Dane and Zion

Chapter 13

Chapter 13

~Dane~

       "So I have a completely random question," Zion said. "This just popped into my mind, completely unprovoked. For the poem we're studying in English class, what is the literary device found in line three?"

       "That would be..." I began, but then I realized exactly Zion asked me that 'completely random question'. I should have figured it out as soon as he said he had a question to ask, considering he still had his homework out. 

       Since I didn't finish the sentence, Zion said, "Continue."

       "You can't just ask me for the answers," I said. "You have to try to figure them out for yourself."

       Zion sighed heavily, lying down on the bed and resting his head on his homework. "I give up. I don't want to go school anymore."

       "All because you can't figure out the literary device?" I asked.

       "No, I could probably figure it out," Zion said. "I'm just too lazy to give it a chance. It's kind of hard anyway when I'm too busy thinking about that amazing idea you told me before we went to work."

       "You mean the music video?" I asked.

       "Exactly," Zion said, sitting up again. "I'm all hyped for it now. So technically, it's your fault that I can't focus on my homework."

       "Just give it a shot," I said. "It really isn't that hard. It took me, like, five minutes."

       "Yeah, but you're also a professional songwriter," Zion said. "Isn't poetry and writing songs kind of the same?"

       "You'd be surprised," I said. 

       Surprisingly, Zion went back to working on his homework. He was sort of known for never doing his homework or turning it in late. In fact, his teachers always assumed that he didn't do his homework and were always surprised when he did.

       The fake baby started crying and since Zion was doing his homework, I was the one who got off of the bed to take care of it. I thought it would be fine just leaving it in its carseat, but Zion insisted on making a bed for it. The bed was just a bunch of blankets on pillows on the window seat.

       "Oh, perfect timing," Zion said. "She's crying and I feel like crying. We can cry together."

       "Why do you feel like crying?" I asked.

       "One word," Zion said. "Homework."

       "You're dramatic."

       "Thank you."

       "Wasn't a compliment."

       "It sure sounded like one, so I'm taking it as one."

       I just smiled as I rolled my eyes before picking up the fake baby. Once the bracelet I was wearing registered with the baby, I tried to figure out why it was crying and how to stop it. My initial guess was that it was hungry, since it hadn't eaten in a while and sure enough, it was. It happily accepted the bottle that came along with it, so I had to sit on the window seat as I fed it.

       "You're pretty good at that," Zion said.

       "At what?" I asked. "Making the fake baby stop crying? It's not that hard. It's either hungry, needs a burp, needs a diaper change, or needs to be rocked. It's not that hard."

       Zion was silent for a bit, just staring at his homework but I didn't think he was trying to focus on it or anything. It looked like he was wanting to say something, but didn't know how to.