Chapter 4

Chapter 4 to "Pearson".

“HOLLY! OVER HERE!”

            I turned my head to see Pearson, standing on top of his chair with his hands cupped around his mouth. What was with him? I could already tell that Pearson was the kind of boy who wanted to make a spectacle, no matter where he was. But I sighed despite myself, clutched my breakfast tray carefully, and walked over to where he was sitting.

            “Hello!” he said brightly. This morning he’s wearing the Valley Academy school uniform: grey trousers, black dress shoes, and a navy blue sweater vest on top of a white dress shirt. Pearson might be beautiful, one of the handsomest boys I’ve ever seen, but that doesn’t make him any less annoying. “How is your first day at Valley Academy?”

            “It just started,” I tell him, taking a seat at the table. The Valley Academy cafeteria is huge, with a never-ending ceiling and a big window looking out onto the mountains. Clusters of tables are spread about the room, with a serving-bar at the end. The food is delicious, something I could tell from last night’s dinner. Today I have a china plate filled with a delicious Greek omlette and a side of honey toast.

            “Sassy!” Pearson says loudly. He turns to his friends, who are sitting across the table eating, and says, “I think Holly has some sass!”

            “Shut up, Pearson,” one of them says. It’s clear they’re used to his antics. “Leave Holly alone.”
            I’m surprised they know my name. You’re the only new ninth grader, I remind myself, and it’s true. It might be the start of a new year, but all the other kids have been here since the earlier grades. Violet said that some of them come in kindergarten. I can’t even imagine sending a five-year old to boarding school, nonetheless one as extravagant as Valley Academy.

            “Who’s your roommate?” Pearson asks me, taking a ferocious bite of an apple. That’s the only thing on his plate. He swings his legs back and forth as he eats, spraying everything in the near-vicinity with fruit juice.

            “Violet,” I tell him. “Violet Josafin.”
            He nods. “You’re lucky. She’s one of my best friends.” He takes another bite of his apple and knocks on the table to get his friends’ attention. “No offense to any of you, or anything.”

            “Okay, Pearson,” one of them says.

            “HEY!” Pearson jumps up, letting his apple core hit the table with a plunk. “I didn’t introduce you to any of my friends, Holly!”

            “Er, it’s alright,” I tell him. I want to hide my head in my hands. Is he mental? I’ve never met anyone so energetic, and embarrassing, in my entire life.

            “Of course not!” Pearson points at one of the three boys. He has a shock of red hair and millions of freckles. “This is Brighton. He’s from Seattle. Although he’s shy at first, when you get to know him, BAM! He won’t shut up!”

            Brighton gives Pearson a murderous look. “Everyone is shy compared to you, Pearce.”

            Pearson isn’t fazed by this comment. He points at the next boy who’s sitting in the middle. He has dark brown skin and dreadlocks. “That’s Elijah. He lives in Washington, D.C. Now, don’t be too intimidated by his impressive physique; he’s like a big teddy bear!”

            “Pearson,” says Elijah in a warning-tone. But he turns to me with a friendly smile on his face. “Nice to meet you, Holly.”

            Pearson points at the remaining boy, and I’m grateful his introductions are almost finished. “Last but not least,” he says. “We have the one and only Hudson, from Chicago. Hudson is a genius with a hundred percent average. Oh, and he’s the romantic interest of a certain Violet Josafin!”

            “Pearson!” cries Hudson. “That was in seventh grade!”

            Pearson just shakes his head. “They had a love affair,” he tells me, turning his head towards me so he can completely ignore Hudson trying to defend himself. “It was quite dramatic, really. They were always kissing behind math textbooks, and such.”
            “We did not,” Hudson stands up, grabbing his lunch tray. “I’m leaving now, Pearson. Nice meeting you, Holly, and I’m sorry you had to put up with my annoying friend.”
            He storms off towards the cafeteria doors, but not before carefully putting his orange juice carton in the recycling bin and lunch tray in a neat stack on top of the others. “That’s Hudson for you,” Pearson tells me, when he sees me watching. “Always a perfectionist.”

            “The opposite of you,” says Brighton from across the table. “I room with Pearson. He thinks that leaving his clothes all over the floor gives the room a special ambience.”

            “And that’s a direct quote,” snorts Elijah. The two boys stand up, trays in hand, and start retreating from the table. “We’re out of here, too. There’s only so much Pearson I can take in a day.”
            “And it’s only seven-thirty,” adds Brighton. The two boys walk off towards the exit doors together. “See you later, Holly,” Brighton calls over his shoulder, and Elijah salutes.

