ã€ŠMagic and Chaos: The Complete Novel Seriesã€‹


 Book 1 - The Key - (Introduction)

    How do you start a story?

    It¡¯s a weird question, right? But it¡¯s one that¡¯s been troubling me.

    Do you start by showing the world?

    That can¡¯t be right because the story does not begin with the world; the world starts with the story. Your world didn¡¯t begin seven billion years ago; it started when you first opened your eyes.

    In the period, it took you to open your eyes and cry out into the world, an entire universe was created. Cosmos collided and ripped asunder, giving life meaning and death a purpose.

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    That was how your reality started.

    But a story is reality. It doesn¡¯t start when you open your eyes.

    A story is a dream¡ªa dream that takes you out of reality and transports you to a beautiful place you have never been before.

    A place with far everlasting fields and high azure skies. A place where the deepest blue ocean turns to unforgiving black and the dark underground crevices light up with a fiery red.

    This story wasn¡¯t created with reality, this story was born inside of my dreams.

    And Dreams begin when you close your eyes.

    The story begins when you close your eyes.

    Listen as your reality is slipping behind you.

    Feel as my dream takes hold of you and pulls you into the story.

 B1- The Key- Chapter l

    Tick

    Tick

    Tick

    Tic-

    Isaac was sitting in the back of the classroom, waiting for the time to change. The clock on the wall was deafening. Its constant ticking was the only thing Isaac could hear over the chatter of kids around him.

    Isaac just knew that the clock was messing with him. Hanging on to the last minute, drawing out each second as long as possible. He had been staring at the clock for the last five minutes, watching it loudly tick its way up¡ªeach second, another tick.

    Just one more minute, it was just one minute. A minute flew by when you weren¡¯t looking, but when you stared at it, it froze and refused to move.

    ¡° Hey everyone, settle down!¡± Mr. Rayfield, the school''s algebra teacher, tried to get the kids quiet.

    Rapping his fingers against his desk, Isaac tried to ignore the teacher, but his voice was just so loud. Didn¡¯t he know that he was making more noise than they were? Not only that, but he was doing this minutes away from the bell. Who cares if they''re talking? They¡¯re about to leave anyway.

    There was no reason for him to be this strict with them, but as always, the teacher was just trying to exert whatever little power he had over the kids.

    Maybe Isaac should say something; it would be fun to see Mr. Rayfield turn red again. No, Isaac thought, focusing back on the clock. This wasn¡¯t the time to have some fun with the teachers.

    Isaac needed to be ready; if he wasn¡¯t ready, then he could miss lunch. Lunch was the most important part of the day, and the further away your class was, the faster you had to be if you wanted to get your food on time.

    Unfortunately, Isaac drew the short end of the stick for his last year. His last class was just before lunch, and it was all the way on the other side of the school on the second floor; you couldn''t get further than that.

    If that didn¡¯t make it hard enough, the teacher stopped anyone from lining up at the door. This meant that twenty kids would get up and head for the door at the sound of the bell. In their need for food, they would all fight to push their way out the door, where they would all pile up, barricading the door with their bodies.

    But not Isaac; Isaac was prepared.

    His bag slung over his shoulder, his butt halfway off the seat, his knees straining from pressure. Isaac was ready to sprint out the door before anyone else got there. Nobody was going to stop him from being first in line.

    All he needed was that last hand to move.

    12:15.

    RIIIIIIIINNGG

    The bell rang throughout the school, startling some people who were not paying attention while the rest calmly packed their bags.

    ¡°HA!¡± Isaac laughed; he was free. With his bags already in his hands, Isaac didn¡¯t need to wait; he was already ready to go.

    Jumping up, Isaac ran out the door, not even giving his classmates a chance to leave their seats. And before they even realized it, Isaac was out of his seat and racing out the door.

    ¡°Cantor Get Back Here!¡± The teacher tried to call Isaac back, but it was too late; Isaac was already out the door.

    Outside, kids were already filling the hallway, each preparing for their mad lunch rush.

    Every day, it was a race to be first. No one wanted to be stuck in line as the seconds of precious lunchtime ticked away. Standing there, waiting as all of your friends got to sit and talk while you had to wait, hoping that you were lucky enough to taste your food, at least before you were forced to move on to your next period.

    But no matter how fast they were, Isaac was faster.

    Rushing past them, Isacc ran toward the end of the hall. At the end of the hall was a set of stairs leading down to the first floor. It was the only staircase on the second floor and the second hurdle for Isaac. If Isaac let them, the mass of kids would fill up the stairs, doubling his time.

    Slowing down meant giving students on the first floor a chance to be first, but going too fast meant a possible journey to the hospital with no food to show for it. So everyone tried to be careful going down the stairs, as it wasn¡¯t worth the risk.

    But where others might have hesitated, Isaac gunned it. Pumping himself up, Isaac ran faster towards the stairs; everyone around him who had seen this before lept out of the way, and when the first step was under his foot, he jumped.

    It was an eight-foot drop to the first floor, a fall that could break your leg, but that didn''t stop Isaac. When his foot touched the ground, he was off again, racing down the hallway.

    Anything he could do to go faster, he was doing. It didn¡¯t matter if he got injured or not. Isaac wasn¡¯t going to let anyone be first in line.

    Even pushing someone down the stairs wasn¡¯t off the table.

    It wouldn¡¯t be the first time either, Isaac thought, smiling. A year before, some girl was purposely clogging up the stairwell so that she could talk to her friends. Like a damn on a lake, she held up the entire second floor stooping everybody on their way to lunch. A quick flight down the stairs took care of that.

    Funny enough, after that, no one wanted to be on the stairs when Isaac was.

    Isaac laughed, thinking about the sound she made going over the railing. He got in a bit of trouble the next day, but it was still one of the funniest things that Isaac had ever done. He didn¡¯t feel sorry for her either.

    And now, whenever they saw him coming, people knew to stay off the stairs during lunch. Isaac wasn¡¯t afraid to send someone down a flight or two if they got in his way. The race to the cafeteria was a ritual for Isaac; if something tried to get in the way of it happening, then he wouldn¡¯t be happy.

    It was the only thing that made his day worth it.

    Well, that and the food- nothing beats having a good meal when you''re bored.

    By now, the first floor had started getting crowded. As each second passed, more and more people came out of their classes, filling the hallway¡ªa wall of flesh with his goal on the other side.

    Isaac felt like he was getting slower. Last month, he had made it to the cafeteria without trouble, but now he was forced to squeeze past the flood of bodies.

    Of course, he thought, smiling as he ran. The challenge is half the fun.

    Diving into the sea of bodies, Isaac pushed and squeezed his way past. Startled yelps came up behind him, but Isaac didn¡¯t give them a second thought. Faster, faster, he tried to push himself.

    Finally, he was shot out of the mass of students right in front of his prize, the cafeteria.

    Like every other place in this school, the cafeteria was a plain square room. The walls were a boring beige, with a faded yellow border of paint being the only splash of color. Large windows going halfway up the wall filled the right side of the cafeteria, where outside, you could see the school''s football field.

    Four doors led into the kitchen toward the back. Inside, lunch ladies would be waiting, ready to hand out food to hungry kids. Picnic-style tables filled the room, and slow-moving fans hung right above them.

    The lunch ladies had barely opened the kitchen doors when Isaac came running in. Looking around, Isaac saw that no one else was there.

    ¡° Yes!¡± He shouted he was the first one here.

    Nobody looked up at the noise Isaac was making; they were already used to Isaac and had come to see his unique energy as a fact of life.

