What a jerk! I thought as I stood at the intersection waiting for the red light that always seemed to take an eternity to change. Tyrone could have at least acknowledged what he did to me, instead of acting like he didn't know what it cost me, what he took from me. But hey those guys were a disease that should've been cut out from my life a long time ago, so I guess better late than never.

“Hi Ink, how's your hand?” I heard from behind me. Turning around, I saw Tulip hesitantly waiting for my response. She had brown hair brown eyes and I think she's Spanish but to this day I don’t know for sure. She was short but still taler than me though, not enough to matter but enough to notice. I never really had any strong or negative opinions about her. I occasionally caught her giving me strange looks but whenever I met her gaze she would quickly turn away. I never felt any malice behind her gaze. I didn’t know a lot about her other than the fact that she was apparently really into history. Where in grade Nine she spent all of March break inside a library just reading to the point where she had to get wheeled out to the hospital since she almost died due to self induced starvation and dehydration. And I think that Alex was her best friend.

“Oh, hey Tulip, um the hand still hurts a bit, but it's certainly better than it was before. What about you, did you get injured at all?”

“No, thankfully when my textbook caught on fire it was far enough away from me. So, I didn't get burned at all.” 

“That's good because let me tell you, fire is not fun!” 

Tulip chuckled. “Yeah, I was there!” she reminded playfully. “Although it was kind of funny to see that skank Amanda’s cheap hair extensions shrivel up.” 

“Wow… I did not expect you of all people to say something like that.” I admitted in a mix of shock and amusement. 

“What! Why not me?” she questioned somewhat flustered. 

“Well, I'm pretty sure it's because when people picture you, they just see a cute girl, not someone who swears like a sailor.” Blushing for a reason that escapes me to this day, she responded playfully. 

“Well, you're one to talk, Mr. Brooding emo.”

“Wait brooding emo? Who’s calling me that?”

“No one I know of, but just look at you. You're constantly frowning, looking off into the distance dramatically, talking like a depressed protagonist from an eighteen hundred’s Victorian play. Not to mention that I don't think I’ve seen you smile once, not since the weird beef between you and the others started.”

I paused for a second and then admitted somewhat defeatedly. “Yeah, I guess that's true. Can't really blame you for thinking that way.”

“Why were you guys fighting earlier?” 

I let out a sigh “Look I'd rather not get into it, but if you really want to know, the basic gist is, a while ago Tyrone and Brad destroyed something very important to me. Guams ran out the back like a coward and Antonio tried to stop me from seeing it, lying straight to my face. They mutilated something very important to me, something that could've given me a future, a bright one. So, when they tried to get me involved with another one of their shenanigans while insulting my craftsmanship, the real significance of what they've done, it made me furious.” 

Tulip seemed surprised. “Oh, I had no idea. You guys always seemed so close, especially Tyrone. I knew something happened between you guys, but I didn't think it was something like that. I'm sorry for bringing up such a sore subject.” 

“It's fine, there's no way you could have known. Looking back on it now, and with the benefit of hindsight, I do regret how I handled it. I didn't need to punch him in the face, I could have just walked away and flipped him the bird.” At that remark Tulip burst into a hearty laughter. “You, ok?” I asked with a smile in my voice, happy someone found me funny.

“Yeah, don't worry. On another note, I don't know now if you would know the answer or n– it’s stupid never mind.” 

“No, no you can go ahead and ask.” 

“Well, it's just after you stormed off, Tyrone didn't seem fazed by your reaction at all, he just had this weird look on his face.” 

“Weird, how?” 

“I don't know it was just cold and uncaring and it could've been my imagination, but I swore, for a second his looked black if that makes sense? He got up and turned to Antonio and Guams and just mentioned something about going bigger and something about a store. I was on the other side of the room and had to leave the classroom, so I couldn’t hear all of the conversation. Also, right before the fire happened while the textbooks were smoking, but before they burst into flame, Tyrone was smiling as if he was trying to hold back his laughter, felt kind of weird especially for a math class. It just seemed odd to me, I mean I never knew Tyrone super well but from what I do know is that it's unlike him to just shrug off getting yelled at by a friend… or at least someone who used to be a friend.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Huh weird, honestly haven’t chatted with the guy in three months so I have no clue what’s up with that.”

“Yeah, I figured you wouldn't know but just thought I would ask just in case.” 

“If I think of something I will let you know.”

“In that case, could I have your number?" she asked rather nervously, which I found odd. 

“Sure,” I answered, not thinking anything odd about the question. We exchanged numbers and kept on talking to each other at first about school in general but then about the incident, then our classmates and their annoying quirks and habits. We cracked a couple jokes about Amanda and Dr. Thompson until after maybe twenty-five minutes we reached her house. The location surprised me. “This is where you live?”

“Yeah sixteen years and counting, why?” 

“I live like five minutes from here over on Wood Chip Drive.”

