A Sound in the Dark

It was very cold. And dark. But peaceful nonetheless. That was why I chose this particular spot. I lay on my back on the cold, brittle autumn grass, tracing out the constellations with my fingers. I shivered. Mom was right, I thought ruefully. I should have brought my jacket.

I had just finished tracing Pegasus when I heard a peculiar noise. I sat up quickly, my heart racing. I am prone to adrenaline rushes, see. Little things such as strange sounds can set my blood pounding. I stood up as quietly as I could, looking in the direction of the disturbance. Then something drove itself home, and I smacked my forehead. Looking around was pointless, as I couldn’t see my hand an inch in front of my face, let alone an unknown object twenty or so meters away.

I let go a pent-up breath and sat down again, convincing myself that it was nothing. I hung my head. I missed a good adventure. I went to lie back down, when…

I started. There was that noise again, louder this time. I stood up, wanting to check it out. I hesitated. I didn’t actually have a flashlight, and I could get lost or hurt. I shrugged, and my curiosity got the better of me. I plodded in the direction of the sound, trying to discern my surroundings. I stubbed my toe on a tree once or twice, occasionally getting a whack in the face by an overhanging branch. But other than that, my search was uneventful. The noise was getting louder and more clear, and now that I could hear it properly, it sounded like a groaning, sucking, hollow noise that your stomach might make when you’re hungry. Except this was magnified by a thousand times. It was just getting to the point when I couldn’t bear it any longer, when…

“Aaaauuuugghh!”

I screamed. I was plummeting, down, down, and just when I though it couldn’t go on, it all stopped. The sound, the falling, the screaming, even my heart. But that was only temporary. As everything returned to me in a rush, so did my heartbeat. I was just sane enough to take in my environment. I was laying face-down on a beach, the warm sea breeze playing across my face, the high tide cooling my side. Then I realized what had happened. I was walking through a thin wood, when suddenly I had fallen, and here I was. Strange, I thought. I figured I should try to get back. I had fallen down to get here, so, logically, I looked up. Nothing. Just the starry night sky. Except, I didn’t see any constellations I recognized, and I had been studying constellations for six years. Where am I? I thought in panic. How will I get home?

I tried to keep a level head, considering my options. I could walk a ways until I found something, I could wait here until morning, or I could sit here and scream. I seriously considered the sitting and screaming option, but I realized that wouldn’t do me any good. So I decided to wait until morning. I rolled away from the tide and slept.

I awoke with a jolt, drenched in cold sweat. I looked around wildly, expecting to see the beach, but instead I found myself in bed, neatly tucked under the covers. I relaxed. It was just a dream.

Oh, how I would rue the day I thought it was a dream.

Prodigy: Chloe Starr

Chloe was sitting at her desk, lost in her own private world. She was just dreaming of stepping onto the stage in Seattle to raucous applause, when...

"C-star! Snap out of it! The bell just rang for lunch! Didn't you hear it?"

C-star. That was Chloe’s best friends' nickname for her. This friend was Miley Jacques, a girl Chloe had taken a liking to the moment she came to America. Literally. Miley's cousin was a flight attendant, and sometimes she came on the plane with him. So that was where they had met. On a plane, squished in a seat with a snoring old man.

Chloe sighed, and followed Miley as they lined up for lunch.

"Do they honestly call this stuff food?" Aiden said as he prodded his cafeteria glop with his fork, wearing a sour expression. Nat sat down next to him.

"Just eat it," he said. "It's the best we’ve got.”

"I'd settle for less," Aiden grumbled, pushing his tray away. "I'm not eating it."

Nat rolled his eyes. "And people wonder how you stay thin."

"Not my fault," Aiden said haughtily, and folded his arms.

"All your fault."

"You enjoy antagonizing me, don't you?"

"Yup."

“You’re a right foul git, you do know that?”

“Anything else?”

Aiden sighed and brushed a strand of long blonde hair out of his eyes. "Hopeless," he muttered. He looked up. "When do we leave?" he added. "I want to finish that snowball fight Miley and I started."

Nat looked to the heavens. "So help me," he cried weakly. "Aiden..." he grabbed his twin's head and pointed it in the direction of the clock.”Do you see that?"

"Yeah," Aiden said slowly. "What about it?"

"Can you tell time?"

"Yes."

”Well, when the big hand reaches the ten, it's time to leave. Do — you — under — stand?"

"Oh, yeah, I get it now."

"Great, thickhead. Just great."

