Young Writers Society

Three Years Ago

Payne:

"You're a writer, aren't you, Jon?"
I looked up, glancing from my grandmother to Jonathan Maple, the founder of whom Maple County was named for. In his early twenties, Jon was thin, with black untidy hair and thin wirey glasses like Harry Potter's. He was best known not for his bestselling, off-the-chart books, but for playing the role of Patch in the movie Where Dead Ferns Grow and Bloody Screams Ring.
"Well, yeah, I am. I'm actually working on a piece of work right now, but something majorly important has sorta popped up." Jon replied.
"Hey, Jonathan?" said a new voice from the top of the stairs. We all turned to face a boy about my age, maybe a few months younger, clad in all black that clashed with his tan-tinted white skin. He wore holey jeans, converse sneakers and his long-sleeved black shirt was decorated with a flock of vampire bats, all baring their fangs menacingly. His eyes darted from me to Grams, then to Jonathan.
"Sorry," he mumbled. "Didn't know you had company." he made to disappear down the hallway branching off from the landing, but Jonathan beckoned him down the stairs. Eying me wearily again, the boy did as he was told.
"Mrs. Jones, Payne, I'd like you to meet my new son,"
"Foster son," the boy corrected.
"-Foster son, Star." Jon smiled widely and ruffled Star's hair, revealing a bright white streak, almost albino looking, hidden underneath Star's black hair. Star ducked his head out of Jon's hold and quickly hid it, tucking it beneath his bangs. He nodded to me once. "Howdy," he said, and I could tell he had the hint of an unidentifiable accent, even though he tried to hide it.
"Hey," I nodded back. "I'm Payne." I held out my hand. Star hesitantly shook it. We stood there for a few minutes, neither of us saying anything until my Grams finally broke the silence.
"Well, Payne, we best be getting home. It was nice seeing you again, Jon, and nice meeting you, Star." she turned to shake Star's hand like I did, but the boy was already darting up the stairs again. A few minutes later, soft jazz notes floated from upstairs. Grams stared.
"Sorry about that," Jon said. "Star just moved in with me a couple of weeks ago, and he's not really a people person."
Grams and I nodded, both of us understanding. Jon opened the door, tipping an imaginary hat to us as we left.
I never interacted with Star, who never came outside, was rarely seen, rarely talked, and seemed to do nothing but play jazz on a saxophone he kept with him at all times. Eventually, I forgot he was even there, and after a year couldn't even remember him.

Three Years Later

I sat in math class, tossing a paper wad at Dennis and laughing when he looked around as though to see who the culprit was. "C'mon Payne," he groaned. "It's not funny to throw things at a blind kid."
"You're blind, so act like it! And next time, don't catch the paper ball!" I exclaimed. Even though Dennis was blind, he had amazing reflexes and could tell when things were coming at him, allowing him to catch almost anything you threw his way.
Mr. Dotson cleared his throat. "Class, we have a new student today." A black clad boy with black hair and blue-streaked bangs joined his side.
"Class, this is Starkan DaVinchi, a...challenged student.. Just like the rest of you, he's at our school for juvenile reasons, but that doesn't mean that like the rest of you, he's not going to get a chance to turn all that around." Mr. Dotson continued.
Star. The name tickled at the back of my mind, sounding only vaguely familiar. I remember something about a star being associated with Jonathan Maple, one of Gram's friends who went missing about six weeks ago, apparently captured by enemy lines in the war and presumed dead. Dismissing the thought nonchalantly, I turned my attention back to throwing paper wads at Dennis behind Mr. Dotson's back as Star took a seat in the very back of the classroom, ignoring everybody and examining the vintage camera that hung around his neck.