Good Times and Bad

A Chapter by Gefferin

Hightower International Academy, a long-standing academic establishment that houses the most diverse, and academically successful, set of students in the world. Some of the most successful people graduated from this school. Everyone starts as an unknown. Every student is hand picked. One student in particular is going to either make it or flop. This student, Romén Randia, is just starting his freshmen year. With no friends, it will be a tough beginning. This is where we start our journey.

It is still dark. The grandfather clock can be seen through the open door. It reads 3:30. The inside of Romén’s house is painted a pale blue with green stripes. His bags neatly stacked by the door.

“Come on Romén! You will miss the flight!” Yelled his mother who had a thick English accent and a hint of drowsiness.

“Coming! Don’t want to forget my stuff.” His accent was not as thick as his mother.

“We’ll be waiting in the car. You have five minutes.”

“Okay. Where’s my phone and film equipment?” He says while looking under his bed. “Here it is.” He pulls a suitcase and opens it. Inside the case are a camcorder, an extra battery, a charger, and an extra tape. “Where is my mic stuff? I remember it’s in my closet.” Just as he pulls it out he hears the car horn. “Time to go.” And with that he grabs the suitcases and runs out the door. He gets in the car and he and his parents drove off to the most prestigious academic establishment in the world.

The car ride to the airport was long, being as it was almost 160 kilometers away. Romén longed to be rid of his parents prideful squealing. It has almost driven him mad during the two-hour ride to the airport.

When they finally arrived, Romén exited the car and grabbed his bags with haste. This angered his parents. They said, “Romén, need I remind you of your priorities when you land?”

Romén sighed and rolled his eyes, “No mother, but I could use about twenty quid.”

His mother looked at him wide eyed and disbelieving, “What for?” She exclaimed.

“In flight entertainment. The next book of the series came out at midnight. I would like to own it for the flight.” He looked at her with a pathetic look on his face. It was not working. He stuck out his bottom lip. Finally his mother gave in.

“Here.” She said while holding out the money. “Make sure you call when you land. And when you get on the shuttle. And when you arrive. And-”

“Mom! I get it.” He cut her off. It made her rather agitated. But she calmed herself for this is a time of happiness. She hugged him, rather hard. “I am going to school not joining the Royal Air Force.” This made all three of them laugh. She let go of him with a sigh. He was taller than his mother by about 13 centimeters. Romén was never away from his parents for longer than the day. This made Romén struggle a little. He and his father just shook hands. His father spoke. He said, “Make me proud boy.” Romén nodded with a smile. His mother’s eyes filled with tears as he walked off toward the terminal.

“Now boarding International flight 954 to Clearwater International.” A lady with a thick Irish accent said quite a bit of enthusiasm.

Romén knew had had barely enough time, if he ran, to get his book and get on the plane. He took off as fast as he could toward the little shop by the terminal. He dodged wave after wave of departing people. I chuckled to himself, thinking about how difficult it would be if he hadn’t checked his stuff in before he entered the building.

He reached the bookstore sweating and out of breath. The man behind the counter was reading the latest issue of Edge magazine. He looked up, saw Romén, and continued to read. Romén started searching for this book he wanted. He found the section of the author’s books. He quickly scanned the wall. And saw an empty spot where the particular book, his book should be. A rare wave anger passed through him, but quickly subsided. Romén was a naturally calm person. No matter the situation he always managed to keep his head on straight. He walked up to the counter. The man behind the counter did not acknowledge Romén’s presence. Romén stood up straight and spoke.

“Excuse me,” His voice got the man’s attention. “Do you happen to have a copy of The Pilgrims Of Rayne in your back room somewhere?”

The man looked at him and raised one eyebrow. “I’ll check for you.” The man was gone for less than five minutes with a book that had an unruly looking person on the cover. “This it kid?”

Romén’s eyes lit up. “Yes that’s the one.” The man behind the counter sighed and said, “That’s fifteen pounds, forty-two pence.”

Romén checked his watch. 6:30AM. He tossed the twenty on the counter and took off toward the terminal. “Last call for International Flight 954 to Clearwater International.” Came the eccentric young lass over the Intercom. The amount of people increased exponentially since he last traversed the enormous airport. He finally made it. He looked around. He saw the Gate. He made a mad dash for it. The attendant was heading toward the gate opening. Romén made it just in time to catch the attendant.

“Excuse me miss I need to get on that flight.” He said as he huffed for air. He was out of it. The attendant looked at him. Smiled and let him on. Relieved, he found his seat and laughed to himself. He made it. He was on his way to academic greatness.

As the plane raced across the Atlantic Ocean, Romén worked hard to fight off the tears forming in his eyes, as he thought about the friends he would not see in a long time. He thought about the good times he had with Charles Lackland, the tall red haired boy from Yorkshire, Simon Crowne, The shorter stocky boy next door, William and James Cromwell. He remembered their Cricket games in the empty lot behind the Surplus store. He remembered the simpler times before she came. She was a person who no matter how much he tried he could not forget. She was the only American he had ever known. Those times were good, for a while anyway. Romén wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms, but as fate would have it he waited too long and that started the end of a good friendship not only between the two but his best friend, Marcel Letourneur.

Before he realized it a hand was on his shoulder, his face wet with tears. Embarrassed by his emotional display, he quickly made his way to the lavatory.