Werifesteria

• || three || •

Tick. Tick. Tick.
Tick. Tick. Tick.

The cafeteria was bustling with loud, bouncing students who were jumping around, tossing food at one another and yelling swears at one another.

Logan was sitting by himself, happily munching on a BLT that he'd made before school and sipping his Gatorade through a twisty straw—some kids thought that twisty straws were nerdy, but Logan knew the truth, that twisty straws were only the coolest inventions to ever exist—while reviewing the notes he had on the Ryder situation.

Someone plopped down beside him, and Logan jumped. Slightly irritated to be distracted, he glanced up, raising his eyebrow. "Hi, Donald," he said in a gruff voice (or as gruff as it can get for an eleven-year-old).

Across from him sat a dark-haired boy with Asian features and sunken, lifeless eyes, and he was a bit on the pudgy side as well. But despite his clouded gaze, Donald Eckerman had a wide grin planted on his face, revealing yellowed teeth and bright green braces.

"Hey, Logan Taylor!" Donald said eagerly. Logan couldn't decide whether he liked being called by his full name or not. Both he and Penny went by their first and middle names instead of their surnames, and it almost sounded professional being called like that. But also, Donald was annoying, and needed to go away.

Logan returned his gaze to his notes, trying to block the boy out of his mind, but was interrupted by Donald stretching his unnaturally long neck across the table and staring eagerly at Logan's notes. "So, Sherlock, what case have you got today?"

Glaring up at him and sighing, Logan closed his notebook and set it in his lunchbox, which actually was a metal box with Sherlock Holmes and John Watson standing on the front. Despite living in America, Logan was a huge fan of the BBC show, and he learned a lot of his tactics from Sherlock's observational skills in the show. He wasn't great yet, but he knew he was still better than most people.

He could tell Donald about what he was really doing. Maybe he'd gain some popularity in the school. Maybe he'd find himself a trusty sidekick. His own Watson. Maybe he'd have friends, a group of friends, who would protect him and keep him safe from the bullies.

"Nothing of importance," he said instead, closing his lunchbox over his notebook and taking another bite out of his sandwich. "Just some...notes. For a project...in science."

Donald nodded, seeming to believe him without a second thought. "Listen, Logan Taylor, if you're not busy right now, I have a quick question—"

"Actually, I am very busy," Logan interrupted. He gestured to his lunchbox. "I prefer to take my notes alone and without distractions so that no one can copy them."

"I won't copy, I promise," Donald pleaded. "But I'm sitting alone at lunch and even though you're kinda intimidating when you sit alone, I'm not, and I tend to get picked on." His grin widened hopefully. "Pretty please, Logan Taylor? Just today, no talking necessary, we can just sit in silence and you can—"

Logan waved his hand in dismissal. "Don't talk." Without another word, he opened his notebook and continued reviewing his notes on the case. When he saw Donald trying to catch a glimpse of what he was writing, he moved his Gatorade in front of the notebook and raised his eyebrows. "No copying," he said sourly.

"Yes sir, deal sir." Donald furrowed his eyebrows and saluted, then lowered his head and picked an apple out of his pocket, munching on it quietly.

—

"That is why it is true that X is equal to the square root of Y, because X is equal to two, and Y is equal to twenty-four divided by six."

Riley shook his head, looking incredibly frustrated as he threw his pencil down onto the ground and buried his head in his palms. "I don't understand this shit, Taylor, and I never will."