knights and princesses, using the same fairy-tale approach in almost all of her short stories and fictions. Marlon didn't like writing much in the first place, and often lacked the motivation to finish anything he started. Tom found himself mediocre at best and severely lacking varied word choice and the drive to improve himself.

Their rag-tag group of strange children in a middle school with putrid lunches and a ferocious social system would never alter. It was set in stone, carved with the tools of the greats: those majestic, shining figures who sat at the long tables in the lunchroom.

He never thought things would ever change.

But that was before he met Gilbert.