“Isn't that where all the shops and stuff are?”

“Yeah, I live in a carpentry shop, I work there with my mom.” 

“Wait, is it that one place with the weird name Quality Family Carpentry?”

“Yes, it is.”

“Oh, my Mum goes there all the time to buy flowerpots.”

“Nice, those are actually some of my favorites to make, tell your mom I can get her the friends and family discount.”

“TULIP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT OF SCHOOL?” A voice yelled out from the door of the house. Looking at the door I saw a woman with tan skin, brown hair and dark eyes. She was wearing a yellow dress and based on the similarities I could guess was Tulip's mother. 

“Well, that’s my mum, I guess I should get going. It was nice talking to you Ink. I'll see you at school.” 

“Yeah definitely, it's been a while since I laughed like that. Feel free to come down to the shop anytime, I'll get you the friends and family discount.” I promised, at that Tulip smiled brightly as she walked over to her mom. As I walked away, I took one last look at her. I saw Tulip with a bright red face with her hands over it with her mother laughing as the two walked inside. 

As I continued to walk, I thought about what Tulip had told me, about them planning to go bigger. I know they haven't been hanging out long enough to explain the weird attitude changes. But for some reason they were getting along way more today than any other day, they were acting like the way things were before the incident. Was there any way somehow the three of them could have been responsible for the fire? No, there's no way, what happened was a freak incident and there's no way they could be responsible. 

It would be impossible for them to be responsible. It doesn't make sense no matter how you spin it since each and every textbook caught fire at the same time. Yeah, that's right plus the fire not going out from the extinguisher and the weird thing with the sprinklers. There are way too many variables and impossibilities for anyone to possibly be behind it. Plus, its Tyrone Antonio and Guams were talking about here those three knuckleheads couldn't tell the difference between a biscuit joint and a half lap if there was a gun to their head.

Eventually I arrived at the entrance to my home, the bright red door with a square window in the center top of it. As I entered inside, I was greeted by the confused face of my mother. “What are you doing out of school?” 

“All the textbooks caught fire and burned my hand.” 

“ALL THE TEXTBOOKS WHAT!” She yelled.

“Yeah, and then the sprinklers burst open putting out the fires.” 

“HOW?” 

“No one knows.” I answered with playful confusion. 

“Ok well you're a horrible liar so I know you are telling me the truth… Wait, did you say you burned your hand?”

“Yeah, it hurt a lot!” Showing the palm of my hand to my now visibly disturbed mother. She instantly ran from the other side of the counter and grabbed my blistered hand by the wrist inspecting it closely. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt? How hot was the fire?”

“I'm okay. My hand still hurts a bit but it's better after I drenched it in the desk pool. It was insanely hot. Thankfully I was burnt when the textbooks were heating up but before it caught fire, so I’m better off than others.” She paused for a couple of minutes until she spoke up.

“Stay here, I'm gonna go get the first aid kit” she instructed as she walked into the workshop. 

“Mom, I'm fine.” I tried to reassure her.

“Ink, your hand looks like a piece of shrimp dim sum.” 

“Look I'm fi–”

“NO, YOUR NOT,” she yelled storming out of the steel door. “Now give me your hand.” 

“What bu–”

“NO BUTTS. Now show me your hand.” 

“Fine,” I relinquished, giving Mom my hand to which she quickly dabbed some disinfectant-soaked cotton balls onto it. Somehow the stinging sensation going into the opening of my hand felt worse than the smoldering heat of the book. After that, she started to wrap bandages tightly around my hand, pulling every time the bandages made a loop around my hand to the point where once she was done, I didn't think I could feel any blood going into my hand. 

“See that wasn't so bad now, was it?”

“No.” I grumbled, knowing any other answer would just result in a lecture about proper health and safety and the dangers of the workshop. 

“Now why don't you go upstairs and get a snack and enjoy the rest of your day off.” 

“All right,” I sighed as I started to head up the stairs to the upper levels and then into my bedroom.

Changing from my cargo shorts and my somewhat singed hoodie into jeans and a t-shirt that had a picture of a cartoon log sleeping on it with captions above “Don't wake me up, I'm sleeping like a…,” with an arrow pointed downwards at the image below. 

I started to head downstairs, wanting to work on my sculpture but when I got to the first floor, my mom sitting at the counter spoke to me. “Are you going to work on your sculpture again?” 

“Yeah, I figured I have some free time right now so now's as good a time as any,” I enthused, not wanting the chance to slip away.

“Okay dear, just make sure to have some dinner this time. It's hard for me to remember the last time you ate.” her comment was fair i think the last thing I ate was a piece of toast three days ago.

“I will, I promise I'll eat something,” I promised her. 

“Well, just don't push yourself too hard, your hand doesn't look like it's in good shape.” 

“I'll just use it to hold tools," I reassured her as I headed into the workshop.