VOXISTALE: Novel Edition

Chapter 3

A dirty blonde, shaggy-haired boy stood behind the school, leaned up against a wall. He was slightly taller than the average sixteen year old, and had a good enough build. He was desperately trying to rub away a lip mark made of lipstick on his arm, but to little avail, before he decided to give up and concealed it with his sleeve. His attire consisted of a regular black t-shirt, covered by a thin dark gray hoodie with a white hood and white strings, zipped up only halfway. His jeans were of the darker variety, and skinnier than Gregory's, the knees less faded and more torn open, his shoes a similar black sneaker to Greg, but lacking any laces at all. He was standing a few meters away from the double doors into the cafeteria, which were pushed open by his two best friends; Frisk Dreemurr and Gregory Favian.

"We haven't hung out here since the middle of last year," Greg commented, his eyes clearly showing he was beginning to reminisce about their freshman year.

Terrence Anoma grinned widely, looking from Greg, to Frisk, before his grin widened even more. "There's the birthday girl," Terrence said, winking. "The big one-six, Frisk, how's it feel?"

Greg's face flushed, "That was today . . . ?" he looked ashamed and embarrassed at the same time. Frisk awkwardly chuckled.

"Uh . . . fine. I guess," she usually wasn't much of a shy person, anyone knew that. However, she always did get shy when receiving direct compliments or congratulations of the sort for reasons nobody really knew why. Frisk just didn't like the attention, if her inner thoughts earlier hadn't already made that clear.

"Trust me, Frisk, this is a whole new chapter for you. You know, driving, independence, uh . . . driving. Yeah, mostly driving."

"So, why did we come out back here?" Greg wondered.

"Because I can't wish anyone happy birthday with a crowd," Terrence rolled his eyes, gesturing to the door. Greg bit his cheek as he looked through the door's windows, watching a group of pretty girls at a nearby lunch table glance repeatedly at Terrence.

"Well, let's stay out here for a little longer," Frisk said. "I have an update about the . . . about the . . . it. A thing about the thing."

"Oh, geez,you mean the thing?" Terrence's friendly attitude seemed to sink into a worried one. "What happened?"

"The same as usual," Frisk said, "but I think it was staring through my window this time."

Terrence sighed, "You gotta be kidding . . . like, directly at you?"

"Yes."

"When did they leave?"

"I don't know."

Terrence bit his lip, "You gotta tell Toriel. Or call the police."

"I know, I know . . ." Frisk sighed. "It's just . . . I don't know. For some reason, my heart is telling me not to. Like somehow, by not telling my mom, I'm saving her from something."

"If you don't, we'll come over to your place," Greg stated. "She needs to know. We want to help, but you need to let an adult know about this guy."

"Come on, Frisk, think about this logically. Creepy stalker man outside your house. If you tell Toriel, the chances of that man going away increase, because she'll either A) have him arrested, or B) kick the shit out of him, because your mom is really cool and scary. Not telling her is like inviting this guy to keep coming back, you know?"

Frisk folded her arms, "I know- I know all of that. I know what I'm supposed to do. I know what I need to do . . . but I have . . . trouble."

"Then we'll come over to help you," Greg offered.