    But that didn¡¯t matter to Isaac; the only thing that mattered to Isaac was the food. When you came to get lunch, you had four choices. Door one was the Lunch lane. Generally, they carried the lunch specials: spaghetti, hamburgers, or nuggets, whichever happened to be there that day.

    Door three was the pizza line, where you were given day-old pizza by the slice, one per person. Door four was the dessert line, where kids with extra change could get frozen treats before having to brave the rest of the day with sugar low.

    But Door Two was his favorite. Door Two was the sandwich line, with a chicken patty between two buns and a side of fries; what was not to love? They even had spicy patties for the daring.

    Those were the four doors of the lunch room, each one practically the same with one glaring difference. The Lunch lane was free; it was the only lunch line given to the students that, as required by law, was meant to be provided in schools nationwide. Paid for with taxpayer money, and it showed.

    The food in the Lunch line was horrid. It was one of the only things that the school had control over, and they used that control to make themselves richer. They gave children the cheapest, barely edible food possible and pocketed the rest.

    The other food lines came after a heated PTA meeting many years ago, during which parents of children came forward to fight against this tyranny. After many grueling hours and bloody shouting matches, the mothers and fathers realized that the evil dictators of the lunch would never give up their ill-gotten gains.

    So, instead, a compromise was made: two more lunch lines were added, and a third line for dessert was added. These lines would be of better quality, with the only caveat being that they would have to be paid for collectively by the parents.

    So if you wanted a good lunch, you had to choose wisely.

    Most people would choose the pizza line, but those people needed to understand his brilliance.

    Why pick the pizza when you only get one, maybe two slices max? The sandwich line sells spicy chicken patties, which you can get two of.

    Two spicy sandwiches for the price of one¡ªyou won¡¯t get a better deal anywhere else.

    That''s what was so great about middle school. In elementary school, the only lunch options were to pick something off the menu or bring it yourself. Here, you had choices.

    Sadly, the idiots always seemed to choose wrong.

    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

    As he walked through the kitchen doors, Isaac smiled to himself. Then he saw who was behind the counter. Mrs. Mayde was serving the sandwiches today.

    Mrs. Mayde was an older lady with graying black hair. She was kind and gentle, sometimes acting like other kids'' grandma. Her face was set in a permanent grin. In fact, Isaac couldn''t think of a single time when she failed to greet the students with a smile. She was always so happy to see everyone walking through the cafeteria doors.

    There was nothing wrong with Mrs. Mayde; she was always happy, always waiting to serve with a smile. But she was just so hard to deal with.

    Sighing under his breath, Isaac stepped behind the counter. The best thing to do was just grin and bear. The faster he got his food, the faster he could return to enjoying himself.

    ¡° You got here quick, Isaac. I hope you didn¡¯t run over anybody.¡± She said, smiling at Isaac.

    ¡° Not today, Mrs. Mayde.¡± Even though Isaac was dying to start eating, it never hurt to be nice.

    ¡° Well, make sure that you follow the rules, alright? We don¡¯t need you falling down the stairs just because you wanted to be a few seconds early.¡± It was the same every day. She¡¯d say hi, and he¡¯d say hi back. She¡¯d talk about ¡° running someone over,¡± and then he¡¯d say he hasn¡¯t.

    It''s been the same since sixth grade.

    ¡° I¡¯ll be careful, Mrs. Mayde. Can I have two spicy chicken, please?¡± Isaac grinned, trying to move along.

    This was torture.

    ¡°Ok, sweetie, here you go.¡± Handing Isaac his food, Mrs. Mayde waved her hand as she started serving the next kid in line.

    With his food in hand, Isaac hurried to the register, hoping to leave the line before anyone else tried to start a conversation. Small talk had always been his weakness.

    Walking out of the kitchen, Isaac looked for a place to sit. The problem with the cafeteria chairs was that they were all just one long table. If you didn¡¯t have people filling the spaces for you, you ran the risk of sitting with people you didn¡¯t want to be around.

    Fortunately for Isaac, most people didn¡¯t want to be around him. Hell, if he knew why. Some people just couldn¡¯t get past his personality. So, he generally had the pick of the litter when it came to where to sit.

    Scanning the room, Isaac looked for a particular spot to sit. He didn¡¯t care much about the placement. Because he was looking for who was sitting there

    Finding her was never a problem for Isaac. Even if the room was pitch black, he could somehow find his way towards her. To him, she had a glow around her that no one else had. It was the one thing that drew him to her.

    Compared to the dull people around him, Luci shined.

    Isaac could never explain it, but to him, some things just shone with a bright light while others looked like a dull grey. Out of everybody in the school, she was the only one he knew who could shine like that.

    And there she was, tucked away in the corner, quietly eating her lunch alone.

    Luciana, or Luci as everyone called her, was pretty much his only friend in the whole school. He first saw her during the school''s open house for sixth graders. He was there walking around with his parents, bored out of his mind when he saw her, standing there, shining brightly against the monotone background.

    Since then, Isaac has followed her around, sticking to her throughout their middle school years, using her shine to stave off the boredom. Walking towards her, Isaac began chuckling to himself; it was hard getting her to be his friend, he thought, with his usual go-to social interaction being to talk her ear off not working like he thought it would.

    Or, really, was working exactly like he thought it would, just not in any way that would help him.

    At first, she couldn¡¯t stand him. Every second of the day, he tried to stay close to her. In classes, he would pick a seat right beside her, and in the hallways, he never left her side. The only times that he wasn¡¯t around her were when they had separate classes or when she ran to the restroom to escape.

    He tried following her one time, but that didn¡¯t go so well. He had just planned to stand in the corner facing the wall, waiting for her to finish, but apparently, some of the other girls inside the restroom didn¡¯t like that.

    Thinking back on it, their reactions were pretty funny. Then the teachers got involved, which was kind of fun, but then his parents were called in, and that was less fun. Then, he got to meet Luci¡¯s parents, which was fun.

    But when they spent hours nagging him about what was right and wrong and ¡° what was he thinking, didn¡¯t he know better?¡± he just felt like none of it was worth the hassle.

    So now he waits outside.

    Isaac just didn¡¯t know what was wrong. He tried to be friendly. He tried talking to her, giving her his homework, and even bringing food over to her house one time. But nothing worked. She still ignored him. Of course, she ignored everyone, but to him especially, she would turn a cold shoulder, and he didn''t know why. He just wanted to be around her, maybe find out what was so diffenrt about her. So no matter how hard she turned away, he just kept pushing forward.

    It got so bad that at the end of their first year, her parents had wanted to pull her out of school.

    Thankfully, Luci decided that letting Isaac do whatever he wanted was just the lesser of two evils and told them to drop it. After that, they just started to get closer together. It helped that Luci never had a problem with Isaac to begin with. To her, he was an excitable puppy, annoying but not a problem if you ignore it. Corse, she didn''t know that ignoring Isaac only made him more annoying, but live and learn.

    Her parents didn''t like him. They saw Isaac as a distraction, preventing Luci from succeeding when she should be paying attention in school. It was only after Luci got them to step back that things finally started settling down. Isaac learned to be less intense, and Luci learned to tolerate his presence.

    Finding Luci in the back, Isaac went to sit with her. Since she always brought her own lunch, she never had to wait in line and usually picked the tables for them.

    Sitting down next to Luci, Isaac put his tray down. ¡° Good morning, Luci; how¡¯s your day been?¡±

    Ignoring Isaac, Luci continued to eat her lunch, not even lifting her head to speak with him. But that was fine; by now, Luci knew that he wasn¡¯t looking for any answer anyway; it was just his way of saying hello.

