Allen Thorn

I couldn't get the buzzing sensation out of my hands. Nor did I get the strange flowers of warmth to stop stirring butterflies in my guts from her long gone touch. I patted my pockets for my phone and came up empty.

Crap, I thought, where is it?! I sighed, I had the phone connected to a special data cloud so I was able to find the tablet in the seat in front of me and listen to the songs I always did and write from where I left off. However, when I tried to think of what to write my mind went blank and started to loop.

Makayla texted me,
<R u ok?>

I didn't answer her.

<U lost your phone?>

I answered her with texting: <...>

She replied, <🙄 kk>

Sarahlinn Rose

Kayla blinked a few times after I told her all that happened.

"He called you princess?!"

There was an evil smile on her face.

"Give me your phone..."

Allen Thorn

I sat on the Porch, overlooking Downtown Houston and Sugarland. I was typing on my tablet, battling my medication's side effects with soda. Like a battle of taking sleeping pills with Monster Energy drinks, I was to embarrassed to fall asleep.

The sliding glass door opened and a Russian voice greeted,

"Master Thorn?"

Something in his voice told me something was wrong.

"Yes Mr. Oriskinnov?"

"I have someone on the phone for you."

"At this hour?"

He sighed, "It's urgent."

I put the phone to my ear and Mr. Oriskinnov walked away.

"This is Allen Thorn."

A vaguely familiar woman's voice greeted, "Hello, this is Detective McNera and I was needing to ask you some questions."

I froze for a full thirty seconds.

"Mr. Thorn?"

"Yeah, yeah, ask away."

"Where were you around two to three hours before now?"

"Open house for Stafford High East."

"I see." I thought I heard a cough in the background but gave it no mind. "Did you bump into any girls there?"

I blushed, "Um, not really."

I could've sworn I heard a giggle but the woman said, "Oh? Well I have two witnesses here that say you did."

"Mrs. McNera, I'm very tired but I'd like to think that she bumped into me."

"Ah," there was a pause, "did you think she was pretty?"

What in God's name? I thought.

"I-uh, I plead the Fifth."

I thought I heard something stumble in the background.

"I'll take that as a yes Mr. Thorn. One uses the Fifth only to avoid self-incrimination."

I groaned, "Yes I thought she was pretty! Now what's that got to do with anything!?"

"Ah, I see. What about her rack?"

I growled, "I plead the Fifth."

"Ah, do you know Makayla Marthajon?"

"Yes?"

"I found your phone. I told you that I was going to get you back."

Rage roiled in my stomach.

"Makayla?"

"You're on speaker-"

I then barely heard them fight over the phone and someone stumble upon an apology before I pressed the end call button.

"Mr. Oriskinnov?" I called.

He had stayed with calling distance and came to me. My grip tightened up on the plastic block in my hand.

"Yes, Master Thorn?"

"Take this phone before I toss it." I growled.

"The woman told me she was a police officer. Should I report the impersonator?"

"It was the soon-to-be Mrs. Thorn."

"Oh."

I sighed and covered my eyes.

"Bring me computer paper and a mechanical pencil."

"Right away sir."

***

It was several days until the first day of school. The sun was hot, but slightly blocked by a haze of smog that day. I hadn't literally run into any random damsels in distress and felt like Makayla was trying to give me time to cool off. My backpack sat next to me in the car. No, not just my backpack: my gym bag (which I wasn't planning on using), my writing bag, and then my backpack. I was going to be lugging around three bags for like one-hundred-eighty and too many days.

Here's the worst part: no phones, iPods, MP3s, boom boxes- just no music okay? And I need my Skullcandy for a special sweet tooth. Part of me loathed the thought of all the ignoramuses that I was going to have to put up with and writing and drawing may be my only retreats.

"Allen," my brother called.

Writing and drawings come from the confines of the mind, and my brother's voice reached through them.

"It's not going to be that bad."

I snorted a laugh and tried to joke it off, "You're right, it will be worse."

"C'mon," Mr. Oriskinnov said, "worst case scenario you kill someone and I hide body. Used to do it for Russian Mafia all the time."

I don't know why but Mr. Oriskinnov's third party comment really made me laugh. Anxiety was pooling at the pits of my stomach and I felt some relief as we were dropped off at school. Looking at the massive building, it made me feel like an ant, or more like a worm intruding an ant hill. Any moment I will be devoured.

Just walking in the door I spied a jock reclining in front of the door with his arms crossed. "Well, well, well," he said as we walked past, "Lo and behold."

I ignored him, biting my tongue so I didn't spit a retort or chastisement. Mr. Oriskinnov could still see me and someone was annoying us. This is going to be a long school year.