Neo Chronicles
Episode 3
Table of Contents
It's not too often anyone will ever find Chris in class. What? Yes it is! I go to school all the time! The past two days, he has skipped school altogether. I had stuff to do! It's not like he has a job or anything. Usually, when he skips, he goes running around the town. Doing important business—like purchasing a sword he's not old enough to have.
One can't really put too much blame on him, though. Ever since his ST developed, riding with his mom from place to place became all too slow for him. That's not why I stopped riding with her, and you know it! But his heart was in the right place. His mom, being a single parent has to work to make ends meet. Sometimes, that means working two shifts all the way until morning. By the time she gets home, she's far too exhausted to help Chris get ready. She's more than willing to do it, but—I can't be puttin' her through that; especially if I can help it.
So naturally when given the opportunity to choose between running to school or running some place else, the other place is usually the place to be. Dude, it's seriously not like that. I'm in school right now! And it's even Friday! Do you know how many more important things I can be doin' on a Friday?
Chris would much rather be playing with his new sword or running around the city looking for that so called “demon.” Dozens upon dozens of more appealing options rush through his head as he makes his way through the school hallways. He pays no mind to the early morning “fight” that breaks out by the lockers. He cares little about the loud and blaring bell signaling the start of first period. Man, that's the first bell. I got five minutes before I'm late. 'Sides, if they take into account CP time, I got at least another thirty.
“Hey, blockhead,” someone calls out from behind.
The voice is light, casual, and, at this point in time, unwanted. But Chris turns to greet it happily.
“What up, Lynn?”
“Oh, the usual: school, studying—you know, the stuff you should be doing.” Lynn looks as she's always looked: fair skinned, pink hair, casual white t-shirt, blue jeans. You'll never find her dressing up or dressing out. Comfort over style at all times, in spite of what her mom would say.
“Why does everyone think I don't get any of this schoolin' done?”
“Well, when you take off on average three full days a month—not to mention the times you show up late—Where have you been, anyway?”
“Around.”
“That sounds exciting.”
“I got a new sword.”
“You had an old one?”
“You're real funny, Lynn.” Chris says as he starts walking away.
“Where are you going? Class is this way.”
“I gotta pee. See you later.”
He decides to use his speed to make his way to the restroom in as swift a manner as possible. Not that he's in a hurry to get to class. That is actually the furthest thing from his mind. He just needs to handle business. When you gotta go, you gotta go.
On his way out, he hears the tardy bell blare just as loud as the first bell did five minutes ago. Yeah, that figures. It doesn't bother him in the slightest. He heads into the halls and casually walks along his way. Overall, he sees two groups of people walk with him.
The first group are those who are in a hurry. He imagines they are the good students. They're not as good as the best students since they're showing up late, but things happen. The second group is the group he identifies himself with. They are the cool kids. Cool kids aren't in a hurry to get to class. They aren't worried about showing up late. Cool kids don't worry about small stuff like this.
Among the group, he spots a tall, black boy casually making his way as well.
“DJ!”
The boy turns and stops to the voice. “Chris?” The two meet up, give each other dap and, in spite of everything else going on, have a short little chat.
“No, not 'Chris,' Nexus. You're supposed to call me Nexus.”
“You're still on that? Fine, 'Nexus.' What's good?”
“It's all good, homie. Been out an' about. Doin' ma thing, you know how it is.”
“Yeah, dude. I'm about ta be late for class, but dude, lemme tell you—the stuff that happened to me just th'otha day—last night actually. Or at least, I think it was last night—man, I done saw a space ship. Some space ship crashed in my backyard, dude. My backyard. An' this mornin', I come t'find out that there's an alien in it—”
“Hold up, hold up—what?”
“Fo'real, dude.”
“Dawg, who you playin’? What the crud man? Aliens? Seriously?”
“I’m tellin’, you the truth.”
“You sure you didn’t dream it?”
“Pretty sure.”
“And you realize that aliens don’t exist.”
“I know, I know, but dawg, I ain’t makin’ this up.”
“And you’re sure this wasn’t a dream?”
“As sure as sure can be.”
“Well dang, I gotta see it.”
“You really do.”
“After school?”
“Sure, come over. I’m tellin’ you, it’s crazy.”
“Alright, I’ll be there.”
DJ, or Darius as he's more commonly known as, isn't one to make things up, but it has been said that it is hard to tell when he's joking and when he's not, but there was something about the way he was talking just now that makes Chris believe him.
Chris eventually makes his way to his first period History class. His attempt to sneak in unnoticed is foiled by the squeaking of the door. As if that wouldn't be enough, his natural, noisy clumsiness draws everyone's attention towards him.
“Ah, Mr. Walker,” the teacher calls out. “I'm glad to see you join us today.”
“Uh, yeah. Glad to be here, I guess,” Chris responds.
“For those who don't know, the student you all have your eyes on right now is late. Please state your name, sir.”
“Um, my name is Chris Walker—I go by Nexus and—”
Mr. Watson is the type of teacher a student will either love or hate. There is no in between. Come on, ol' man. I'm already late. Why you gonna waste even more time jus' t'make me look silly. White people, man. The fun poking lasts a good five minutes before Chris finally is given the opportunity to sit down. He wants to take to the back, but to his dismay, all of those chairs are full. The only open spot left in the room is the one next to Lynn, and what's even worse is that it's on the front row.
The day is off to an interesting start. “Interesting?” This day sucks. I coulda been out—I coulda been sword fightin'—I coulda been “demon” hunting—I coulda been watchin' TV! Why did I show up today? Maybe the day will get better.
