Chapter 4 - Thursday

D&C



XXXXX



THURSDAY



The sports field was filled with a variety of athletic accomplishment and daring dexterity, courtesy of the many fine athletes. The cheerleaders, too, had arrived; doing some rather impressive flips and spins in their routines. A few of the boys had appeared from out of the woodwork to peek at said cheerleaders, thinking their spot under the bleachers somehow made them invisible.



Two boys weren't feeling up to it.



"Detention..." Justin growled, leaning his back on a fence.



"For two weeks," Slick finished up, making a whistling sound.



They both sighed into the breezy air, feeling incredibly weary for their age.



Their little stunt on Wednesday had not gone unnoticed by the faculty. The girls had immediately gone and told the gym teacher of their plot. (conveniently leaving out the part about their watery revenge) The teacher was furious, and had sent them up to the principal's office on the spot. The principal, too, was furious, and thus the long-term punishment.



"Free-will..." Justin began, putting his hand on his cheek.



"Is not what it used to be," Slick added on, shaking his head in mock-disappointment.



"Well, at least you have something to write about," Andy joined in, sipping a small can of cola. "I'm still only halfway done with mine."



"Because you couldn't talk to Mari," Justin said, a note of disgust creeping into his voice.



Andy's face fell. "I wish you wouldn't bring that up," he complained, putting one of his hands into his pocket. "It's not like I didn't try."



Slick tsked, his face in a mockery of disapproval. "Andy, Andy, Andy," he taunted, waving his finger back and forth. "Can't you try not bein' a wuss, just for fun?"



"Heh, Andy not being a wuss is like Tarah not being a dork," Justin sneered, his mouth becoming sharp and craggy. "Totally impossible."



The two laughed uproariously, their earlier fatigue vanishing away. Andy groaned unhappily at another laugh at his expense. It seems that whenever he had a pleasant experience, it was balanced by yet more pain. He was beginning to feel like some loveable loser from a comic strip.



And something about the way they mentioned Tarah triggered a vibe within him. He didn't know why.



Eventually, the mirth died down, and the threesome resumed lazing about on the fence. Eventually, Justin turned to Slick with a 'gimme' expression. "Limestone, you got any smokes?" he asked, holding out his hand.



"Just a sec," Slick said, rummaging through his backpack for said item. A moment later, he came up with two packs of Morvarian Unfiltered. "Snuck them away from pops just last night," he added, handing one of them to his silver-haired friend.



"You can't smoke those here, you know," Andy said, ever the goody-goody kid in situations like this.



"No one's gonna notice us, Champion," Justin reasoned with him, reaching into his jacket pocket for a lighter. "The track supervisor's an idiot."



Seemingly determined to ignore any more criticisms, he turned away from Andy to tend to his cancer stick. In a second, he had the thing lit and ready, and was in the process of placing it in between his lip. But before he could take his first puff, Slick interrupted him with an urgent notice. "Yo, someone's comin'. Douse it!"



"Andrew!" a light voice was calling out from the black top, becoming closer every second.



Justin looked around in a panic, obviously thinking he had been exposed. But soon, his face returned to his original lame candor. "Feh, it's just Reichardt."



"R-Reichardt?" Andy squeaked, suddenly looking very nervous. Whose last name was that, again?



Sure enough, Tarah was bobbing excitedly towards them, her pigtails bouncing excitedly on the sides of her head. In her arms was a writing tablet and a pencil, looking like they were about to fly out of her hands at any moment. With a small skid, she arrived at the trio's little spot under the sun. Her face was red and beaming, and sweat was clinging to her glasses.



Andy's face was probably redder.



"Andrew, I just thought of a few new things for our free-will assignment!" the girl said enthusiastically, pumping her fists for emphasis. "You gotta come see!"



"Buzz off, Reichardt," Justin said snidely, bringing the smoke up to his lips. "We're busy."



"But I need to hurry up and tell him before I forget it!" she babbled quickly, almost bouncing up and down. She took a closer look at the cigarette. "Those things are bad for your health, you know," she commented, pointing it out as if he didn't know it was there.



"Thank you, Surgeon General Tarah," Slick sang out in a mock-announcer's tone of voice. Justin chuckled a couple of times at this, accidentally hacking up some smoke in the process.



