1. Flood

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Philip could see Fletcher Handerson clearly from where he was sitting.

The library was quiet and people went on about their work.

Philip liked coming to the library for many reasons. Maybe he liked going to the library because he knew he had to get used to it since he didn't have many friends.

He had learned to love the rough and feeble sounds of pages being flipped, pencils being used on a rough sheet of paper, the smell of Fletcher Handerson's cologne also happens to be one of them.

He didn't learn to love the scent, he was addicted to it.

Sitting on a cozy couch that was placed in front of the beautifully decorated walls of the library, Philip stared at Fletcher. He observed how Fletcher's dark black hair fell into his face once in a while, the way he holds his pencil in a loose grip, the fat watch that he suited on his wrist--everything, Philip was addicted to.

Philip never put his mind to the possibility of being in love with Fletcher Handerson. He liked (maybe even loved) everything about the dark-haired boy, but his idea of love was far fetched.

Philip brought his gaze back to the book that he was reading; The Monster Calls by Patrick Ness.

He was just about to read the second story when a tap on his shoulder alerted him of another presence.

His heart was fast-beating but he maintained a neutral face and looked up.

Fletcher Handerson was gazing down at him, looking impatient.

"Hello?" Philip greeted confidently, calming his thudding heart, not making any move to sit up.

"Hey. I was wondering if you had taken down the biology notes for the first chapter."

"Uhm sure," Philip sat up, dusting his pants and clearing his throat.

Fletcher wordlessly occupied one end of the couch once it was free.

Philip was digging through his bag for his notes.

"Here," he mumbled, holding out the notes to Fletcher.

"Oh, thanks," Fletcher muttered. "Philip right?"

He asked glancing down at the cover of the note.

Philip's heart sunk to his stomach when he nodded.

"You'll get it back by tomorrow. I'll give it to you during bio."

Philip nodded, his confidence wavering. He had had enough of Fletcher Handerson for one day, so he stood up wordlessly and waltzed out of the library.

The other boy was looking at Philip's retreating figure when he thought to himself.

Weird.

Philip's mother was humming to herself as she stirred something on the stove when he slammed open the door to his house, immediately greeted by Cougar.

"Philip! That attitude will not be well received!" His mother yelled, glaring at him.

"Sorry," he mumbled and climbed up the stairs to his room, Cougar following him up.

"Tough day at school?" Clyde, his older brother, asked him.

"Shut up," another mumble.

Philip slammed the door shut, unbothered and plopped down on his bed, allowing Cougar to have his fun.

The Tibetan Mastiff was panting, looking tired when Philip stroked him.

"My life keeps saying: 'C'mon man let's fuck him up.'"

Philip chuckled at the bizarre look Cougar was giving him.

"I have to 'take it easy.'" Philip laughed hysterically, tears rolling down his cheeks.

He was sobbing loudly the next second.

Cougar had to witness Philip's shift in the mood. The four-legged animal licked his owner's face and hands vigorously, in an attempt to calm him down. The poor dog was whining and whimpering.

Philip ignored the heavy knocks on his door, and because of that, it was broken down, and a panicked Clyde entered into the room, a metal baseball bat in his gripped in his fingers.

His face crumbled at the sight of his brother sobbing.

Cougar scratched Clyde's pants, looking between the two brothers.

Philip reached out for his brother, who wasted no time in hugging him tightly as the younger boy sobbed loudly, speaking gibberish.

Mrs Fork watched sadly at her two boys hugging each other. She had always felt so helpless whenever Philip had an episode similar to this.

Clyde pulled away from his brother once the sobs had subsided and looked at his mother, requesting her to bring the tub of ice cream inside the freezer.

"Better?" Clyde asked softly, holding his brother by his nape.

Philip nodded.

Clyde sighed.

"You want to tell me why this happened?" Clyde slung an arm around his brother's shoulder.

Philip shook his head.

The older boy sighed and pressed his forehead with his brother's for a mere second before pulling away.

Mrs Fork appeared in the door-less threshold of the room and handed Clyde the tub of ice cream, along with a spoon.

"Thanks," Philip mumbled, smiling softly at his mother. "I'm sorry."

His short words broke his mother's heart, and Clyde looked equally sad.

"Shut up, you're being stupid and uncool by apologizing," Clyde muttered opening the cold and partly frozen tub.

Mrs Fork walked inside the room and ruffled her younger son's hair, and smiled at him, her eyes creating wrinkles in the corners.

"Yes, Clyde is correct, you're being momentarily uncool, dear." She rubbed his back.

"I'm not," Philip muttered, digging inside the tub with the spoon.

Clyde smiled fondly at his brother, nudging his shoulder with his.

"Is it about the boy you're crushing on?" Clyde asked after their mother had left the room speaking to herself about contacting Doctor Hades, Philip's therapist.

Philip had his gaze set on the ice cream tub in front of him. The brown mass only made his mouth water, and before he could process what he was about to do, he shoved a full spoon of chocolate ice cream inside his mouth.

He hissed, dropping the spoon inside the tub, clutching his head with his two hands.

"Shit! Phil what's wrong?!" Clyde set the tub aside and held his brother's face.

Philip painfully swallowed the rest of the ice cream and looked at his brother dead in the eyes and spoke slowly, gulping.

"Brain freeze."

--

The author prevails in another whole damn universe I tell ya.

Aye you author, come back down! Philip's got a goddamn brain freeze!

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