Nat needn't have wasted his breath on bitter words, because Aiden was no longer listening. He was staring ahead with a glazed look in his eyes. Nat groaned softly. He knew that look. The only time Aiden got that look was either they were in Social Studies, or he was staring at Chloe Starr.

Probably the latter.

She raised her hand to be dismissed, and soon the other fifth graders followed suit. Aiden stayed put. Nat jerked Aiden out of his reverie by saying, "Aiden! The bell!"

"Wha—" Aiden looked around, then raised his hand.

"I got you, Mariah, you know I did!" Aiden shouted to Miley. They were in the midst of a furious snowball fight, which, for some mysterious reason, had never been outlawed at their school.

"It's Miley, not Mariah, for the umpteenth time," she shouted back. "And you did not hit me!"

"Did too!"

“Did not!"

"Did too!"

Miley rolled her eyes and planted a well-aimed snowball right between his eyes. That settled their argument, but it also gave Miley ten minutes on the bench and a lecture about "collar and bellow" by the duty. It used to be "waist and bellow", but the snowball fanatics held such a strike that the school was forced to raise it. Miley sat back on the bench and watched the snowball fight as it raged on. Aiden got whacked several more times, and when the bell finally rang, he was black and blue all over and had a nice red welt forming where Miley had nailed him in the forehead. He was beaten and grinning when they got back to the classroom. He smiled at Chloe, who took a step back and said, “What happened to your face?”

His smile faded faster than Lisa Mays’ hand could hit the air, and for those who don’t know, that’s pretty fast.

“That’s not nice,” he said.

“Seriously, though,” said Chloe concernedly. “What happened to your face?”

Aiden grimaced. “Dear Mariah over there,” he said, and jerked a thumb at Miley. She smiled sweetly.

“What, little ol’ me?”

Aiden glared at her.

“Yes, you!” he fumed. “And don’t play innocent with me. I’m not going to forget that too soon.”

Miley rolled her eyes. “So I gathered,” she sighed.

Aiden was about to retaliate, but Chloe decided to interfere before things escalated. Which they usually did.

“Oi, guys, just let it rest. We don’t want a big breakout like we had last week. Just go put your snow pants away and breathe.”

Aiden and Miley looked furiously at Chloe, trying to find some reason to keep arguing. Aiden did, saying loudly:

“The spot on my head isn’t getting better with apologies or deep breaths, the only thing that’s going to make me feel any better is hitting Miley in the head with a hard-packed snowball!”

Miley went to say something back, but Chloe hissed irately: “Teacher coming! Duck!”

Aiden dived behind the coat rack, accidently knocking his head on the wall hidden by all the coats. There was a pause, then a long, muffled groan. Miley crouched down by the coat hangers and said to Aiden, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Friends?” Aiden’s voice was three octaves higher in pain, but Miley smiled and held out her hand.

“Friends.”

Chloe breathed a contented sigh of relief.

The rest of the day passed like any other day, with the exception of the class being even less concentrated than usual. They were mostly concentrated on Aiden, whose head was wrapped in gauze from the office. Anyone who had ever been whacked in the head by a snowball thrown by a pro snowball thrower and then bashed their head against a wall exceptionally hard in the same hour would have an idea of how he felt.

Currently, he wished he could pass out on the spot. Actually, that would’ve been a possibility if Nat hadn’t been nudging him every five seconds and whispering, “Psssst! Hey! How’s your head?” and “You okay?”

Prodigy: Aiden & Nathaniel

Aiden rolled over in bed. The covers were so soft...so warm...and he was so... sleepy...

WHUMP. Aiden groaned in pain and misery. Nathaniel's knees had landed square on his back, and Aiden was sure he felt his spine snap in five different places.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" Nat shouted, now bouncing up and down on Aiden's back.

“Nat...please..." Aiden gasped. Nat stopped bouncing. "You up now?"

"Yup," Aiden wheezed. "Oh, my back..."

Nathaniel was Aiden's twin, and he was a bit more energetic, to put it mildly.

Nat then jumped off Aiden's back and ran downstairs. Aiden sat up, stretched, and got out of bed. He pulled off his P.J.s and searched in his hamper for something clean to wear.

When he went down to breakfast, he saw Nat sitting at the table eating cereal, Alex with his head in his History book, and Chase in his bathrobe sipping a cup of coffee and looking very cranky indeed.

"Morning, Chase," said Aiden brightly, enjoying his older brother's misery.

"Mumble-mumble-mumble."

"I love you, too!"

Aiden sat down, laughing, when he was Shhhhh! -ed by Alex who was doing last-minute studying, as usual.