            “They seem nice,” I tell Pearson, taking a bite out of my omlette. It’s delicious, with cheese, vegetables, and spices all mixed up together in warm scrambled egg.

            Pearson nods fondly. “Oh, they are. I know they get annoyed by me sometimes, but we’ve been best friends ever since they came here.”

            Ever since they came here. That means Pearson was here before any of his other friends. “What grade did you come to Valley Academy?” I ask him, my curiosity getting the better of me. I almost don’t want to engage in conversation with him- he has so much energy, genuine kindness, that it seems dangerous to talk to him for too long. Even I can tell that Pearson’s a nice person, and I met him less than twenty-four hours ago.

            “Kindergarten.” He’s done his apple, so he taps his fingers impatiently on the table instead. Is it just me, or is there some kind of hurt in Pearson’s voice? It’s hard to tell, since he talks a mile per minute, but I could almost detect that he was…upset. I do not want to get into this, especially with someone I barely know.

            “Wow. That’s…early,” I say.

            Pearson laughs. “You could say that. My Dad was always pretty busy- he owns an insurance company, and it comes with a lot of work- so finding Valley Academy was like a dream come true. A permanent day care.”

            Oh. That would explain why he’s upset. Who leaves a five-year old at boarding school, just to get the load off their shoulders? “I’m sorry,” I tell Pearson, and I mean it.

            Pearson smiles at me. “Thanks,” he says. “But it’s okay. Brighton came in second grade; Elijah and Hudson weren’t much later. And I love Valley Academy. It’s a lot better than spending time with my father, that’s for sure.”
            “Where are you from?” I ask him. Now I’m interested, and I can’t hold back my curiosity. My father used to call me Curious Holly, after the children’s book Curious George that I loved to read when I was younger.

            “California,” Pearson says. “Los Angeles, to be specific. My Dad owned the penthouse apartment in this ritzy place downtown. I still have to go down during the summer, but it’s not too bad because I can always call Brighton or Elijah. Or Hudson, although he’s not much fun to talk to on the phone.”

            I laugh, but my smile fades when I think about Pearson and his father. “Do you ever miss him?”
            “No.” Pearson frowns. Then h e gives me a small smile to show that his normally exuberant personality is underneath it all. “It’s hard to miss someone who was never really there.”

Author's Note

This is the final installment I have written so far. Tell me: what do you think? Where would you like to see Pearson and Holly go from here? Hope everyone enjoyed it so far, more to come soon!

Reviews

[Jason van Dongen]

Awesome work! I initially questioned your choice to write it in the present tense, but you made it work for you! I was impressed on so many levels. Some passages really stood out for me:

“'Sassy!' Pearson says loudly. He turns to his friends, who are sitting across the table eating, and says, 'I think Holly has some sass!'” --- An excellent choice of words to communicate to the reader that Pearson is a confident, exuberant person without writing, 'Pearson was a confident, exuberant person.' A picture perfect example of showing, rather than telling!

“'Who’s your roommate?' Pearson asks me, taking a ferocious bite of an apple. That’s the only thing on his plate. He swings his legs back and forth as he eats, spraying everything in the near-vicinity with fruit juice." --- What a great way to illustrate Pearson's enthusiasm for life (and apples)!

"Is it just me, or is there some kind of hurt in Pearson’s voice? It’s hard to tell, since he talks a mile per minute, but I could almost detect that he was…upset. I do not want to get into this, especially with someone I barely know." --- Again, a great example of showing, not telling. It also gives Pearson another dimension as a character, and the reader is not left with the bitter taste of a telepathic main character. They are always hard to swallow...

Your work is really good. Where would I like to see it go from here? I would consider making Pearson a time-travelling cyborg with a passion for fashion and a golden voice, who was sent from 2029 to 1993 for the sole purpose of delivering a large box of condoms to a certain Mr. Bieber. Obviously, he is not very good at his job...

Yes, this is a long review. Sorry...

[T. Logan]

I think it's really nice how Pearson is kind of opening up a little more and showing some emotion. and i know i'm two chapters behind, but I'd like to see more of the human side. It's good though, really good.

[BillyGirl]

Great chapter! Some character development going on here. Keep up the great work!

[Bailey C. Writing]

You added character to Pearson and Holly in this chapter, and you did it skillfully. I sense a more sensitive, hurt side of Pearson that has to do with his father's abandonment. These characters have good life to them, this is a well-written chapter for a well-written book :) Onward!

[Harley (arbiter)]

Well hmm... its really your decision where to go from here. Honestly I would like to see some war or racing but that's not what this is about and the masses probably don't want that either. Its a good chapter. And sorry I don't know what ta say on where to go. You're choice!