    As he situated himself, Isaac pulled a book out of his bag. It was one that he had already finished, but he didn''t mind reading it again. Books were important to Isaac. They were one of the only things that helped him get through the day.

    Looking up from her food, Luci pushed a loc of curly hair out of her face. ¡° Are you still reading that old book? How many times has it been?¡±

    ¡° Why, what''s wrong with it?¡± Isaac asked.

    ¡° Nothing really, but you always seem to be caring around.¡± Frowning, Luci went back to her food. ¡°I was just wondering what was so special about it.¡±

    Isaac smiled. This book, Emotional, was an older book from when his great-grandfather was a kid. It was the first book that Isaac had ever read, and even now, it remains one of his favorite books.

    ¡° Nothing, really.¡± Repeating her words back to her, Isaac thought about what he was going to say. ¡°I guess it just stuck with me, you know.¡±

    Flipping through the pages, Isaac imagined the world between the pages.

    ¡° The books about a kid traveling the world and just plain having fun.¡± As Isaac talked about the book, he started getting excited. ¡° The story isn¡¯t all that great, it''s the same good guy wins, and bad guy loses, but the words, the words just flow together and pull you in.¡±

    Standing up, Isaac moved over closer to Luci. ¡° Look right here, where the author describes the dark temple as the hero steps in. Look how the words leave enough for your imagination to push you to turn the next page.¡±

    ¡° ¡®And as he stepped into the dark, John felt as if he was leaving something behind. Here, he knew that there would be no turning back.¡¯ Can¡¯t you feel that, how you feel for the character?¡±

    Luci just rolls her eyes at him. ¡° Yeah, it''s great. Sorry for asking.¡±

    Isaac chuckled. ¡° It¡¯s Ok. I know it''s not for everyone.¡±

    Going back to his book, Isaac ate his food in silence. It was nice; this type of calm never

    bothered Isaac. It wasn¡¯t perfect. He needed the book to distract him a little bit, but having a nice meal with his friend was nice.

    It didn¡¯t last long, though.

    A few guys came over to sit at their table, which was not that strange, as the lunch room wasn¡¯t large enough for everyone to have their own table. The only thing you could do was ignore the strangers and talk to your friends.

    It was when more of them started to show up that they started to realize that there was going to be a problem.

    ¡° Hey, can you guys move our friends? They''re trying to sit down,¡± One of the guys asked.

    Luci looked up from her food. Already, more of them had showed up and were awkwardly standing around.

    ¡° No,¡± Luci sneered at them. We¡¯re already sitting here; you came to our table. So you guys can go and find somewhere else to sit.¡±

    Man, it was funny. You wouldn''t know it by how little she talked to people, but Luci could be a difficult person to talk to. She was the living embodiment of a devil''s advocate, going against what anybody said and generally just being stubborn. And she did it all out of sheer spite.

    ¡° Hey, there¡¯s only two of you guys move. We have more guys coming, and we need the space.¡± Someone else came from behind, supporting his friends.

    Studying the crowd that suddenly surrounded their table, Isaac noticed that a few of them were starting to get heated. They stood around the table, all of them glaring at the two people stopping them from enjoying their lunch.

    They were tired from standing in the long lunch line, waiting for their turn to get food. And now they just wanted to sit down and enjoy their lunch.

    Looking around the room there were plenty of places to sit, but every single one of them had the majority of the tables filled in. Apparently, by the time these guys had gotten their lunch, the rest of the cafeteria had filled up, leaving no place for their group of friends to all sit together.

    So, if these guys wanted to sit with their friends, they needed Isaac and Luci¡¯s table.

    Too bad both Isaac and Luci loved being difficult. It just warmed them right up.

    Laughing to himself, In fact, Isaac began thinking, this is perfect. Today was getting to be a little too stale for his taste.

    Isaac closed his book. ¡° Come on, Luci. Don''t you feel bad for these guys? Their strays, they need a home, and we can provide it for them.¡±

    Sandtind up, Isaac grabbed a couple of guys by the shoulders, swung them around, and presented them to the slowing-forming audience of the cafeteria. Pulling them closer towards him, Isaac began shouting as if he was presenting them at a charity auction.

    ¡° These poor, homeless strays need a home, and we can give it to them!¡± Swinging the guys in his arms around, Isaac tried his best not to laugh. ¡° And for just five dollars, you too can help unwanted strays like these and give them the home they dese-oof, hehehe.¡±

    One of the guys had elbowed Isaac in the side, forcing him to let both of them go. But he didn¡¯t care; he just laughed it off. If you were going to play the clown, then you had to be prepared to take a few hits.

    ¡° What the Hell!¡± One of the guys screamed. ¡° You don''t touch another man like that.¡± You know, it might just be Isaac''s imagination, but he thinks they might be a little upset with him.

    Also, man?

    Someone was thinking highly of himself. There might also be a little bit of insecurity there. He was going to poke at it; that would be fun.

    But before he could go any further, Luci interrupted him. ¡°You sure you want to do this, Isaac? It''s our last week.¡±

    Isaac could see the worry in Luci¡¯s eyes. Even if he wasn¡¯t a friend in her eyes Isaac was still the only person that she was close to. She knew what he liked, and what he liked was making problems.

    That¡¯s why he was constantly getting into trouble. He just couldn¡¯t keep still. Every time he got too bored, he would do something that ultimately led him to sit in the principal''s office. This past month was the longest he had gone without being sent to the principal''s office.

    He had one more month of school left, and he would be free to do whatever he wanted. He had told his parents that he would try to be on his best behavior.

    But this was just too fun to pass up.

    ¡°What''s your problem, Isaac.¡± Someone came up and shoved Isaac backward.

    Looking at him, Isaac stared at him in confusion. ¡° Sorry, what''s your name.¡±

    ¡° Are you serious? I¡¯ve known you since 3rd grade!¡± he yelled. ¡° It¡¯s Tanner.¡±

    ¡° If you¡¯ve known me this long, then you should know how this works by now. I don''t know people; people know me. I''m supposed to remember everyone I pass in the hall? Come on man, be better.¡±

    Throwing his hands up into the air, Isaac turned around, facing Luci. She knew that he was just messing with them, trying to get them angry. It''s what he always did.

    ¡° You know what, Isaac,¡± Tanner muttered as Isaac smiled at Luci. Sighing, Luci just put her head down, waiting for the teacher to come and clean up the mess about to happen.

    Isaac did this to pass the time. He got so bored that he decided that the best way to have fun was to mess with people. Most people are always trying to be on ¡°their best behavior¡± and to ¡°always be kind.¡± But that''s not how they feel.

    People get angry and mad, and want to hit people sometimes. There''s nothing wrong with that. It''s good to get those things off your chest. Isaac¡¯s just helping them express what they''re really feeling.

    Isaac did not even care what Tanner was doing. He kept on smiling even as Tanner''s fist slammed into the back of his head.

 B1-The Key-Chapter 2 ( Part 1 )

    When Isaac felt Tanner¡¯s fist crash into his head, the only thing that he could think of was finally. Isaac didn''t stop smiling even as his vision swam with blurry faces.

    But this, this fight was going to brighten up his whole week.

    He did feel sorry for Luci, though.

    She had been trying so hard this last month, distracting him with books and playing interference with the more short-tempered classmates, but all of it was going to waste. They had been so close to finishing the school year on a quiet note.