Tarah looked a little bothered by this, but quickly puffed back up. "I mean it," she insisted. "Studies have shown that you can get lung cancer as early as thirty if you keep it up." She turned back towards the green-haired boy. "Andrew, can we go?" she asked, her eyes imploring him behind the glasses.



"I...um..." Andy stammered half-wittingly at this request, completely panicking at what to do. Talking to Tarah in his own house was one thing, talking to her in front of his friends was something else. Sweatdrops rolled off his temple as he imagined one embarrassing scenario after another. If Justin and Slick knew that she had kissed him back at the house...



In the end, it was all taken out of his hands. "Whatcha got there, Tarah," Slick said slyly, creeping up to the side of the girl and reaching for her notepad.



"Hey, stop!" Tarah said, shrugging away from the boy and wrapping her arms protective around her pad. "It's private!"



"Private, huh?" The blond boy pondered, slowly easing away from the pigtailed girl. Then, with a deft movement of his hand, he reached out and snatched it from her hand. "Public property if I ever saw it!" he crowed, holding the object above his head and laughing insanely.



"Give it back!" she cried out desperately, trying to reach for it by standing on tiptoe.



Slick was a lanky, young man, so her attempts were up to no avail; he just held it higher. Looking over to Justin, he started to wind back for a throw. "Go long, Justin!" he said, using his other arm to keep Tarah at bay.



He threw the notepad, a smooth toss that fell directly into Justin's waiting arms. Sparing not a moment, the other boy flipped through the tablet, until his narrow eyes widened with glee upon finding the latest entry. "Hey, listen to this," he snickered, his teeth glimmering in the early afternoon sun. "'Andy's such a neato person. I hope that he likes me and my lizards.'"



"Oh, that's rich!" Slick hooted loudly. As Tarah dashed over to Justin, the notepad was thrown again, and the blond boy thumbed through the pages. "'I gave him a kiss that felt really nice?'" he read out load in a shocked sort of voice, looking like he had just seem brain surgery first-hand. "What did you do with that girl on Wednesday, Andy?"



"Stop it!" Tarah practically screamed, starting to hold the sides of her head. Her face was flaming red, and a few tears were forming at the corner of her eyes.



Slick made a pouty face towards the girl, acting like he was moved by her display of emotion. Then, he tossed the pad to the third person in his party. "Catch, Andy!" he called out, a bright smile of excitement on his face.



Andy started a bit at this and, more by reflex than anything else, caught the pad in his forearms. Staring at it like it was the tablet the Ten Commandments were written on, he was left at a loss for what do with it. Something rectified by the various voices calling out to him.



"C'mon, Champion, hurry up and toss it!"



"Andrew, please give it back!"



"Read us another lovely entry, Andy-baby!"



Andy looked back and forth between the three teenage faces; Justin, craggy and overbearingly vicious: Slick's, hardly lucid in its rabid glee; Tarah's, looking like it was about to burst into tears. His face erupted with a fresh wave of sweat, feeling more heat than even the hot sun could account for. The pad felt heavy in his hand, as did the responsibility he carried with it. So he did the first thing that came to his mind:



He threw the pad.



And the game of keep away continued.



XXXXX



Five minutes later, the sports field was a vacant wasteland of dirt, grass, and dust, looking like it had been abandoned for years. The equipment and balls had all been put away, and the athletes have gone inside to exercise their minds instead of their bodies. A wistful gust blew by, making a spectre-like howl through the nets of the soccer goals. Only a boy and girl remained to hear this howl, the latter hunched over by a torn notepad, the former standing over her like a silent soldier.



"Tarah," Andy said quietly, moving closer towards the girl.



"Just go..." she whispered into the wind, closing tear-strained eyes heavily.



The boy moved a little bit closer.



"JUST GO!" Tarah suddenly screamed out, her fingers digging into the rough turf below her hands.



Andy stayed for a moment more, his face a mask of anguish and pain. Then, he took off for the school, leaving the pigtailed girl to tend to the broken spine of a book, as well as the broken heart of an angel.



XXXXX



The winds had their way with the sturdy hardwood trees, swaying their branches as if they were only reeds. It roared and hurrahed through the leaves, sending many of them flying off into the open air. The Champion residence whistled slightly with repeated gales, unable to completely resist Mother Nature's berating. It was a night of torment, a dawn of darkness that drove all to hide in their homes away from the bat like flapping, desperately trying to compensate with hot cocoa and other warm treats.