Aiden gave Nat a meaningful look, and they both burst into silent giggles. Alex rolled his eyes and said, "Will you PLEASE be quiet?"

Nathaniel and Aiden hushed up at once, trying very hard not to look at each other. Aiden cleared his throat loudly and began eating his cereal at top speed. Nat threw himself under the table. Chase groaned, stood up, rearranged his bathrobe, and mumbled something like 'more coffee' and walked away.

Aiden finished up his cereal, looked at his watch, and screamed at Chase that they were late for school. Then there was complete chaos as everyone struggled to get ready.

A typical morning in the Wilson house.

School

“Aiden. Aiden. AIDEN!” Nat waved his hand vigorously in front of Aiden’s face. Aiden had a glazed, dreamy look on his face, and he was staring determinedly forward. Nat didn’t need to look in the direction Aiden was staring to know just what he was staring at.

Chloe Starr. Aiden’s true love. Well at least, he liked her, but she didn’t like him. All the other girls in the fifth grade couldn’t understand why she didn’t like him, because he and Nat were, after all, the cutest boys in school. Giggle, giggle.

It was that moment that the bell rang. Aiden sighed, hitched his backpack higher up on his shoulder, and walked into the building. His eyes never left Chloe.

Chloe Starr, all of her close friends agree, was too popular for her own good. Aiden was only one in a ridiculously long line of admirers.

It’s just getting plain annoying, she thought, as they entered the classroom. She looked over at Aiden. He was staring at her incessantly, as usual. Chloe rolled her eyes. Typical Aiden. She gave him a look, and he smiled and waved energetically at her. She scowled. He stuck out his out his lower lip. She shook her head violently, making frustrated gestures at him. Suddenly, Nat jumped into the picture, knocking Aiden aside with a loud “Oof!”

“Sorry,” Nat looked down. “Didn’t see you there.”

Aiden stood up, massaging his back. “Right, Nat,” said Aiden, looking hard at his twin. “Didn’t see me.”

Chloe cleared her throat. “Nat? Did you need something?”

“Oh yeah,” said Nat. “I just thought I should drop by to put an end to your silent argument. Bye now!” He then trotted off to his desk, which happened to be right next to Aiden’s, and sat down. Chloe and Aiden glared at him.

“Now today, class, we will be having a Science pop quiz,” said their teacher, Ms. Robinson. More than a few groans greeted this news.

“I know this is unexpected, but that’s what pop quizzes are. Taking away the unexpected would be taking away all the pizzazz.”

Ms. Robinson is a hip teacher, one has to admit, but one also has to admit that pop quizzes don’t have any pizzazz.

“Now, would anyone like to pass them out?”

Lisa Mays promptly (and a little pompously) raised her hand. Ms. Robinson, inevitably, handed them to her. Lisa began passing them out, looking very smug indeed.

“Teacher’s pet,” Nat muttered to Aiden once Lisa had passed their table. “She thinks she’s so great.”

Aiden just looked miserably down at his test. “Well,” he sighed. “I guess we’d better start.”

“Pssst! What’s the answer to question eighteen?” Aiden whispered.

“I dunno,” said Nat, who was still on question sixteen. Aiden was shocked. Nat had never failed to answer a question before. Aiden was oblivious to the fact that his brother was not on question eighteen, and would perfectly well know what the answer to it was. “Now I’m gonna fail the pop quiz and get an F in Science!” cried Aiden. “Noooo…”

This was a whispered conversation, thankfully, and the teacher had not caught wind of it. Yet.

“Oh, stop being a prat!” Nat muttered. Aiden gave him big, round gray eyes.

“That’s not very nice,” he pouted.

“That is fantastic, now will you please shut up?”

Aiden rolled his eyes. “Oil and water, guy and girl, humor and realism.”

“Nice try, but you’re still quoting Garfield,” Nat chuckled.

“I put it in my own words!”

“Barely.”

“Well, I think-”

“Aiden!” Nat cut in harshly with sharp look at his brother. He was not in the mood for Aiden’s antics.

“Sorry…”

“Boys! Will you please stop bickering and get popping on those quizzes!”

Ms. Robinson rounded on them. Aiden and Nat both slapped their hands to their foreheads in a salute, saying simultaneously, “Sir yes ma’am! I mean ma’am yes sir! I mean-“

“That’s enough, boys,” Ms. Robinson practically shouted, but she couldn’t resist cracking a smile. The twins had an influence over their teachers, which was the only thing that kept them out of trouble.

