Chapter 2

"Nate, get up quickly. Blake will be here soon. Come on, get up. You can't be late on your first day of school."

I still felt extremely sleepy when I was pulled out of bed by my mother, Naomi Richmond. She helped me put on the new clothes we had bought a few days earlier.

By the time I was fully awake, I found myself seated at the dining table.

"Naomi!" a voice greeted.

I squinted my eyes against the glaring rays of the morning sun as I looked at the boy entering the house.

The boy was tall and thin. His skin was so fair that it seemed to glow under the sunlight. When he smiled, his upturned eyes seemed to be gleaming. He seemed to emanate light, so much so that it stung my eyes a little.

For a moment, I wondered how to describe this boy before me. He looked like a fox. In fact, he resembled the kind of foxes I saw in nature documentaries—beautiful and cunning, especially with those smiling eyes.

"Oh my. You're here, Blake. Have you had breakfast? Come in and take a quick bite. Nathan, eat faster. Stop dawdling! Blake is already here, and you're still not done," my mom chastised.

She pulled Blake over to the dining table and grabbed a glass to pour him milk.

"I've already had breakfast at home. I'll just wait until Nate finishes eating, and then we can leave," Blake said, patting my fuzzy head.

"Then have a bit of milk. Nate, hurry up and finish your breakfast or you'll be late," my mom urged again.

Upon seeing Blake eyeing me with a smile, I found that the waffle in my mouth didn't taste as good anymore.

I complained inwardly, "Get some food for yourself if you want to eat. Didn't you say you had breakfast at home? Why are you looking at me like you're hungry? You look scary—you're just like that fox in the documentary last night that was planning to snatch the rabbit away!"

"I'm done eating!" I announced.

"Alright, let's go. Give me your bag. I'll carry it for you," Blake said.

"Nate, hold on tight to Blake while you're on the bike. Blake, ride slowly and don't fall. Take care, you two," my mom reminded us.

She sighed heavily when she saw that I was only holding on to Blake's clothes. So, she walked over and placed my chubby hands around Blake's waist. "Hold on to Blake properly!"

Blake smiled and set off with me.

I was at a loss for words as I listened to Blake's chatter all the way. Blake talked a lot. No wonder I used to hit him when he was younger. I couldn't help it since Blake was annoying and always teasing me.

"Nate, wait in the classroom after your lessons. I'll bring lunch over to you. Okay?" Blake reminded me.

"Got it!" I replied impatiently.

I hoped that Blake would just go already! How many times had he said that on the way to school?

"Your expression is so cute, Nate. Now that you're growing up, you're becoming distant, huh? Be good and pay attention in class. I'll come over at lunchtime. If you need anything, come find me in the junior high section. Do you remember the way?"

"Yes, I do. You've taken me there several times!"

"It's good that you remember. Alright, I'm leaving." Blake couldn't resist patting my head again because I was way too adorable.

I sat upright and listened attentively to the teacher's lesson. I had to study hard. Everyone said that Blake was excellent at studying and always ranked first in every exam. I needed to study like him and strive to get the best score to receive praise.

Time passed quickly when I focused. Before I knew it, my lessons were over.

While my classmates headed to the cafeteria together, I sat at my desk and waited for Blake to bring me lunch.

"Nate, it's time to eat. Were you a good boy in class this morning?"

"Yes!"

"And did you understand what the teacher taught?"

"Yes!"

"Then, eat up and take a nap afterward."

"Okay."

"You've grown so much, Nate. You're so shy now, and you're much more reserved than when you were younger. You used to chase me around, and you talked more back then. You were even more lovable when you were little," Blake commented.

"Mom said we shouldn't talk too much while eating. It's not hygienic!" I replied irritably.

"But you didn't talk much to me even before we started eating. Did I do something to upset you, Nate? Is that why you're not talking to me?"

"No, that's not it."

"I'm just teasing you. Look at you, you're blushing! You're becoming shy the more you grow up," Blake teased again.

I was speechless.

"And we're done eating. Did the teacher tell you that you can take a nap at noon? Afternoon classes start at 1:30 pm. You can play for a bit or get some rest. After school, go to Mr. Weyton's office to do your homework and wait for me. Do you remember the way to his office?"

"Yes, I remember."

"Good. I'll come get you after school."

And so, I began my elementary school life accompanied by the talkative Blake. In fact, Blake was great in every way, except he loved teasing me. Sadly for me, I could never win in their exchanges.

Actually, I liked going to school. Unlike other kids, it wasn't because I wanted to make more friends. I didn't enjoy playing with others because they were too noisy. Instead, I preferred playing alone. I would rather watch ants and snails by myself or read and do homework in solitude.

I thought that Blake influenced me a lot. From when I could remember, Blake had taught me to read, write, and recite poetry.

The adults always praised Blake. As I heard those praises daily, I admired Blake deeply and dreamed of being as outstanding as him. I yearned to become a child who everyone liked. Perhaps these external influences shaped my quiet and introverted personality.