    But Isaac Cantor doesn¡¯t end things quietly; if he goes out, it¡¯ll be with a bang.

    Letting his body fall with the force of the punch, Isaac fell into a sort of T-pose, his back perpendicular to the ground and his leg rising between Tanner¡¯s legs.

    Off to the side, Luci sat there with her forgotten food. Already knowing the outcome, the only thing that she could do was sigh and hold her head, waiting for all of this to finish so that she could go home.

    Not expecting a counterattack from Isaac, Tanner could not defend his most vulnerable area. Feeling an exploding pain between his legs, Tanner fell to the floor, unable to even let out a gasp.

    The crowd was shocked; they expected to see Isaac on the floor, not Tanners. Everyone was frozen in shock.

    His friends dropped their trays of food as they came over to help Tanner stand back up. The cafeteria was silent as more people started noticing what was happening. People were already pulling out their phones, and some looked to be trying to get a teacher.

    Not wanting the fun to end too quickly, Isaac immediately went on the attack. There was no time for any witty banter, so wasting no time at all, Isaac ran up to the first guy in front of him and punched him right in the face.

    ¡° Come on, let''s keep going.¡± Standing over the downed guy, Isaac taunted the rest.

    What he said must have woken them up because they quickly stopped what they were doing and came straight for Isaac.

    People were screaming in the background as Isaac tackled the leading guy, carrying him as he ran. Isaac, still holding his unwilling passenger, ran straight through the circle of people surrounding him, sending them all out of the way before slamming his passenger into a table at the end of the cafeteria.

    Isaac barely turned around before a punch to his face threw him to the side. Not one to let things go, Isaac grabbed the extended arm and pulled it straight down, forcing the attacker to the ground before Isaac kneed him in the face.

    ¡°Isaac, what are you doing?¡± someone screamed at Isaac. Everyone was in a state of shock, and no one knew what to do.

    Fights were common in this school, Isaac causing the majority of them these past few years. But those fights were small things that people could watch and enjoy. This was a brawl, a brawl where anyone could get pulled in.

    But none of that mattered to Isaac. Their safety was the last thing on his mind. He just wanted to keep fighting.

    The whole cafeteria was in chaos now. Other people who had nothing to do with Tanner started joining in. As the fight went on, people went down, and when they went down, new ones came in. It was chaos as people who weren¡¯t even part of the original group had joined.

    Some helped Isaac, while others fought against him. A small minority started having their own fights off to the side.

    By this point, no one was sitting at their table anymore, and the ones not fighting hugged the wall, trying to stay as far away from the fight as possible. Their lunches lay forgotten under overturned tables,

    But as the fight went on, people started to worry that things were getting out of hand. If this continued, someone would get seriously hurt.

    ¡° Hey, that¡¯s enough!¡± They cried. ¡° Stop!¡±

    But Isaac wasn¡¯t listening to them; he was having too much fun.

    ¡°HAHAHAA!¡± Laughing, Isaac launched himself at the next guy.

    The guy in front of him was a beefy kind of guy, obviously someone who was on the football team. So far, Isaac has been keeping up momentum, taking them out faster than they could react. But this guy was ready for him.

    Dodging Isaac''s first punch, beefy guy reached around and grabbed Isaac tightly around his arms. Isaac was too fast for them to hit, so they had to hold him down, or they would never bring Isaad down.

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    Before Isaac could try and wiggle his way out the rest of the beefy guy¡¯s friends came up behind him and started beating him with whatever they could find. Fists, trays, a leg of a chair, all of it rained down on Isaac.

    They hit Isaac on his shoulder, his ribs, and his back. Needing to get some space, Isaac head-butted the beefy guy right in the nose.

    ¡°ARGH!¡± He screamed in pain as he brought his hands up to cradle his bloody nose.

    Dropping to the floor, Isaac hurried away from the group of guys around him, sliding underneath a table right beside them. Isaac needed to take a second to catch his breath. Laughing and fighting at the same time makes it hard to breathe.

    ¡°How many left, five?¡±Laying on the floor, dead tired, Isaac counted who was still standing. This fight had been going on for at least a few minutes, and even though he had knocked out so many people, five were still standing.

    Isaac couldn¡¯t stop smiling.

    This was fun. No useless classes or dull day-to-day activities; this was living. Blood-pumping adrenaline flooded his ears, and a pounding in his heart. He knew he would get in trouble for this, but that didn''t matter right now.

    Right now, five guys are picking up the table to get to him, and if he lets them, they will beat him, and it will hurt.

    The pain he was okay with. You don¡¯t start a fight and then get mad over getting socked in the face. No, he was glad they got some punches; it made the game fair.

    Losing, though, losing isn¡¯t fun. Isaac didn¡¯t start this game with the idea of losing.

    If he was going to play, he was going to win.

    As soon as they lifted the table, Isaac punched the closest ankle he could reach, sending whoever it was down in pain. As the first guy fell to his knees, Isaac was already moving on to the next one.

    They tried to kick him while he was still down, but he was too fast for them.

    Blocking and dodging their legs, Isaac hooked his legs between one of their legs, tripping them and sending them into their friend.

    Still on the ground, Isaac grabbed the leg of someone kicking him and pulled, making him fall on his back. Rolling out of the way, Isaac pushed himself up before kicking the guy already on the ground. Continuing his motion, Isaac then turned and punched down on the head of the guy with the hurt ankle, knocking him out.

    Standing up, Isaac looked around. They were nearing the end of the fight, and almost everyone had left the cafeteria. The only ones left were the ones still standing and the ones unconscious on the floor.

    Not counting Isaac, two guys were still standing. Isaac couldn¡¯t remember their names, but he knew they were both part of Tanner¡¯s group. Both were pretty big guys, taller than Isaac and uglier too.

    They looked at one another. Isaac was all alone, but neither of them could take him by themselves. So, they decided to attack Isaac simultaneously. One on the left and one on the right ran towards Isaac, hoping to hurt him as much as they could before the teachers showed up.

    As Isaac stood there, waiting for them to get closer, he couldn¡¯t help but notice the look in their eyes. They hated him.

    What for? He didn¡¯t know.

    It wasn¡¯t like he was a good little boy before. After three years in this boring hellhole, he had to find some ways to entertain himself. The students were just his unfortunate victims.

    So no, he didn¡¯t know why they hated him so much. But that was okay. He didn¡¯t need to know. He was having fun.

    The guy on the right was faster than his friend; he reached Isaac first. When he got close enough, he threw a punch right at Isaac¡¯s head. Dodging to the side, Isaac returned the favor with a gut shot, sending him to the ground. The second guy, ignoring his friend on the ground, tackled Isaac, throwing him onto the table behind them.

    His back screamed in pain¡ªthe hardwood and whatever else on the table made for a poor cushion. I think there is a fork in my back, Isaac thought.

    Isaac fought to keep his mind steady, and the pain helped. But his attacker wasn¡¯t going to let up. As he lay on the table, fist after fist hammered down onto him. Guarding as best he could, Isaac waited out the rain of blows before he grabbed his arms and pulled him down onto Isaac.

    Before the guy could get up, Isaac took his head under his arm and put him in a chokehold. With his head under his armpit, Isaac felt as he struggled to get out of the hold.

    Hooking his hands together, Isaac kept a firm grasp around the guy''s head, holding him until he stopped squirming.

    After making sure that he was still alive, Isaac pushed the body off of him and slowly got up from the table.

    ¡° Urgh.¡± With a grown, Isaac twisted his back this way and that, stretching out all the kinks, hoping to lessen the pain.

