CHAPTER 1

NORMALCY

Page 1

On a warm Monday morning at the end of May in New York City, the sky exhibited few clouds, allowing sunlight to shine brightly over the many billboards and streetlights outside. Asleep on the fourth floor inside a two roomed apartment building in the Bronx rested sixteen year old Hikaru Chan. His pillow laid over his head, covering his exotic face while blocking the bright day that beamed in through the window of the fire escape across from where he slept. The door to the right of his bed stayed motionlessly closed, while an old brown chair strewn full of clean clothes with an old chipped golden clock sitting face down on top, perched in front of a partially opened closet entrance.

There existed not a bit of silence inside the room, mostly because of noise coming from outside. Drivers on the road in front of the apartment building blew their horns, while some waited patiently, banging incredibly loud bass trembling music as an ambulance rushed through still traffic, the sirens ringing piercingly until it made way to an apartment building several yards across the street. Hikaru tossed and turned, trying to keep the pillow over his ears, but failed in his attempts not to wake up. Lazily, he lay there on one shoulder against the hard mattress underneath a thin white sheet of cover.

Unable to think as another music booming car passed, he lifted himself up, tossed the sheet on the ground near the bed, stood on top of it while stretching both arms as wide as possible, then ruffled his jet black hair out of his face. Hikaru paced toward the chair near the closet and picked up the clock, believing he’d waken up before the alarm. After looking, Hikaru realized he overslept for ten minutes, and rushed to get in the shower. Opening the door into the main room, he grabbed clean towels from off the couch, and slammed the bathroom door shut.

After quickly showering, then putting on boxers, pants, and a shirt, Hikaru slowed down, relieved that he successfully rushed himself back on schedule. He placed his socks on both feet, then took a seat down beside folded towels on a two seater couch that rested in the middle of the living room. A small television that set on the drawer in front of him was off, and ironically, since getting up, everything going on outside calmed down.

While sitting down, Hikaru grabbed a picture frame off a small wooden table approximately on his right. He held it in front of him with both hands, staring obsessively inside the glass at a twelve year old photo, barely recalling the moment as his much younger self clung ahold to his father’s hand on the sidewalk of the eastern grocery store. Still, his compulsive staring at the picture wasn’t an abnormal occurrence, in fact, he tried his best gazing upon the photo at least once daily. No longer did it deeply depress him, these days, it actually seemed harder remembering having both parents; even the best of times with his father grew fainter and more blurry as he aged, and that’s why he always obsessed over the picture, for fear of losing memories. He placed the photo frame back down on the table beside the phone, then thought about his mother.

It wasn’t irregular for her to be gone this time of morning, opening the eastern grocery store that she owned. The telephone rang, and Hikaru picked it up, knowing that it was more than likely his mother. “Hey mom, and yes, I’m already out of bed,” he said, easily predicting what she would ask.

“Alright, just make sure that you’re on time today, I don’t want you being late again,” his mother said sternly.

With those few words, the two exchanged I love you’s, and Hikaru hung up the phone. Unfortunately, he already knew there forecasted no chance that he’d get to class on time with the task ahead of him. He picked up the phone and began dialing. After the phone rang for the seventh time, his closest friend finally picked up, sluggishly saying, “…Hello,” while still half asleep.

“Kamari, you idiot, you should already be up,” Hikaru fussed. “You are coming to class, right?”

“No way, I don’t feel like going.”

“Well that’s tough,” said Hikaru, clenching the phone tightly. “And when I get to your house, you’d better be ready.”

Hikaru hung up the phone, then placed it on the arm of the couch. He got upon his feet and walked to the front door where both his backpack and shoes laid. He slid on both already tied sneakers, then picked up the book-bag, placing one strap over his right shoulder while snatching his keys off the wooden rack beside the door. Then, suddenly he remembered that he’d left his wallet inside his room. Hikaru kicked off both shoes and raced inside, picking up his wallet off the floor in front of the brown chair. With that, he raced back to the main door, placed his shoes back on, and entered into the hallway.

After locking the door behind him, Hikaru walked through the hall and down the stairs until reaching the front exit of the building. He stepped outside. Morning seemed unusually bright, forcing him to squint, but after he took one brief glance at the blue sky, his eyes adjusted, and he thought nothing more of it while walking toward his car. It was an old modeled big bodied car that had brown touches of rust on the aged rims. There existed no passenger window, instead, a plastic bag that had been taped on poorly, covered the open area.

Hikaru opened the ragged door and got into the car, gently putting his book-bag in the back seat. He placed the key inside the ignition and turned; the car hesitated to start, but eventually gave in after a few seconds. With that done, he placed his foot on the gas peddle, and took off down the road. After driving three blocks down, Hikaru parked his car; he got out, closing the door shut behind him, then paced hurriedly toward the front apartment entrance. As he reached for the doorknob, Mrs. Washington came jetting outside, just swiftly stopping on the tip of her toes after seeing Hikaru standing in front of the doorway.

She gave him a quick hug. “Wish I had more time for talking, but I’m running late, Kamari’s inside.”

