Chapter 3: Portent Fate (مصير نذير)

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Nicholas was up extra early the following morning, in plenty of time to get ready, pack his lunch, and make it to school in time to visit the music lounge and work on a new kick beat he'd been developing. He planned to reveal the song in its completed form at the end of the year dance. That would be sure to make him friends because who didn't like someone who could write deathly-loud heavy metal, right?

What he didn't plan for was his parent's sudden emergency trip to the hospital for what he suspected would turn out to be braxton hicks, leaving him alone with twenty minutes until the first bell and a six-year-old late for kindergarten in tow.

"Come on, Nino!" Nicholas huffed, exasperated as he stared down at the miserable bundled form of his brother, complete with two jeans and three t-shirts plus a jacket three times his size, deciding he looked more like a lemon marshmallow than a human. "I'm going to be late for class and then Ms. Mendeleiev will actually skin me alive!"

"Can't," Nino sniffled, tugging fruitlessly at his coat's zipper as it refused to go up. "Stuck."

"You can unstick it on the way!" Nicholas moaned, already pacing the hall back and forth toward the door. "I have to get you to school so I can go too!"

"Is cold," Nino protested, giving one final jerk and then giving up entirely with a growl of frustration.

Nicholas felt that emotion deeply. "I know," he said practically through gritted teeth as he tried to herd the boy toward the door, swinging his backpack over his shoulders as he did. "It's cold. I'm cold. You're cold. Everyone is cold. You know why that is? Because it's winter. Everything is going to be cold. You know what else we are going to be? Expelled. And then you'll never see your friend again. Mari--whatzit?"

"Marinette," Nino whispered, hurrying to keep up with the older boy as Nicholas finally gave up and drug himself to the front door with a groan and a mutter of, "Tardy. Again."

"Yes, yes, her," Nicholas grunted, waving off his brother's indignation. "Backpack?" he added, pointing to the stairs where Nino's bright orange bag was waiting.

"Got it!" Nino announced, pulling it on and bolting out the door before the teen could find something else to gripe about. Cheeky squirt, Nicholas thought, following suit and closing the door behind them. The winter wind lashed at his exposed face and he sighed out a plume of condensed smoke, tugging his definitely-not-thick-enough coat around his neck and burying his headphones into the rim of his hood. Be very grateful that I love you as much as I do, Akhi, because between you and I, I really don't like this. I should be at school right now, practicing to sway the class and getting girls to swoon over me, not trudging along through three feet of snow to take my little brother to school.

In his defense, Nino had broken him. One look into those brown puppy eyes and he'd been toast. Nino knew it and took the opportunity every chance he got.

"Carry!" Nino demanded, already reaching for his brother's arms, sniffing pitifully and shivering.

Nicholas deadpanned at the act. "Nino, you're six."

"Don't care!"

"You have legs. You know how to walk."

"But not as fun!"

"Ugh. Fine. Whatever." Nicholas crouched down, allowing him to clamber onto his shoulders. "We're already late, right? What's another ten minutes when I die of heat exhaustion from carrying you all the way to school?"

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