Andy ignored the rattling of the windowpane beside him, though it sang like a wind chime. Rather, he didn't hear it, so focused he was inward that he rejected anything outside of himself. His eyes were hardened almost into slits, twinkling with some unknown negative emotion. In his shaking hand was a chew marked pencil; rather disgusting, since it was mechanical.



He had been sitting at the desk in his room for almost an hour now, long enough to grow slightly uncomfortable in his seat. But if you were to take a look at him, you could see that discomfort was least of his worries. He was rigidly hunched, like the long suffering writer trying to make good his or her latest story. Able to let the world go by without batting an eye, save to the misfortunes within their own head.



After the incident, he saw no more hint of Tarah Reichardt for the remainder of the day. Even when his eyes surreptitiously glanced over to the places she should've been, she was not there. Starlight Jr. High's energetic squabbling between peers had become hollow and false to him. It was as if she had disappeared completely from his life, and had taken away his life too.



(Because...I threw her out of my life,) he thought quietly to himself. With a sigh, he put down his mangled pencil aside the lightning globe that still bore Tarah's fingerprints. Leaning back in his chair, he planted his feet on the ground to prevent from falling over With a hand to his chin, and a morose expression, he simply brooded over the past few days, looking more like a philosopher than a fourteen-year-old boy.



Tarah was perhaps the worst liked person in school, outside of any school bullies. She was awkward as all get out, relentlessly drowning in unimportant details and entranced by the most ordinary of things. She could babble on and on about the most trivial of subjects until you were ready to swat her like a gnat. Nothing more than someone to be dealt with, and then forgotten as soon as possible.



All this, and she still didn't deserve the treatment he had...or rather, hadn't given her. She had come to him seeking friendship, and he had thrown it back in her face with wishy-washy cruelty. It was a far cry from his behavior yesterday. He might as well have told her he loved her up in that tree house.



(Singing with her, taking her to your favorite place, telling her things you've never told anyone,) Andy's eyes narrowed. (...what was I doing? Of course she thought I liked her)



But he hadn't been thinking. He had just taken her hand and ran with her to the distant shores of imagination, regardless of anything. Bathing in forbidden springs, enjoying forbidden fruit. With those actions he had led her on, deceived her.



He...had liked her.



(No!) he cried out from within his mind, feeling trapped in his own head. (She was supposed to be just the school geek! She's not a person, a friend, or any of that. She...she's...)



He broke off from these painful thoughts with a growl, desperately shaking his head free of the spiders that threatened to devour. Slumping over on his desk, he struggled with his own consciousness, feeling like it was a weight too strong to bear, His eye fell upon his half completed report, mere scribbles on a page of notebook paper. With wide, fearful eyes, he began to read from it, and was promptly disgusted by the words that came from his own mind.



/In the end, I decided that there is no such thing as free-will. People are easily forced into action by other things, and then forced again just as easily into a different action by more things. We fool ourselves that we have control in order to keep on living. But we are powerless to do anything outside of Fate./



With trembling hands, he held the paper in front of him, running over the lines again. He felt himself get extraordinarily angry each time he re-read the words. That's why he was now crumpling up the manuscript into a wad and tossing it to the side. And that's why he was swatting the lightning globe off the desk to fall upon the floor, shattering into sparks, wires, and a million pieces of broken glass.



A mere moment later, the sound of footfalls was heard tromping quickly up the stairs, as in emergency. The door knob shook repeated, the person behind it obviously struggling with their own enthusiasm in opening it up. Swinging it open, Uncle Noah burst into the room, looking for all the world like a firefighter who had just axed his way in. "What the devil's going on here?" he demanded somewhat harshly, though he didn't mean for it to come out like this.



And all he saw was a boy with his head in his hands, shaking with insurmountable grief and looking like his best friend had just died.



"Andy, what are you doing?" Noah asked, his tone lightening up slightly for the boy's benefit. "Why is everything a mess?"



"Andy!" Mary cried, peeking in through the doorframe and looking like she was near tears herself. "Oh, Andy!"



"G-Grandpa...w-was right..." the boy stammered through his sobs, snorting loudly and wetly. "I...can't d-do anything...no such t-thing as free-will."



"Andy, what are you talking about?" Noah persisted, trying to keep him on subject. "You're not making sense,"



"T-Tarah's gone," Andy blubbered, his face hot with shame and defeat. "I g-got ridda her. Justin and Slick, they m-made me...didn't w-want to..."