    Standing up, Isaac saw the last guy finally getting up from the ground. It had taken him a while, but he finally caught his breath and was ready to face Isaac.

    Smirking at him, Isaac held his arms in a guard in front of his face, waiting for the last guy to copy him. When he did, Isaac began to walk around him. Following his move, they started to circle each other slowly.

    Keeping a solid distance away from each other, they circle each other, waiting for the other to make the first move.

    Klang!

    A loud ringing sounded off like a gong as a metal bottle slammed into the guy''s temple, sending him back to the ground, out cold.

    Out of nowhere, Isaac swiftly turned around, grabbed a fallen metal bottle from the table to his side, and swung, knocking his opponent unconscious.

    Isaac stood in the empty cafeteria, bodies sprawled all around him. Catching his breath, he waited for the inevitable. He had his fun, and now came the hard part.

    Behind him, the cafeteria doors swung open, crashing into the walls. In the doorway stood a horde of adults, all looking around in disbelief and horror at the carnage in front of them.

    Finally, the teachers arrived.

    ¡°ISAAC!¡±

 B1-The Key-Chapter 2 ( Part 2)

    * * *

    If you¡¯re thinking about getting into a fight, make sure the other guy punches first.

    Don¡¯t think about winning or losing; that''s not what matters. What matters is that you''re not seen as the aggressor when the cops show up.

    Go outside and look around; if you''re lucky, you''re going to see a pair of guys screaming and yelling and daring the other to throw their fist punch.

    Why?

    It¡¯s so that, win or lose, they can say it was self-defense.

    Defending yourself is fine because attacking someone is wrong. People only care about the person who threw the first punch. It doesn''t matter who wins or loses; the person who takes all the blame is the one who attacked first

    So, if you¡¯re considering getting into a fight, make sure someone else takes the first shot.

    Isaac sat in the school¡¯s office, waiting to talk to the principal. Parents were being called and would show up later, but the principal wanted to speak to the main instigators separately before they had a chance to change their stories.

    So far, he was the only one left who hadn¡¯t been called into the office. Mrs. Dion wanted to talk to everyone else before talking to him, leaving him alone in the office with nobody to talk to except the two school security guards on either side of him.

    They kept a wide berth around him, and no one else dared to get near him. They were all afraid that he was going to attack them. So they just quietly worked as their eyes tracked his every move.

    Not surprising. Everyone knew who he was; there wasn¡¯t a doubt in their mind that he started everything.

    Giving Isaac a chance to talk was just a courtesy to his great-grandpa.

    Leaning back into his chair, Isaac felt everyone¡¯s eyes on him. Their eyes felt like little weights pressing against his skin. All of them were judging, thinking that he shouldn¡¯t be here, that he should be rotting in jail, and all that other fun stuff that they said behind his back.

    Which was fine, he guessed. It''s not like he didn¡¯t deserve it.

    No one walked out of that fight untouched. Bruises, concussions, somebody even got their hand broken.

    Everyone was being carted to the hospital. The school¡¯s nurse couldn¡¯t take on this many injured children, and multiple ambulances would be needed to transport everyone.

    What was getting into trouble compared to that? Isaac knew that he caused problems for everybody. Did that mean that he was going to stop? No, that just meant that while he would act however he wanted, he would also accept responsibility when everything was over.

    Doing whatever you wanted came with a price. If you weren¡¯t prepared or willing to pay that price, you shouldn¡¯t have done what you did.

    But none of that was as distracting as the shouting coming from the office behind him. The two vice principals, Mr. Goui and Mr. Longuiz, went in a few minutes ago, and neither has left.

    Most schools in Texas have one principal and one vice principal, but due to its size, the Rain Wilde Middle School had two vice principals.

    He couldn¡¯t hear what they were discussing, but Isaac knew it had to be about him. Whenever those two were seen arguing, it was usually about him.

    Mr. Goui never liked Isaac. Some people never know if someone truly doesn¡¯t like them, but Isaac knew. He knew because Mr. Goui told Isaac himself. He told him he was a ¡° Rude, selfish disruption to the other students and that he didn''t like him, not one bit.¡±

    Isaac just saw him as a grumpy old guy who wanted his way, and no one else did.

    But even if Mr.Goui wouldn¡¯t be nice to Isaac, Isaac would at least try to be nice to him. He tried talking to him in the hallways, asking how his day was going, giving passing hellos, and even giving him hugs¡ªall of it Isaac did because he was a nice person], also because he thought it was funny.

    Mr. Goui saw it as disrespectful.

    Mr. Longuiz, on the other hand, was an old friend of the family. He always tried to stay on Isaac¡¯s side, even when he was in the wrong. But this time, it didn¡¯t sound like he would have much luck. This time, Isaac went too far.

    Over twenty kids were going to be sent to the hospital because of Isaac. Some were never even part of the fight; they were just unlucky enough to be there when it happened. There was no way for Mr. Longuiz to spin this for Isaac.

    Bang!

    Across from Isaac, Tanner exited the principal''s office, slamming open the door as he left, the door crashing into the wall with a bang. His feet were heavily stomped out of the room. His face was all red and scrunched up in anger while his eyes darted all over the office.

    Through the sea of busybodies, Tanner searched for Isaac. As Isaac watched him fail to find him, he had an idea: What if he helped him?

    ¡®This is going to be funny,¡¯ Isaac thought to himself.

    Putting on the largest smile that he could, Isaac waved at Tanner. Acting like he was one of his bestest of friends. Isaac waved him over, calling him over to his side to sit with him.

    Man, if Isaac thought Tanner was mad before, it was like a bomb went off in his brain when he saw Isaac. His eyes were wide with fury, and Tanner glared at Isaac. His nostrils flared out as he breathed out. He was like a bull seeing red; he was so mad.

    His hands were clenching and unclenching by his sides, almost like he was imagining them around Isaac¡¯s neck.

    He looked like he was ready to go over there and restart their whole fight right in front of everyone in the office.

    But, before he could even take a single set, the offices on either side of Isaac stepped in front of him, blocking Tanner''s view of Isaac. Isaac could see as Tanner glared down at the offices, daring them to move out of the way, but the officers were like rocks. They stood there and didn¡¯t move an inch.

    ¡° Mr. Maifield!¡± Mrs. Dion called from inside her office. ¡° Watch how you act, or I might change my mind.¡±

    Tanner acted as if he didn''t hear her. Instead, he glared at Isaac, his eyes like daggers stapping into him. Isaac could see him torn between walking away or taking a swing.

    ¡° Well?!¡± She called out again, warning Tanner.

    Tanner snarled under his breath; there wasn¡¯t anything he could do. He had to walk away.

    ¡° Yes, Mrs. Dion, " he growled out. With one last glare aimed at Isaac, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked away.

    Apparently, punching Isaac wasn¡¯t worth getting in trouble with Mrs. Dion.

    Watching him trod along, Isaac couldn''t help but laugh as he watched Tanner through the officers'' arms. Waving Tanner goodbye, Isaac¡¯s eyes followed him until he left the office.

    ¡° Isaac,¡± Mrs. Dion called from her office, summoning Isaac in.

    Signing, Isaac slapped his hands on his knees and pushed himself up. It was time to get this over with, he guessed. Shrugging to the officers beside him, Isaac waved them goodbye before walking into the office.

    A cool breeze wrapped around his body as soon as he entered the office. Five fans were placed around the room, all working at maximum strength to keep the temperature almost freezing.