My school days repeated themselves in a routine, unchanging manner. The part I enjoyed most was sitting on the back seat of Blake's bike on sunny days. When the breeze gently caressed my face, I would savor the moment. Blake never rode in a way that caused me discomfort.

Sometimes, if I was really sleepy in the morning, I would lean against Blake's back and doze off. But just as I was about to fall asleep, Blake would always wake me up.

Rainy days weren't as nice. I had to wear rain boots and hold an umbrella while Blake carried me on his back. I didn't like being carried by Blake, especially when he made jokes that made me feel somewhat unsettled.

If it didn't rain after school in the afternoon, I would refuse to be carried by Blake. I preferred walking on my own behind Blake.

Blake often couldn't help but laugh at my pattering little feet as I hurried to catch up with him. Sometimes, Blake would deliberately walk fast so that I had to chase him. He loved watching me struggle.

Gradually, I got smarter. I ignored Blake and walked at my own pace, which took away some fun for him.

After some time, Blake somehow learned that I was afraid of ghosts. Whenever they walked home, he'd tell me ghost stories and walk away quickly. I would scream in fear and chase after him.

So, I hated rainy days and disliked Blake even more.

These days passed by without me realizing it. Soon, three years went by. During these three years, I was tormented by Blake's ghost stories and subjected to lectures comparing me to a golden child like Blake when I got home.

Going to school was enjoyable, but taking exams was not. No matter how hard I tried, my scores always hovered in the middle-to-upper range in my class.

In contrast, Blake was always the top scorer in every exam and every subject. So, the annoying adults liked to use Blake as a benchmark to educate me.

Finally, I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. Blake was finally going to leave. The adults said he got into the best high school in the city, which was far away from home. He could only come back on weekends.

That was the best news ever! I couldn't have been happier.

For the past three years, I had nightmares about being chased—either by ghosts or by Blake. It was terrifying. I had heard one too many ghost stories that made me feel like someone was stalking me every night.

Although I would soon be separated from Blake with the start of the new school term, the vacation before school started was still as unbearable as ever.

Once again, Blake was sitting next to me and watching TV.

I finally couldn't hold back and asked, "Blake, why do you always come to my house to watch TV?"

"Nonsense, I'm here to help you with your homework."

"But you're not helping me."

"Well, you haven't asked me any questions, have you? Tell me, when have I ever not answered your questions? So, aren't I helping with your homework? Can't I relax and watch some TV when you're working on your own?"

"But you're always here to help me with my homework. Don't you have any of your own?"

"I'm sacrificing my time to tutor you. Hurry and wrap it up. We'll be having dinner soon."

"But Blake, you're distracting me from doing my homework by watching TV right next to me…" This was my last stand.

Every holiday, whether long or short, Blake would always use the excuse of helping me with my homework to hang around my house. No matter how I opposed it, everyone supported Blake coming over to tutor me.

I was forced to do my homework in the living room every day. Moreover, I had to endure seeing Blake's smug face and listen to his occasional annoying remarks.

Previously, I thought Blake resembled the charming foxes I saw on TV. But now, I felt that Blake couldn't even compare to the mischievous dog that often wandered around the entrance of my house.

At long last, these difficult days came to an end.

I moved up to the fourth grade. Today was my first time walking to school on my own for such a long distance. I felt a bit sad, but when I remembered how Blake's ghost stories had terrorized me, I preferred the peaceful and quiet life I had now.

The irritating, naggy Blake was finally gone from my world.

As it turned out, I had been overly optimistic. Even though Blake was gone, his legend lived on at school. For my teachers and classmates, Blake's amazing feats were a topic that never seemed to get old.

The girls praised his good looks, and the boys wanted to be like him. The teachers always brought him up as the perfect role model that everyone should aspire to emulate.

At such times, everyone would focus their attention on me because they knew I was Blake's first cousin once removed.

Even if I wasn't walking with Blake to and from school anymore, adults would always stop me on the street and say, "Oh, Nathan. Blake is studying in the best high school, leaving you behind. Do you miss him? You should work hard too and aim to get into the same school as him."

At times like these, I felt even more resentful of Blake's existence.

What made it worse was that I would recall the ghost stories Blake had told me when I walked down the street. Those stories became more vivid with time, and I would often find myself running in fear. At night, the ghost stories would haunt and terrify me.

From then on, I developed a habit of not going to the bathroom at night. And this was all thanks to Blake!

That night, I wet the bed. I had woken up in the middle of the night feeling a strong urge to pee. But now that I had my own room, I had no one to accompany him to the bathroom. I was too scared to get out of bed, so I held it in until I fell asleep again. In my dream, I finally managed to relieve myself.

As expected, I woke up to a round of scolding from my mom before going to school in a dejected mood.

This incident caused my dissatisfaction toward Blake to peak, and I nearly broke down. "I wish Blake would never come back!"

How could someone be so annoying? My hatred toward Blake intensified between my miserable sobs.

It was all Blake's fault that I wet the bed. If my teacher and classmates found out, how could I face them? I definitely couldn't let Blake know either, or he'd never stop teasing me!

As this thought came to my mind, I sobbed even more pitifully.