"That's enough, Noah," Mary said sternly, placing a hand firmly on her husband's shoulder. Scooting beside him, she made her way over to the boy's chair, where he was still hunched over the desk. Placing her arms around his shoulders, she leaned her head against his trembling back. "Hush now, sweety," she whispered into his ear. "Everything will be alright."



Andy didn't seem like he was in any state to believe her words. But slowly, his hand moved upwards to grip the woman's meaty arm, clutching it and bringing it closer to his chest like a good luck charm.



"You've really been struggling with this project, haven't you," she said understandingly, slowly closing her eyes. "Perhaps you could use a break?"



He nodded weakly, his eyes still shut tightly closed.



At the aunt and nephew sat in silence in the middle of the room, Noah stood stiffly in the doorway, watching them silently. Slowly, he turned away and began walking to the window, looking out to the not-so-distant winds surrounding the house. The trees were still shaking with their fury, pleading for the rampage to stop. "Damn, but it's a rough night," he said roughly to the gusty night, his face screwing up into a stoic scowl.



XXXXX



The karaoke bar maintained a lively atmosphere, even at such a late hour. All throughout the small establishment, people of all ages were clambered into the seats, staring at the spotlighted stage where a lone performer warbled Frank Sinatra's "Fly Me to the Moon" into the standup mike.



Andy and his family struggled to maneuver around the claustrophobic arrangement of booths and chairs, trying not to jostle anybody en route. The music swam around them like lukewarm coffee, creating the illusion that they would have to dogpaddle their way to their seats. The boy found the noise a stark contrast to his own tormented thoughts, and he could feel the anger and self-loathing take a back seat to the but strangely relaxing tune. He could now analyze his own situation without falling prey to it.



When everything had calmed down at home, Aunt Mary and Uncle Noah asked if there was anything they could do to make him feel better. Still rather weepy, Andy had weakly suggested, much like a child wanting a treat after a harrowing ordeal. Looking back, he felt slightly ashamed in having them cater to his own weaknesses. Still, the Champion family had piled into the family Joltswagon and headed out to the small bar fifteen minutes away.



"Busy night," Noah said lightly, lifting his arm slightly to avoid clocking an elder gentlemen in the head.



"I suppose everyone wants to drown their sorrows in music tonight," Mary pondered, following right behind the man.



Andy put his hand to his chin, his vision growing slightly unfocused. Why had he chosen to rejuvenate himself with the very pasttime he had enjoyed with Tarah only a night ago? Wasn't that just twisting the knife he had stabbed himself with earlier today? And yet, for some reason, this is what he really wanted to do right now.



They had reached their table, and everyone sat down in the circular booth. Andy, Mary, and Noah did their best to get comfortable in the rough leather seat, all of them slouching back and putting their arms on the head rest. A moment later, a waitress put three glasses of water on coasters bearing the establishments insignia. They drank their water lightly, letting it's crisp sting envelop their tongues and wake them up.



A modest show of hands began clapping, and Andy turned his head back towards the stage. The song had ended, and the singer was retreating back to her seat, leaving the mike free for the next performer. A man wearing a blue sports coat and a rug on his head moved up to the standing mike. "Well, that was "Fly Me to the Moon" by Frank Sinatra," he spoke out to the small audience. "Next up, we have a young man who's making his first appearance here in three years: Andrew Champion!"



A polite series of claps sounded out sporadically through the karaoke bar. "That's you, dear," Mary whispered to the boy, nudging him gently with her elbow.



"Show 'em what the Champion house can do!" Noah bellowed enthusiastically, punching his nephew lightly on the arm.



Andy nodded briefly, and left his drink to stand up and ease his way out of the booth. Steadily, he made his way through the tables towards the small stage. The eyes of the crowd were rather disconcerting, as they seemed to be watching his every move, ready to deliver divine judgment. But he just gulped down his nervousness and proceeded towards the microphone, where the rug man stepped aside and left him to it.



Standing alone on the stage, Andy took a moment to catch his breath and relax himself. He hummed a few bars to himself, trying to make sure he still had enough knowledge of the different keys. He looked out furtively to the people in the crowd, most of which had rather skeptical faces. (they really didn't care for the last number) But Mary and Noah gave him the thumbs up, and most of his fears were alleviated.