About fifteen minutes later, everyone was done their quizzes and Ms. Robinson went to collect them. In Ms. Robinson’s classroom, after she collected her students’ quizzes, she would read off the names and grades. Each student would come to pick up his or her graded quiz, and whoever got 100% on it would get a Jolly Rancher.

Those are pretty cool standards, thought Aiden as “Graden, 82%,” was called up.

Too bad Nat and I are at the bottom of the list alphabetically with ‘Wilson’ as a last name.

“Alivia, 95%.”

Good for you, Alivia, thought Aiden dully.

“Robin, 77%.”

Oh, lovely.

“Max, 83%.”

Oh, joy.

“Aimee, 100%. Come get your rancher, Aimee.”

Oh, our first one hundred.

There was a smattering of applause as Aimee flounced up to Ms. Robinson to take her quiz and accept her candy.

“Adam …eh, 59%.”

Oh, score.

Adam Gates went up to claim his terrible grade with a skip in his step. He had never been one for tests, and he usually got awful grades on them. He never actually cared whether he failed a test or not, so long as he got passed on to the next grade. He hadn’t been held back yet, to the great surprise of his peers. It was now common knowledge that he got nearly the worst grades in the fifth year.

He strutted up to the front desk and took his quiz from Ms. Robinson with a curt “Thenkoo.” He then waltzed back to his desk, promptly falling out of his chair as he sat down. Few noticed, but Miley Jacques giggled and blushed after Adam fell. He jumped up, threw his head back, stuck his finger in the air, and cried,

“I am OKAY!”

Ms. Robinson cleared her throat and said loudly,

“That was quite a disturbance, Adam. Now would you mind sitting down the right way, please?”

Adam turned bright red, and covered up his embarrassment by concentrating hard on not falling out of his seat.

Several people snickered, but Ms. Robinson decided to ignore this new development (a very wise choice on her part), and plow on with the grades.

“Miley, 98%. So close. Nice try.”

Miley stomped her foot on the ground in frustration. The utter unfairness of it all. Why had Aimee got a hundred and she hadn’t?

Ms. Robinson continued on with the names as though somebody were actually listening. A few others got 100s. Finally she made it to the end. This was the moment. Nat and Aiden crossed their fingers instinctively under their desks, saying simultaneously under their breath,

“Oh please, God, let it be a hundred…”

Drumroll, please.

“Nathaniel, 100%. Congratulations, Nat. Well done.”

Nat threw himself out his seat, punched the air triumphantly, ran up to the front of the room and shouted,

“Who da man? Who da man?”

“You da man,” said Aiden quietly, rolling his eyes.

Nat then took his paper, saying in a highly enunciated British accent,

“I thank you sincerely, mademoiselle.” He then held out his hand in fancy gesture, offering it to Ms. Robinson. To the rest of the class’s great surprise, she actually giggled like a young schoolgirl, and allowed Nat to formally kiss her outstretched hand.

The class gaped as Nat said “All yours,” and backed away, bowing deeply. He was still bowing by the time he had managed to moon-walk back to his desk, where Aiden leaned over and whispered out of the corner of his mouth,

“Kiss ass.”

Nat snickered. “It’s effective.”

Even Aiden couldn’t argue with that.

After Aiden was called up with a mere 99%, and he endured gloating jeers from his brother, it was time for math. Aiden fumed silently for several moments before taking out his math book and trying to focus on what the teacher was saying. But instead of turning on the overhead like she usually did, she told the class to wait quietly for her, and stepped outside.

The class as a whole leaned toward the door, automatically trying to listen in to Ms. Robinson’s conversation. All they could hear was excited whispering. When Ms. Robinson reopened the door, however, everyone straightened up in their seats and looked to the front as though they were perfect little angels.

Ha, ha. Fat chance.

Ms. Robinson practically bounced to the front of the room, beaming.

“Okay, class, I’d like you to meet someone. He is---“---she stole a glance in Aiden and Nat’s direction---“another new addition to our class. I’d like you to welcome him with open arms.” She looked toward the door. “Come on in sweetie, they won’t bite.”

A shy-looking boy with long red hair that covered his eyes, a red-white-and-blue tie dye shirt and faded Old Navy jeans walked slowly into the room. Ms. Robinson put her hand on the boy’s shoulder and said,

“Class, I’d like you to meet Christopher Wilder.”

Christopher muttered something unintelligible.

“What was that, dear?”

“I said it’s Chrissy.”

Ms. Robinson smiled. “Well, then,” she said. “Chrissy it is.”