Pundit Taylor attracts the wrong kind of attention. Mostly just silly or sad. Or both simultaneously. He needs pity and pie.
Goodbye, Hello by Kid-Apocalypse, literature
Literature
Goodbye, Hello
A week passed without any major problems, which was possibly the reason that the flowers took me by surprise. While I'd been sick, I'd made Giovanni promise not to visit me at work, and school had mostly been normal. He'd brought me soup for lunch once, which had just given rise to a few comments, but it wasn't anything I couldn't handle with a straight face. Sometimes that part was difficult. Dumb comments were funnier when I remembered that Giovanni wasn't interested in me the way some other people assumed he was.
At least, not actively.
I honestly thought he just didn't understand. &
It looked like someone living in the clouds had upended a bag of powdered donuts all over Maarten End. As usual, I was prepared. Snow was a regular part of Maarten End winters, and only new arrivals failed to keep a few dozen coats and warm things squirreled away in a closet or two. I of course, only needed one of each—except for such items that came in pairs. Although that goes without saying.
My hat was blue. This was significant because I had never been particularly inclined to wear anything blue. It tended to call attention to my eyes. But this hat had been a gift. I chuckled to myself as I brought the memory to the forefront of
After only a few seconds of walking, it became apparent that Giovanni didn't know where he was going. And I was starting to wonder if he'd forgotten this task, the same way he had forgotten his previous one, however he had done that. At least he wasn't shy.
"It's a shame, really," he said as we turned yet another corner. "I was right about the hat, though, even if it is too big."
There it was, what I'd wanted to ask him. Somehow I'd thought it was supposed to be much harder than this. "Er, I wouldn't know about that. Why did you give it to me?"
"Why'd I give you what?"
"The hat."
He turned on his heel so quickly I nearly walked int
I wasn't held after for a detention. But my luck was apparently playing silly buggers with me, because thanks to not staying after, I got caught in the snow squall. It might not have been so bad if there'd been someone to commiserate with for at least part of the walk home, but Maarten End was a small town. I was the only kid in school who didn't have a ride of some kind. Everyone else had older siblings, parents, some kind of relative, to pick them up. I had friends with cars, but all of them had already left or wouldn't be leaving for at least another hour. Besides, I'd already started walking; I was too far to go back to the school.
What with my college fund devoted to rent and the big expenses, high school could have been written up as a waste, but I wasn't ready to give it up completely. In spite of the fact that I'd had to stay back a year and all my friends were younger than me and still taller, I still enjoyed the sense of normalcy it offered. It also gave me something menial to complain about so I wouldn't moan about the larger things. I loved it mostly. Even if I was unsure of graduating this year, same as last.
I got up earlier than usual so I could eat the rest of the cold cereal that I'd been hoarding in the cupboards, then marched off. It was slow going.
To my great surprise and even greater dismay, I slept right up to the final bell. I might have woken up once or twice before that, but if I had, I'd probably seen the same sight that greeted me now. The infirmary was empty of people except for Giovanni, who was actually guarding the door. He was so…innocently obvious about what he was doing that I actually smiled at his straight, coatless back. There was probably not anyone stranger than he was, unless he had a younger sibling, but I liked him in his harmless moments. The ones in which he wasn't doing something to embarrass me.
I rubbed my eyes and felt the pleasant glow that often came
Mr. Defoe was waiting for me. That had to mean something, usually he would be busy on the phone or at his computer when I came in. The last time I'd walked into the shop to see him standing at the front desk watching for me had been my second day on the job. Which had been a year ago. I swallowed hard, then started taking off my winter things and hanging them up.
"Are things alright at home, Mr. Taylor?" he asked, not moving from his butler-like station in front of the desk.
I paused to swear into my scarf. "Of course, sir," I said after finally untangling myself. "Do you want me to start shelving the new arrivals?"
He started to nod
The phone rang, throwing off Giovanni's narrative before it could really begin. I didn't want to answer it, but it was my job. I tucked the books under my arm and headed for the front desk. Giovanni trailed behind me, the diary still open to its first passage. He was quiet again, as he'd been when he'd first come in with Saffron. As I reached for the handset, I wondered how anyone who loved books could have an apparent fear of libraries.
"Hello?"
"Pundit, I was watching the news, are you alright?!"
The voice was undeniably familiar, but out of place. It was her. She had never sounded so worried, and it presumably had something to do