A mere moment later, the first lines of the music began emanating from the speakers set up throughout the bar. It was a soft, slow tune, the kind that was popular a few years back and retained a following even now. Andy's face was now passive, a soft porcelain-like serenity to his features. Calmly, he drove into himself, bringing forth the appropriate feelings he deemed necessary for the performance.



(Tarah....)



And then he began to sing.



XXXXX



Andy leaned against the wood paneling, his arms crossed against his chest and his eyes half closed. Somewhat lethargically, he turned his head towards the stage, squinting slightly from the multicolored lights hanging overhead. Mary and Noah were singing a duet, an old timey song that only the previous generation really appreciated. The crowd seemed to enjoy this as much as his own song, though.



He had done really well on the stage, he considered. The crowd had apparently enjoyed the energy and enthusiasm he had poured into his singing, and he had won them over two-fold. A lot of the folks had given him a bit of congratulations or a slap on the back, to which he politely accepted with a smile. It did feel good knowing that something he did had such a positive effect on his surroundings.



He sighed lightly, leaning his head down and closing his eyes. Ultimately, it really didn't matter what the crowd thought of his song. It was just something he had to get out, like a soap-box speech at an assembly. You hoped it would have the desired effect, but it wouldn't change the situation even if it was hated.



Andy finished this thought with a small smile, then lowered his head and closed his eyes, letting the music take him away to a different place. The melodies and chords drifted like fish down a winding river, caught and filleted by his ears for his enjoyment.



A moment later, a voice broke through the clouds that had settled over his mind. "Hey, didn't expect to see you here!" it chirped, strong yet feminine. "Andy, right?"



The boy's arm hairs stood on end as is subconscious recalled the voice. Quickly, he woke up to the world and took a look at his present company. "Maru Mari!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening like saucers at a five-star restaurant.



The forest-maned girl giggled slightly, folding her arms. "That's me!" she said cheerfully, smiling



The noises of the crowd moved around them like water around a rock. "W-what are you doing here?" Andy tried, feeling a slight sense of unworthiness overtake him.



"I started going here about two years ago, when I first moved here from Aviania," she explained, making a small gesture with her hands for emphasis. "I actually want to sing for a living, so I like to get in some practice in front of a live audience whenever I can."



"Oh," Andy said dumbly, his facial expression something in-between entranced and embalmed. The two stood silently for a moment more, the train of conversation reaching a twist in the rails. Determined to keep the stacks puffing, he racked his mind for something to say. "Um, I just sing for my own sake," he tried, smiling nervously and trying not to choke.



"Probably the best reason to sing there is," Mari responded, her face beaming. Andy smiled back, and suddenly, he felt a lot more comfortable with his crush than ever before.



"So, what made you come out tonight?" she asked causally. "The announcer dude said Andrew Champion hadn't been here in three years."



At that, the boy turned his gaze towards the floor, his smile waning slightly. "I had some things I wanted to get off my chest." he said quietly, somber as an old man. "Singing seemed to be the best way to do it."



Mari's face suddenly grew serious, and she moved closer to Andy. "This is about Tarah, isn't it," she stated softly, her eyes narrowing.



He jerked up like he had been shot through the chest with an arrow. "W-what?" he stammered, feeling a hot rush flowing to his cheeks. "Who told you that?" he demanded, his voice cracking weakly.



"Easy, Champ," she said, putting her hands up to signal Andy to 'cool it'. "Tarah tutors me sometimes in biology. She was really depressed today, and didn't even talk my ear off about the joy of the different types of chlorophyll."



Andy regarded Mari's words with an increasingly saddened expression, and he lowered his head. "So she's not okay," he said quietly, more to himself that to the girl before him.



"Doesn't seem like it," she answered honestly, her own face starting to mirror that of her companions. "What happened between you two?" she asked finally.



The boy hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should be telling her things he was only recently able to admit to himself. But he didn't have such a high opinion of Mari for nothing, and he found himself wanting to trust her. "It was just one night," he begun, closing his eyes with a mix of embarrassment at having such fun with a nerd, and embarrassment for his failure. "We were doing that free-will exercise, and it ended up with us..having a lot of fun." He peeked at her through the corner of her eyes. "I don't know what to do."



"What do you want to do?" Mari asked him, pressing him on.



