CHAPTER FIFTEEN

A week has passed. I haven’t heard from, Xavier since, Oliver and, Daisy’s engagement party. He might’ve went to the hospital or something. Or maybe he’s too embarassed to talk to anyone. Or maybe he is planning world domination and needs all this time to make sure everything goes according to plan. Who knows. The guy is different.

Haven’t seen, Rick online either. Not since he went home with the Van Nuys sisters. I heard he got into it with the brothers, but came away with nothing but bruises and an interesting story to tell. Unfortunately, I also heard his ex-wife came back with a lawyer and wants to take the house, the cars, and the dog.

Jack, ture to his word, as always, has been hitting the pavement hard. He hit the ceiling at his work. No way he can get any higher because in his department a person can’t get any higher. And he has car payments, house payments, cell phone payments, and all that other normal stuff type of payments. So he’s looking for another job. One where he can have a little bit more elbow room.

Oliver has been spending a lot of time with, Daisy. Mostly damage control for what happened at their party, but also to get himself used to a life outside of Battlecry Online. To become a regular joe, with a regular job, and a regular life.

The only one online with me is, Bob.

“So, Corn,” says, Bob over his staticy microphone, “What you been up to today?”

“Nothing much.” I reply. “Just chilin’. Farming. Grinding xp. Ganking Legion. The usual.”

“That’s cool.” Bob says.

And I continue what I’m doing and he continues what he’s doing. We don’t talk for several minutes. Most likely we just don’t have a lot to say to each other. But after an hour or so of us in our own separate little worlds in the world of Battlecry, I suppose it’s better to talk to someone you don’t like than no one at all. Humans, ya know. Genetically social creatures.

“Hey, you talk to, Xavier lately?” Asks, Bob.

“Uh…” I reply awkwardly, “Since the par…party…?”

“Yeah, fool. Since I knocked his ass out.” Bob says proudly. “I don’t know what was wrong with his dumb ass. I was trying to be cool. You saw. But he had to keep pushing me and pushing me. Fuck, man. I didn’t want to do it. But I had no choice.”

Bob is twice the size of earth. Big ass fucker. Xavier, he’s six feet tall, weighs a good 185 pounds, and pretty well built. He’s quick, smart, and is fairly strong. It’s not like he can’t fight. Half the fights, Bob has been in, and they sure are a lot of them, Xavier was right there next to him giving and taking as many bumps and bruises.

“You got him with a lucky shot.” I say. “That’s all.”

“What’re you talking about, fool. I two-shotted his ass! Got him! BLAM BLAAAAM! To the face! Hahahahahaha! Did you see him fly in the air? Shit, man, I even surprised myself!!!! Hahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!”

“I’m not saying you didn’t get him, all I’m saying is that it shouldn’t have been that easy. It was like he let you hit him.”

“Let me hit him? Fuck you, Corn. I hit him before he could even react! BLAM! twice! BLAM BLAAAAAM!! Hahahahahahahaha!”

That fucking laugh is so annoying.

“Okay. You got him. You got him good.” I say, just to try and end this conversation. So I can go back to Battlecry Online.

“Look, man.” Bob says. “I told you, I didn’t want to kick his ass. He smashed a fucking cigarette on my face. In front of everyone! What else am I gonna do?”

“Yeah. I saw.”

“I mean, c’mon, man, he can be a dick sometimes, to me especially, but I would never want to hurt the guy. He’s cool. In a weirdo way. With all his weird ass art shit. All that art shit that he does. With those weirdo art shit people. Wearing beanies in the summer and fucking flowery open shirts. Pink. Those big ass fucking boots. Talking about the president and shit. Making it rhyme and fucking shit. Weird asses, man. Werid asses. Makes perfect sense for, Xavier, though. He’s always been like that.”

That’s true. Bob calls it weird shit. I call it, Xavier stuff. I think it’s cool.

“And that’s cool,” continue, Bob on cue. “All I’m saying is that I’ve never understood the guy. I want to, not in a gay way, just to see how he works. Coz he’s a cool dude. Helped me out a lot, ya know. But I just never knew how to talk to that fool. I never got a chance to get to know him.”

“Well, you were always talking shit abotu the stuff that he did. That don’t really make a person want to open up, ya know.”

“Shut the fuck up, Doctor Corn. When the hell did you become a physchologist? All I’m sayin’ is that if he were normal, we’d have got along better.”

“What do you mean normal?”

“Normal, motherfucker, normal. Like watches regular TV, talks about regular shit, listens to regular music, does regular shit. Like the rest of us.”

Regular, normal, every day type of stuff. Sounds boring, to be honest.

“I guess, man.”

“It’s not normal to take trapeze class for the fuck of it! He wasn’t in the fucking circus? Why the fuck trapeze class? I didn’t even know there were classes for trapeze!”

“He said to get in shape.”

“Then why not go to the gym? That’s what I’m talking about, man. He doesn’t do regular shit! Remember when he was working at that international school?”

“The one where presidents of other countries sent their kids?”

“Yeah. Kings and ambassadors and shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Remember that fool, one week after he got the job, he shaved his head into a mohawk and dyed it red, white, and blue?”

“Haha! Oh yeah! That was funny! He got fired real fast!”

“See, that’s what I mean, man. He ain’t normal. He’s a fucking weirdo. Ya know, he just does all the shit he does to get a reaction. Just to see what the fuck someone is going to do. He likes that shit. Getting people to feel uncomfortable and seeing how they’re going to react. Pushing people’s buttons until they have to do something about it.”

Bob was right.

“But, ya know, I think that’s why I like him.” I say. Really meaning it.

Bob goes quiet for a while.

“Yeah.” Bob agrees. “That’s why I feel bad for kicking his ass.”

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