    Before moving to Texas, Mrs. Dion originally lived in Washington, where she was more used to cooler weather. No one knew why she moved so far south, but she obviously hadn¡¯t adjusted to Texas¡¯s almost desert heat.

    It was almost impossible to find her outside the office in the spring. She mainly stayed inside, away from the heat.

    Mrs. Dion was a small woman with bright red hair that always stood out whenever she was outside, the light lighting up her head like a bonfire. She was nice enough for a principal, always patient and willing to listen to students constantly bothering her. But she was alson¡¯t afraid to lay into some of the students.

    Once, two guys were fighting in the hall, right in the center of the hall they were fighting. No one was getting in between them; they were afraid of being dragged in. But Mrs. Dion marched right up to them, grabbed them by the back of their shirts, dragged them straight outside, and closed the door behind them.

    She was someone that all the students respected, even Isaac. But that didn¡¯t mean that he liked her. Isaac hated being in her office, and every time he came here, there was another reason to hate.

    When Isaac walked in, Mrs. Dion was sitting at her desk, looking at the papers on her desk. Standing in front of her, Isaac decided to wait for her to notice him before doing anything.

    Just because he didn¡¯t like her meant he couldn¡¯t be polite.

    When she saw him standing in front of her, she motioned for him to sit down, still working while he did. Only after he had sat down did she put aside her papers and fully look at Isaac.

    Leaning back in her plush leather chair, Mrs. Dion silently stared at Isaac as she folded her hands over her stomach.

    Her eyes were bearing down on Isaac as she stared at him with silent judgment. The clock ticked loudly behind him as they waited in silence, waiting for the other to break the tension first.

    Isaac already knew what she was doing. She did this every time he came in here. Hell, Isaac figured that she did this to every kid who sat down in front of her.

    She¡¯d stare solemnly at them, wait for them to speak, and when they nervously broke the silence with their desperate need to speak, she would jump on them with her patronizing words.

    She¡¯d start with the usual, ¡° Mr. Cantor, do you know why you¡¯re in here?¡± Then she¡¯d say, ¡°I¡¯m so disappointed,¡± and ¡° I know you can do better.¡±

    And then, when she¡¯s said all she can say and practically talked Isaac¡¯s ear off, she¡¯ll finally let Isaac go with a final word of calling his parents and the hours of his detention.

    But none of that would have mattered because by the time he left, her words would have already slipped out of his head, and he would continue on his day as if nothing had ever happened, only with a few hours of his life missing as a reminder.

    And normally, that would be fine: a few hours of incessant talking, a couple of days of boredom in detention, plus his parents. That''s fine; it''s a great trade-off for having fun.

    But this would be the last time he would ever step foot in this office. He didn¡¯t want to leave here without getting one last good look at the place, you know, before Mrs. Dion messed it up even more.

    He didn¡¯t want to spend his last day in this office by having a starring contest with the lady who ruined it in the first place. So instead, he was ignoring her while he looked around the room.

    The Rain Wilde Middle School was a legacy school for Isaac¡¯s family. His family had been coming to this school since it was first built. Isaac had seen pictures of his relatives going to this school, some of them in this very office.

    Some were there for good reasons, while most of them - eh, not so much. Of course, that was most of the Cantor family, now that he thought about it. But that wasn¡¯t the point. The point was that Isaac knew what the inside of this office was meant to look like.

    Letting his eyes wander around, Isaac noted all the decorations and nicknacks Mrs. Dion had cluttered the room with.

    ¡®Man,¡¯ Isaac thought. ¡®almost ten years working here, and she¡¯s filled this room with junk.¡¯

    That sounded mean. People were allowed to decorate their space however they wanted, but she ruined the room with all her junk.

    None of her stuff fit in with the old furniture, so she got rid of it. She repainted the walls from forest green to boring cloth grey, and she even removed the old wooden chandelier and replaced it with one of her stupid fans.

    Isaac¡¯s great-grandfather was twelve years old when this school was built. In fact, the Cantor family were the ones to build this school. Cantor hands put up the walls, raised the ceilings, and built this office.

    The wooden bookshelves embedded into the wall, the stained wood floor, the trim work along the walls, and the wooden barrel wheel chandelier with lanterns hanging down were all done by Cantor''s hands.

    This office had never changed, even after seventy years of use. The previous principals loved the room, so they kept everything the same.

    Then Mrs. Dion shows up and decides that she was just going to mess everything up.

    Curtains over the beautiful arched windows, trimmed out with stained wood. An ugly rug that covered the stained hardwood floor. Full bookshelves filled with large antique books were emptied and then barely filled back in¡ªstupid glass figurines cluttering up the open space and five stupid fans that froze the nice summer heat.

    She even removed all of the previous principals'' photographs¡ªover a hundred pictures of the school from the past to the present¡ªto make room for her personal photos.

    Some of Isaac¡¯s family were in those old photos.

    The first time Isaac came to Ran Widle, he was so excited to see this office¡ªthe office that his great-grandfather helped build. Isaac even purposefully made some kid cry so he would be sent to the principal''s office to see its beauty firsthand.

    What did he do to the kid? Hell, if he knew, he just needed an excuse to get to the office.

    He was so happy walking into the principal''s office. Finally, he was going to see it. After years of only seeing the office through pictures, he would finally step into it for real.

    Then he walked in.

    The rest of that day was a blur for him. He didn¡¯t even remember what was said in that office. Throughout that entire experience, a single question kept popping into his head: Where was he?

    This wasn¡¯t the room he had seen in the pictures; everything was different. Surely, he must be in the wrong room. When he finally accepted that Mrs. Dion had changed everything, Isaac knew that he was never going to like Mrs. Dion.

    His family''s history were on those walls, and she took it down.

    ¡°Mr. Cantor, please pay attention.¡± Mrs. Dion asked, exasperated.

    Isaac rolled his eyes. Reluctantly, he sat up, turning around to face Mrs. Dion.

    Looking at Mrs. Dion, Isaac waited for her to say something as she studied his face, looking for any sign that he wasn¡¯t paying attention. It was only after she knew that he was listening that she continued.

    ¡° I am disappointed, Isaac. Three more days, and you would have been gone for summer, but here you are again in the same place you have been in for the last three years, and this time you have really outdone yourself. ¡± She said, leaning forward.

    Isaac tried to act as confused as he could. ¡°Mrs. Dion, I didn¡¯t do anything. Tanner was-.¡±

    ¡°I know, Mr. Cantor, I know. Just like how I know that you antagonized Mr. Maifield to the point that he would fight you.¡±

    ¡° I have no idea what you''re talking about .¡± Isaac tried his best to fight against the growing smirk on his face. But from the look on Mrs. Dions'' face, he obviously wasn¡¯t going to win that particular fight.

    That¡¯s fine; it''s not like he was trying to hide it that hard anyway. He didn¡¯t need her to think he was innocent; in fact, it would have been more funny if she had known. At any other time and for any other person, Isaac would gladly have taken responsibility for what happened.

    But today, Isaac was feeling particularly bored, and Tanner was being particularly annoying, so now he gets to take all the blame.

    ¡° I do not want to play any of your games today, Isaac! " Mrs. Dion exclaimed. ¡° We have the end of the year to finish wrapping up, and I''m at my wits'' end with you!¡±

    Mrs. Dion took off her glasses and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She looked tired as she asked Isaac, ¡° What? What made you decide that starting a brawl in the middle of the cafeteria was a good idea?¡±

    ¡° Mrs. Dion-.¡± Isaac tried to explain again, but she interrupted him.