And with those few words, she tread off in a hurry. Pacing inside, Hikaru shut the main door behind him, and walked through the halls of the first floor until arriving at apartment number seven. He knocked on the door five times, then waited impatiently. The door creaked open slowly with Kamari standing behind it half dressed.

“Why aren’t you ready yet?” Hikaru asked, trying his absolute best to keep from yelling.

Kamari shrugged his shoulders. “Didn’t I tell you earlier, I’m not going.”

“Yes you are.”

“No I’m not.”

Hikaru slammed his books on the floor with a fierce look in his eyes as he glared at Kamari.

“When will you stop acting like a total child!” he shouted. “Won’t you grow up a little and start thinking about your future!”

Kamari continued putting on his clothes, placing a black shirt over his head while ignoring Hikaru’s wild outburst of anger as he fixed his big curly dark hair. The teens had known one another since the age of six, and both understood the other very well. As Kamari fell silent of any words, Hikaru knew instinctively that he needn’t say anything more while Kamari slid on both already tied shoes, then sluggishly looked at the door.

“Try appearing less enthusiastic,” Hikaru said triumphantly, and with that, he paced into the hall followed by Kamari, who locked the door behind them.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

When arriving outside, both walked toward the car with gentle spring air touching their faces, and as Kamari opened the door, attempting to get inside, the plastic bag brushed wildly against his shoulder. Hikaru sat down in the car, while Kamari did the same, both shutting the door after tucking their legs inside. The bag blew into Kamari’s face and he fought it away with both arms.

“Man… you should really get this fixed,” he strongly suggested.

“It’s not my fault someone bashed my window with a brick,” Hikaru snapped.

Kamari’s mentioning of the window only brought back bitter memories that severely annoyed Hikaru. It had been three months since the incident occurred, yet Hikaru could remember it like yesterday: The sun just rising, the weather freezing cold, combined with every car being covered in snow. After getting ready for school, Hikaru left his car running to clear off the frost while sitting in his apartment room for warmth. As soon as he stepped back out the door, intent on leaving, he witnessed a crazed man smash a brick against his passenger side window. After eyeing the man unnoticed, he removed his left shoe, and pitched it, striking the side of the guy’s face. The stranger immediately turned around, witnessing Hikaru standing in the snow with another shoe in hand, then jetted off down the sidewalk.

Snapping back from past incidents, Hikaru stared at the bagged window and shook his head in discuss. Putting the car in drive, he took off down the road. The radio played on with low volume, but the music sounded fuzzy because of the car’s broken antenna. Kamari sat idly on the passenger side, almost drifting asleep while watching them pass buildings and parked cars. Any school day felt like a month locked inside a cage to him, and he often wondered why he let Hikaru talk him into going. As they pulled up, reaching the parking lot, Kamari braced himself for another boring day, only hoping that it would pass by quickly. After parking, Hikaru cut off the engine; he grabbed his book-bag from the back seat, opened the door, and stepped out quickly, racing to get inside on time. Halfway near the front entrance, he instinctively looked back, finding Kamari just getting out of the car, slowly pacing forward.

“Hurry up!” he shouted, but as expected, Kamari continued moving apathetically.

Hikaru sighed lowly,then stopped for fear that Kamari would leave campus if left on his own. They both walked inside the school— nothing proved abnormal: The tile floor remained dingy from not having been cleaned, the paint on the walls were chipped away, and the smell of breakfast food lingered from the cafeteria. Hikaru looked up at a clock above the brown lockers to find that it currently read five minutes past eight.

“Perhaps if we sneak in, no one will notice that we’re late,” he hoped aloud.

“Or Maybe we’ll get another detention like last time,” Kamari stated, intentionally striving for irritation. Hikaru stared at him harshly. “Well you know it’s the truth.”

“I also know that it’s your fault we’re late in the first place.”

“Actually, if it were up to me, we wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

Kamari and Hikaru turned left from the main office, and walked up the wide stairs. As they finally got inside the doorway, both turned their eyes toward the literature teacher, who wrote at a rapid pace on the blackboard while lecturing. Just when Hikaru almost took a seat, Mr. Bay smashed his chalk against the board, making a loud scratch. Kamari winced slightly in irritation, while Hikaru pressed his teeth tightly together. Mr. Bay glanced at the clock above him.

“You’re late again Mr. Chan,” he bellowed sternly.

Turning around, Mr. Bay walked forward and faced them. Hikaru’s expression went blank, lately he’d been arriving tardy everyday, making up some random excuse, but this time, he didn’t have a clue what to say, so he blurted out the first thing that crossed his mind.

“I think someone’s growing eyes in the back of his head, catching us with your back turned is an amazing feat.”

Mr. Bay pressed his two fingers atop the middle of his glasses, pushing them further against the bridge of his nose. “Or maybe you’re just getting predictable, this is the eighth time you’ve been late this month.” He turned his attention toward Kamari and glared, wordlessly pronouncing his simmering hatred for him. “Well, well what do you know, this life is full of surprises, Kamari Washington actually decided on showing up to class, and looking as thuggish as ever if I might add. Did you get lost and take a wrong turn?” Mr. Bay scoffed.

