Entry 10: Maxwell Turner's House
"Yo, idol — wait up! " Sammy called from a distance as he rolled his wheelchair toward us. We were on our way to the gym; Maxwell and I were talking about a new video game he'd just got.
"Makaido: Reloaded," he said. That was the only thing we really had in common — our love for video games. Being a nerd with no friends, I found solace in playing. Video games gave me a world with no consequences, a world where I could be whatever I wanted. That's why I played VR most of the time. It wasn't cheap back then, so I saved up: helped Ms. Margaret walk her dogs, scraped snow off Mr. Jeremy's lawn, watered Grandma Ann's plants.
I missed Brook Town, but I didn't regret leaving.
Sammy caught up to us and, from his seat, told us to bend down so he could wrap his hands around us. "So what are we doing today?" he asked.
"I'm going for a job application," I said. "It's getting hard for my mom, so I want to help—even if it's just a little."
Sammy and Maxwell looked at me with compassion, like they wanted to say something. I chuckled. "Why the hell are you looking at me like that?"
"Oh come on," Sammy said. "I was thinking we should go to the idol's house."
Maxwell looked confused. "Huh? Why my house?"
"Your house is close by, and you've got video games. We can make it a boys' night. What do you say, idol?" Sammy's face brightened with expectation.
"I don't mind," Maxwell said, "but what about Freddy? He needs to go for his night shift."
"How about this, nerdy — I'll pay you for tonight's shift."
"Hmmm. That could work, but I'll collect extra."
"For what?" Sammy asked, surprised. "You called me nerdy."
"You don't like it?" Maxwell pretended to be hurt.
"Fine, I'll give you extra." Sammy waved a hand. "Then it's settled."
"You're bringing snacks, by the way, Bieber?" Maxwell added.
"Why me?"Sammy groaned
"It was your idea, dummy."Maxwell shrugged. " it's only fair."
"What the hell is with you guys and these nicknames today?" I muttered.
"Oh—oh—I have a good idea," Sammy said. "Let's go tell Emily to join us."
"What? No." I nearly choked.
"Why not?" Sammy asked. "She's a friend, isn't she?"
Sammy squinted at me, holding his cheeks. "I think Freddy's in love."
"What kind of dumb conclusion did you guys come up with?" I stammered. "I… I don't like her, you dummies."
"Really? Then we can invite her," Sammy said.
"Yeah, do what you want," I said, face hot, folding my arms.
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(Class 1-A)
Sammy and Maxwell pushed to the front; I followed behind. Someone knocked on the classroom door.
"Can we come in, sir?" Maxwell called.
The teacher was about to say yes when Sammy cut in, "Why the hell are you knocking? This is your class."
Maxwell realized and walked in. Sammy followed, and so did I. The teacher, already annoyed at the disrespect, started to scold us. I rushed over to apologize.
"I'm so sorry about my friends — we'll be out of your hair in a bit," I said, then went to where Emily was seated.
Maxwell didn't bother lowering his voice. "Come to my house this evening." The whole room heard, and murmurs spread.
Emily, stunned, whispered, "What the hell do you think you're doing? Are you trying to ruin my life, Maxwell Turner?"
Sammy jumped in. "Nothing like that. We just wanted to see if you'd be available for game night at the idol's house."
"Why would I want to go?" she said, blunt.
"Because—" Maxwell started. "I can scream 'I love you, Emily Swanson'."
"You wouldn't," she said, voice tight with worry.
"Wanna test me? I've got nothing to lose," Maxwell said, daringly.
"Fine. I'll go. Freddy, was this your idea?" she asked, turning to me.
"Why would you assume it's me?" I stammered, avoiding her gaze.
She grunted and let it go.
Before we could leave, a voice rang out: "Frederick Harper, Maxwell Turner, Samson McGuire — principal's office, now."
It was the teacher we'd forgotten about. Maxwell tried to stifle a laugh at the sound of "McGuire."
"What's the problem with it?" Sammy shot back.
We were in trouble, and yet they still joked. I looked at them, disappointed.
We stayed in detention for an hour. Sammy kept poking me the whole time; Maxwell mostly slept through it. When we finally left, we saw Emily resting against a wall.
Sammy rolled over to her. "Emily, my dear — you waited for us."
Maxwell looked confused. "Why did you wait? I thought you didn't want to come."
Emily didn't answer. She scoffed and started walking, as if urging us to follow.
We got into a Rolls-Royce —courtesy of Maxwell Turner's family. Thirty minutes later we arrived at Maxwell Turner's house.