Andy said the first thing that came to mind. "Be her friend," he blurted out, the words tumbling out like barrels down a slope. As the words left his lips, he quickly looked away and touched them, as if he couldn't believe what came out.



Mari was smiling gently at him, her eyes twinkling with some sort of pride. "That's real cool," she said, shaking her head in awe. "So, what's stopping you?"



"You..." The boy jolted a bit, the inclination of her words hitting him like a caffeinated drink poured over his head. "You mean you actually think I can do it?" he asked her, wide-eyed and almost disbelieving.



"You've got free-will, Andy," she stated. "But that doesn't mean every decision made is equally easy. You've got to apply yourself in this world if you want something in it. That's what I believe."



The longtressed girl leaned against the same wall Andy was stationed at, looking up at the twinkling lights above. "Every day is a new opportunity for me to express myself," she said, a slow smile flowing to her lips. "I think about all that I can accomplish before the sun goes down, and it gives me energy that way. Life's never boring that way." She turned towards the boy with a smile. "Right?"



Andy stared at the girl, transfixed by more than her outer beauty. The words were striking a special place in his heart, the part that desperately needed the nourishment of advice that neither his aunt nor uncle was able to give him. Suddenly, he felt a tremendous strength developing from within, along with a certain almost giddy feeling. "Yeah, that's sounds real good," he said slowly, as if the idea was still dawning within him.



He suddenly straightened up. "Yeah!" he cried out, clenching a fist dramatically. "I'll just try a little harder!" Andy turned towards Mari and grabbed her hands. "Thanks a lot!" he told her, shaking them enthusiasticly.



"Uh, yeah!" she stammered, a bead of sweat rolling down the side of her face.



Their hands remained tied together for a moment more. Then, upon realizing what he was doing, the boy suddenly let go of her hands with a chuckle. "Uh, sorry," he said nervously, putting his hands behind his back.



"It's alright," Mari responded, looking a little bit embarrassed herself.



"Andy, it's time to go," a soft voice spoke out from the other end of the karaoke bar.



Andy turned to see his aunt and uncle at the front door, looking like they were about to step outside. "Uh, looks like my ride is about to go," he said with a chuckle. "Sorry..."



"Well, I'm probably going to get called soon anyway," she said, looking over to the empty stage. "See you later!"



The boy nodded briefly, then started to walk on over to his family, leaving her behind. Then, he stopped and whirled around. "Mari!" he suddenly called out, struggling to keep his voice clear.



Mari blinked. "What is it?" she asked, her face clueless and innocent.



"...Alright if we have...talks like this more often?" he asked her, ignoring the blush that came to his face.



The girl stood with a blank expression on her face, and for an agonizing moment, Andy thought he had ruined it all. But soon, she broke out into an honest smile once again. "Sure," she answered cheerfully, nodding her head.



Andy's grin was like a Cheshire cat. With a smile once again on his face, he strolled on through the crowd, who were already cheering for the next performer. Meeting up with Mary and Noah, he walked with them to the door, swinging it open and letting a blast of cold air into the establishment. "Hey Uncle Noah, can we stop by one more place before we go home...?" he asked while leaving the karaoke bar for the twilight town outside.



XXXXX



Within the comfort of home, Tarah was sprawled across her bed, her ladybug adorned sheets rumpled slightly with her movements. Her hair was a frumpy mess, and her glasses were almost falling off her nose. In front of her was a fish tank modified to carry a respectable amount of lizards. Right now, she was stroking one of their chests with her finger, causing it to emit small cooing noises at it kicked its leg much like a dog would.



(He never really liked me,) she mussed morosely, her eyes dried and her soul sore, "At least you like me, Cornflower," she said softly to her pet, smiling halfheartedly down at it.



The lizard made a small noise of satisfaction, squealing in a bizarre, cutesy manner. Her smile became a little bit more sincere, and she continued to pet it.



A few moments later, a voice called out from downstairs. "Tarah, there's someone at the door for you!"



The girl lazily lifted herself up by her elbows, feeling a little bit confused, since she heard no doorbell. "Who is it, Mom?" she asked loudly, still keeping her finger on the lizard.



"Andrew Champion!" it answered promptly, the tone remaining the same. "From school!"



And Tarah's entire body was electrified like a spire in a thunderstorm. She ended up jamming her finger straight into Cornflower's chest, causing it to let out a screech of indignation.



-



Next Up- the Conclusion!

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