Man, I hate school.
Episode 3
Table of Contents
It's not too often anyone will ever find Chris in class. What? Yes it is! I go to school all the time! The past two days, he has skipped school altogether. I had stuff to do! It's not like he has a job or anything. Usually, when he skips, he goes running around the town. Doing important business—like purchasing a sword he's not old enough to have.
One can't really put too much blame on him, though. Ever since his ST developed, riding with his mom from place to place became all too slow for him. That's not why I stopped riding with her, and you know it! But his heart was in the right place. His mom, being a single parent has to work to make ends meet. Sometimes, that means working two shifts all the way until morning. By the time she gets home, she's far too exhausted to help Chris get ready. She's more than willing to do it, but—I can't be puttin' her through that; especially if I can help it.
So naturally when given the opportunity to choose between running to school or running some place else, the other place is usually the place to be. Dude, it's seriously not like that. I'm in school right now! And it's even Friday! Do you know how many more important things I can be doin' on a Friday?
Chris would much rather be playing with his new sword or running around the city looking for that so called “demon.” Dozens upon dozens of more appealing options rush through his head as he makes his way through the school hallways. He pays no mind to the early morning “fight” that breaks out by the lockers. He cares little about the loud and blaring bell signaling the start of first period. Man, that's the first bell. I got five minutes before I'm late. 'Sides, if they take into account CP time, I got at least another thirty.
“Hey, blockhead,” someone calls out from behind.
The voice is light, casual, and, at this point in time, unwanted. But Chris turns to greet it happily.
“What up, Lynn?”
“Oh, the usual: school, studying—you know, the stuff you should be doing.” Lynn looks as she's always looked: fair skinned, pink hair, casual white t-shirt, blue jeans. You'll never find her dressing up or dressing out. Comfort over style at all times, in spite of what her mom would say.
“Why does everyone think I don't get any of this schoolin' done?”
“Well, when you take off on average three full days a month—not to mention the times you show up late—Where have you been, anyway?”
“Around.”
“That sounds exciting.”
“I got a new sword.”
“You had an old one?”
“You're real funny, Lynn.” Chris says as he starts walking away.
“Where are you going? Class is this way.”
“I gotta pee. See you later.”
He decides to use his speed to make his way to the restroom in as swift a manner as possible. Not that he's in a hurry to get to class. That is actually the furthest thing from his mind. He just needs to handle business. When you gotta go, you gotta go.
On his way out, he hears the tardy bell blare just as loud as the first bell did five minutes ago. Yeah, that figures. It doesn't bother him in the slightest. He heads into the halls and casually walks along his way. Overall, he sees two groups of people walk with him.
The first group are those who are in a hurry. He imagines they are the good students. They're not as good as the best students since they're showing up late, but things happen. The second group is the group he identifies himself with. They are the cool kids. Cool kids aren't in a hurry to get to class. They aren't worried about showing up late. Cool kids don't worry about small stuff like this.
Among the group, he spots a tall, black boy casually making his way as well.
“DJ!”
The boy turns and stops to the voice. “Chris?” The two meet up, give each other dap and, in spite of everything else going on, have a short little chat.
“No, not 'Chris,' Nexus. You're supposed to call me Nexus.”
“You're still on that? Fine, 'Nexus.' What's good?”
“It's all good, homie. Been out an' about. Doin' ma thing, you know how it is.”
“Yeah, dude. I'm about ta be late for class, but dude, lemme tell you—the stuff that happened to me just th'otha day—last night actually. Or at least, I think it was last night—man, I done saw a space ship. Some space ship crashed in my backyard, dude. My backyard. An' this mornin', I come t'find out that there's an alien in it—”
“Hold up, hold up—what?”
“Fo'real, dude.”
“Dawg, who you playin’? What the crud man? Aliens? Seriously?”
“I’m tellin’, you the truth.”
“You sure you didn’t dream it?”
“Pretty sure.”
“And you realize that aliens don’t exist.”
“I know, I know, but dawg, I ain’t makin’ this up.”
“And you’re sure this wasn’t a dream?”
“As sure as sure can be.”
“Well dang, I gotta see it.”
“You really do.”
“After school?”
“Sure, come over. I’m tellin’ you, it’s crazy.”
“Alright, I’ll be there.”
DJ, or Darius as he's more commonly known as, isn't one to make things up, but it has been said that it is hard to tell when he's joking and when he's not, but there was something about the way he was talking just now that makes Chris believe him.
Chris eventually makes his way to his first period History class. His attempt to sneak in unnoticed is foiled by the squeaking of the door. As if that wouldn't be enough, his natural, noisy clumsiness draws everyone's attention towards him.
“Ah, Mr. Walker,” the teacher calls out. “I'm glad to see you join us today.”
“Uh, yeah. Glad to be here, I guess,” Chris responds.
“For those who don't know, the student you all have your eyes on right now is late. Please state your name, sir.”
“Um, my name is Chris Walker—I go by Nexus and—”
Mr. Watson is the type of teacher a student will either love or hate. There is no in between. Come on, ol' man. I'm already late. Why you gonna waste even more time jus' t'make me look silly. White people, man. The fun poking lasts a good five minutes before Chris finally is given the opportunity to sit down. He wants to take to the back, but to his dismay, all of those chairs are full. The only open spot left in the room is the one next to Lynn, and what's even worse is that it's on the front row.
The day is off to an interesting start. “Interesting?” This day sucks. I coulda been out—I coulda been sword fightin'—I coulda been “demon” hunting—I coulda been watchin' TV! Why did I show up today? Maybe the day will get better.
Man, I hate school.
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