    ¡° Stop, Isaac, no more games. Why?¡±

    Mrs. Dion was begging Isaac now. She needed to know why. Why would Isaac do this so close to graduation? He was leaving in two days and never coming back. Why did he do this to her when the end was so near?

    Looking at Mrs. Dion, Isaac saw how much this question bothered her. She just couldn¡¯t understand why Isaac did the things that he did. And Isaac could have lied to her. He could have told her anything right now, and she might have taken it.

    He could have told her that Tanner and his friends were rude to him and Luci or that Isaac never started the fight¡ª'' it was Tanner and his friends.¡¯

    Isaac could have explained to Mrs. Dion that Tanner was a bully who belittled and hurt anybody he didn¡¯t like. That, in sixth grade, it was Isaac and Luci who were his prime targets. How he bullied and attacked them until they cried.

    But it would be a lie.

    Isaac and Luci were never hurt by anything those kids said about them. They never cared what anybody said about them. And while Tanner was a bully, he never once bothered them. Tanner preferred softer targets, not ones that can fight back, like Isaac and Luci.

    In fact, Tanner meant so little to them that before today, Isaac barely knew Tanner¡¯s name.

    So, after three years of attending this school, attending classes, and causing problems. After having all the fun that he could possibly have, why lie now?

    Isaac told the truth.

    ¡° Because it was fun,¡±

    Mrs. Dion frowned; that wasn¡¯t the answer she was looking for. But it was the truth. Everything Isaac did, from following Luci to disrupting classes and even getting into fights. Was for fun.

    After Isaac¡¯s answer, the room fell into heavy silence. Neither one of them said anything. Isaac was perfectly comfortable in the quiet; it certainly beat talking to Mrs. Dion.

    Mrs. Dion stared at Isaac, waiting for him to add anything else. After waiting over a minute, it became clear that Isaac had nothing more to add.

    Sighing out loud, Mrs. Dion said.

    ¡° That is very sad to hear, Mr. Cantor.¡±

    Putting her glasses back on, Mrs. Dion got up from behind her desk and went over to her filing cabinets. Reaching in and pulling out a file, she started to ask Isaac a question.

    ¡° Mr.Cantor, do you know what your teachers think about you?¡±

    Isaac was confused. What did they have to do with this?

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡° I don¡¯t think they like me very much, ma¡¯am.¡±

    Isaac knew that he wasn¡¯t the best student. Sure, he did the work and turned in his homework on time, but he was constantly bored. When he was bored, he found ways to make things fun. Cracking jokes and being silly just livened up his day.

    It made the constant back and forth between classes seem less cold and more joyful. At least to him, it did.

    ¡° No, in fact, they actually think that you are a very bright child, Mr. Cantor. They see how you speed through your work and how well you understand what is being taught.¡± Sitting back down, Mrs. Dion placed a folder on her desk.

    From where he was sitting, Isaac was barely able to make out his name scrawled across the top of the folder.

    ¡°Your entire school file is in this folder, Mr. Cantor.¡± She said, flipping through the first few pages. Then, she began to read out loud what was written there.

    ¡° Isaac Canto is one of the brightest kids in his year. If he can bring himself to focus, he can go so much further. That was from your algebra teacher, Mrs. Greene. Mr. Trent says Isaac is a joy to have around. He always makes the class laugh and have a good time. Unfortunately, this is the time for many students to put in the work. Many students can not afford to have Isaac as a distraction. If Isaac is not moved, many of his fellow classmates will surely fail this year.¡±

    Mrs. Dion closed the folder, placing it in front of Isaac before leaning back into her chair. ¡°There are many more like that, Mr. Cantor, many teachers who think you can be so much more than who you act to be.¡±

    Isaac didn¡¯t know what to say. This was the first time that he had actually heard what the school''s teachers thought of him.

    He tried to act indifferently, but Isaac couldn''t help but feel a warm sensation in his chest. It was hard not to feel good when people complimented you, especially when no one seemed to like you for being you.

    Isaac knew no one liked him; he¡¯d known this since he first met other people. He could see it in their eyes as their smile slowly fell with each word he said.

    He wasn¡¯t deaf to their groaning, nor was he blind to their frowns. People hated hearing him talk and hated being around him.

    When he was younger, he never understood why kids didn¡¯t want to be around him or why the teachers would angrily tell him to be quiet. He was just having fun, wasn¡¯t everyone else? If he finds something funny, surely everyone else will also, right?

    It took Isaac a long time to learn how different he was from everyone else. Not everyone wanted to laugh all day, and sometimes, the jokes stopped being funny. Sometimes, it''s time to be serious and work.

    But Isaac just wanted everybody to laugh with him, to smile, and to have a good time. Most of all, he wanted to have a good time. Isaac doesn¡¯t want to be serious; he wants to laugh and play all day.

    Why should their happiness be more important than his? What right did they have to tell him to stop? If he¡¯s not doing anything illegal, then they can just ignore him.

    What''s the point of living if you''re not laughing? Why is it so wrong for Isaac to be happy?

    That¡¯s why, even though he liked hearing people say good things about him, he wasn¡¯t going to stop. If being liked by everyone means stopping being happy, then Isaac would rather everyone leave him alone.

    But they were interrupted just when he was about to say that to her.

    Shouting was heard from outside, broke the atmosphere in the office. Isaac and Mrs. Dion looked at each other in confusion. Neither of them knew what was happening outside.

    ¡°-ere is he!!¡± They heard as the voices got closer.

    ¡° Ma¡¯am, he is in a meeting with the principal right now. Please wait while they finish up.¡±

    Isaac flinched as he realized the voice that was storming its way to them.

    It was his mom.

    Very few things scared Isaac: the dark, bugs, and his mom. Soffia Cantor was usually a very nice lady. She was someone Isaac was comfortable joking with and the one he told everything to.

    But when she got mad, things got scary. Isaac was surprised that there was actually anybody brave enough to get in her way. Due to Isaac''s long history of being called to the office, the Rain Wilde Middle School has become very familiar with his family.

    And the first thing that they learned was not to get in his mom¡¯s way. When Soffia Cantor is on a warpath, people know to get out of the way.

    Once, she turned one of his teachers into a crying mess just by glaring at him.

    ¡° Move out of my face! Come on, Patrick, forget them; he¡¯s over here!!¡± Soffia screamed, her voice getting louder as she closed in.

    Isaac was sweating in his chair. His mom did not sound happy right now, and just hearing her scream, Isaac knew that things were bad. His mom never screams.

    When Soffia gets mad, she stops talking and stares at you. Her eyes turn into frozen pools of liquid rage that stops your heart when you look at them. When she speaks, she talks slowly, so slow that you can hear every word. And she gets quiet, to the point that you strain your ears just to hear her.

    Isaac had never once heard her scream like that in public. For a second, he didn''t even believe that it was his mom coming to the door. Obviously, it was someone else. His mother would never raise her voice, especially to a stranger.

    And then she walked in.

    Bang!

    After seeing the door slam open, Isaac no longer had any doubts¡ªthat was his mom. Because what other four-foot-eleven would just bust into a school principal''s office with no permission and stand there in her casual T-shirt, jeans, and nice heels like nothing happened?

    Isaac could see that Mrs. Dion was stunned. He didn¡¯t blame her; he would be, too, if he didn''t live with her.

    His mom was not somebody that you can prepare for.

    People are always surprised, meeting his mom for the first time. They know of her, from the stories people tell about her, about how scary and mean she is. They all fear her before ever having met her.

    You expect a monster to come smashing through your doors from the stories you hear about her.