“Yeah, I got lost at your daughter’s house last night lost track of the time,” Kamari said, glaring wildly at their teacher as the students chuckled.

Hikaru quickly back handed Kamari on the shoulder while staring at him with a disturbed expression.

“Just take a seat,” Mr. Bay said, walking angrily back toward the board.

Hikaru set in his seat while taking notes; the lecture lingered boringly, but he understood it as a necessity to pay attention, unlike many of the other students, who spent their time whispering and throwing wads of paper across the classroom at one another. He glanced over in Kamari’s direction for a moment, finding him resting his head on the desk while sleeping. Hikaru couldn’t believe what he saw; After all the trouble he went through getting Kamari in class on time, and there he snoozed, not paying a bit of attention. He shook his head lightly, then continued jotting notes down on parchment.

First period soon ended with the bell ringing loudly, as everyone began leaving, Mr. Bay bellowed out: “Hikaru, you stay!” Kamari looked over and shrugged his shoulders while Hikaru’s expression lit up with confusion. He turned to face in his teacher’s direction as Kamari got up from his desk, and left him inside the metaphorical wolf’s den. “I want a talk with you before you leave,” Mr. Bay said.

Hikaru hesitantly walked up near his teacher’s desk, taking a seat on a chair to the instructor’s left. His nerves were a wreck; bad enough was it that he’d gotten detention for his former tardiness, but now his literature teacher actually wanted a personal talk with him about it. He gripped the torso of the chair using onehand, and sat down. “What could you want a conversation with me about?”

“It’s about Kamari,” Mr. Bay said boldly. “I want you to quit socializing with him.”

“What—”

“You don’t understand Hikaru, people like him can only bring you down. You’re the most promising student our school has ever had by far, you have the top grades, and perfect scores on your standard achievement test. You also have great work ethic. I hate saying this, but student’s like Kamari are just the future scum of our society… Look around kid, you live in the slums of NewYork, you’re sixteen, and can easily be influenced into taking the wrong path. The majority of the kids that are schooled here will end up in trouble.”

Hearing Mr. Bay call Kamari scum angered Hikaru to such a degree that he slid at the very edge of his seat while yelling, “What do you have against Kamari!”

“I have nothing against him,” Mr. Bay snapped loudly. “I’d just rather see you succeed!”

“Who are you, calling Kamari scum, you don’t know anything about him!” Hikaru protested, his voicequivering with anger. “Kamari’s dad’s dead, his mom works constantly just so he’ll have a home, and on top of that, he’s constantly dealing with idiotic teachers like you, besides, some of the fights he gets in are because of me, so I think you should mind your own business!”

“Kamari doesn’t care about anything, and he doesn’t care about you!”

Hikaru shot up from the chair, turned his back on Mr. Bay, and walked out the room. When he paced through the door, he saw Kamari waiting. Hikaru tensed up, shocked at the fact that he lingered instead of bailing out to skip, only this time, for once he regretted that Kamari didn’t leave.

“You didn’t hear him?” Hikaru asked, his expression concerned.

“Yeah, I heard everything that bone head said about me, and he’s right about all of it… except—”

“Shut up, just go to your next class, and at the end of school we’ll ride back for my house… My mom, she’ll talk with you about this.”

Hikaru looked at Kamari, knowing very well that his close friend would recklessly skip class, but this time the vibe shifted differently, and he knew that there remained nothing worth saying that would stop him.

“Kamari, for once just listen and finish a day of school,” Hikaru pleaded, and with those final words they both parted ways, going to separate classes.

After school, Hikaru looked everywhere for Kamari: He looked inside Kamari’s seventh period class, he looked near Kamari’s locker upstairs, he even checked near his own locker downstairs, but as expected, Kamari skipped class once again. Hikaru walked outside, got inside his car, and left school, getting home as fast as he could. After unlocking his apartment door, he immediately went for the phone, and started dialing. The phone rang several times but no one answered. Hikaru felt a little worried, still, in the end he decided that Kamari could more than take care of himself. With three test to study for, he sat on the couch in front of the television, and opened a textbook onto his lap. Hikaru knew that the literature test would be brutal. Fill in the blank persisted as the easiest type of test Mr. Bay would administer, and on top of that, there were three other test he needed to study for, so he began concentrating hard while only calling Kamari’s house in between breaks, failing at getting an answer every time.

After finishing his studies, Hikaru began reading a book called The Rocky Snow Flake, a fictional story, ironically about a missing child who’d run away from home, and became hardened after surviving on the rough streets. The time eased by delicately as Hikaru closed his book on the last chapter, and passed a glance at the hands on the old clock sitting in his chair; it red fifty five minutes after nine, and still, when he dialed Kamari’s number, no one answered the phone. Hanging up, he lay in his bed fully dressed, staring up at the ceiling, until finally, he fell asleep.