    Nobody expects a tiny Latina lady to come walking through their doors.

    But when she stormed into that office, she looked ten feet tall. It was like she was standing over everyone''s heads, looking down at them like they were the small ones.

    Coming into the office, Soffia Cantor was like a goddess of war. She was beautiful, but at the same time, her face was like a general going to war¡ªno emotion but eyes blazing with an intense fire. Nobody said a word, afraid that her eyes would land on them.

    Ignoring everyone else, she continued walking into the office, her heels echoing through the silence.

    Behind her was his dad, Patrick Cantor. He was at the door apologizing to everyone as he nervously ran his hands through his short hair. Fixing his glasses on his face, he awkwardly followed Soffia into the office.

    Isaac was surprised to see his dad here. His dad didn''t like anything to do with confrontation. He was a timid guy, so he usually left these kinds of visits to Mom.

    But before he could even begin to question why his dad was here, his mom was already in his face, screaming at him in Spanish.

    ¡° Isaac, una pelea, ?para eso nos has hecho venir aqu¨ª?¡± She shouted.

    ¡°Tu padre tuvo que salir del trabajo, tuve que llamar a tu abuela para ver la cena - s¨®lo por una pelea, ?y no s¨®lo eso sino una peque?a pelea! Si nos van a llamar aqu¨ª porque empezaste una pelea, ?ser¨¢ mejor que sea porque fue una gran pelea, no esta mierda de jard¨ªn de infantes!¡±

    She was screaming so load that some of Mrs. Dion¡¯s figurines were shacking on their little shelves.

    All the while, Isaac sat silently, not saying a word, letting her voice wash over him like she wasn¡¯t even there. Years of living with his mom had taught him that talking back would only make things worse.

    It was better to say nothing and just keep nodding his head.

    ¡° Hey!¡± Soffia said as she smacked Isaac across the head. ¡° Are you listing me?¡±

    ¡° Yes, ma¡¯am,¡± Isaac muttered.

    Mrs. Dion tried to intervene. ¡° Mrs. Cantor, please, we do not allow physical violence on this property. Now, if you could please sit down-.¡±

    That was the wrong thing to do. You do not draw attention to yourself when a bull is right in front of you.

    ¡° Excuse me? How I disciple my son should have nothing to do with you, Bree. If you can¡¯t-.¡±

    ¡°Soffia, please calm down. She''s just doing her job.¡± Patrick placed his hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down.

    Shrugging his hand off of her, Soffia ignored Patrick. Instead, Soffia started to get mad at the principal, completely forgetting Isaac for a second as she marched towards Mrs. Dion.

    ¡° That is Mrs. Dion, Mrs. Cantor. And in case you haven¡¯t forgotten, I speak Spanish as well. So if you would stop lecturing your son about this ¡° small fight¡± that doesn''t interest you, we can all sit down and talk, " Mrs. Dion said.

    ¡° Yes, why did you call us down here, Bree? Don¡¯t you know how to deal with Isaac by now? He¡¯s been here long enough; you shouldn¡¯t need us to hold your damn hand every time Isaac gets called down here. Handle it your own damn self!¡±

    Soffia stood in front of Mrs. Dion, her hands pressing down on her desk as she leaned down towards her, getting right in her face.

    Mrs. Dion tried to keep a calm face, but Isaac could already see how her eyes tightened as she looked at his mom. It looked like his mom wasn¡¯t the only one ready to pop off right now. Isaac¡¯s never seen Mrs. Dion get mad; this should be fun to see.

    ¡° Mrs. Cantor, I am trying to be respectable here, but as of right now, you have not only interrupted my meeting, but you have also rudely entered my office without my permission and are now blaming me and my staff for not disciplining your son over the trouble that he has, Trouble-.¡± Mrs Dion then lifts the folder in front. ¡° - I might add that your son has been causing for the entire three years that he has been in my care at this school.¡±

    Standing up so that she was above his mom, Mrs. Dion continued.

    ¡° Now, before I call the offices outside those doors and have you escorted off of this property, please sit down so we can have a civil conversation.¡±

    Everyone was quiet for a second, waiting to see what his mom would do. For a second, Isaac thought that he was going to see his chock-slam, his almost 6-foot-tall principal, through her desk. But thankfully, after a few seconds of tense silence, she backed off the desk and sat down next to Isaac.

    ¡° Bring a chair over here and sit down, Patrick.¡± She called back to Patrick, not taking her eyes off Mrs. Dion.

    ¡° Uh, there aren¡¯t any more chairs here, Soffi-¡± Patrick tried to tell her as he looked around the office.

    Annoyed, his mom turned to yell at his dad.

    ¡° Well, go get one out there!¡± she gestured to the door. ¡° Hurry!¡±

    Jumping up, his dad quickly ran out of the office, coming back a few seconds later with another chair. Placing it right next to Isaac, he quickly sat down. Seeing everyone waiting on her, Mrs. Dion nodded as she sat back in her chair.

    ¡° Now, before we say anything else, I would like you both to know that we at Rain Wilde know and appreciate the long history that the Cantor Family shares with Lubbock.¡± Mrs. Dion started, making sure to look at all three of them before continuing,

    ¡°However, " she pauses. ¡°That does not mean Isaac can be allowed to continue this disruptive behavior.¡±

    Looking directly at Isaac, she addressed him specifically. ¡° You have been given more leeway than anyone else. And given the situations you find yourself in, maybe too much.¡±

    ¡° Hey!¡± His mom tried to interpret, but his dad held her back

    Mrs. Dion ignored his mom. ¡°Many of your actions should have, at the very least, deserved suspension or even jail time. But you have not. Do you know why that is?¡±

    Of course, Isaac knew why; everyone knew why. And they always made sure to remind him every time he was in trouble.

    It was because of his great-grandpa.

    Thanks to his great-grandpa, Isaac could slide past almost any trouble he created thanks to his great-grandpa.

    Two years ago, during sixth grade, Isaac threw a girl off the stairs so that he would be the first one in the cafeteria.

    Now, that wasn¡¯t as bad as it sounds. People say, ¡°Off the stairs,¡± but it was only a couple of steps, not a whole story like the news was trying to tell.

    She was fine. She only had a few bruises, maybe a sprain or two, nothing major.

    Now, Isaac could have been charged with assault, and honestly, he should have been. However, the judge sentenced Isaac to just five months of comity service, during which all the money that he made would be given to the girl and her family.

    The school¡¯s punishment was that he would be in detention for the rest of the year, after school for three hours.

    Oh, and he got a personal ass beating from his mother, but that¡¯s beside the point.

    The point was that Isaac could not have gotten off so lightly if not for his great-grandpa Jaime Cantor.

    When his great-grandpa was four years old, his family moved to America from Mexico. Like everyone else who came to America, they were looking for new jobs and opportunities. In Mexico, they had nothing, but in America, they believed they had a chance.

    At that time, the Great Depression was starting to wind down, and Lubbock, a relatively new city, was looking for framers and construction workers to help build its town.

    While not knowing the trade in the beginning, the Cantor family quickly built themselves up to be the number one contracting family in Lubbock. There was not a job that his family wouldn''t do, big or small; they worked on them all.

    Pretty soon, other relatives from Mexico joined in, all wanting to build new lives in America.

    In 1956, his great-grandpa turned their small practice into a large family business. By the time his mom was born, the Cantor family had basically built Lubbock from the ground up. House schools, industrial warehouses, and government buildings were all built by Cantor''s hands.

    To this day, not a person in Lubbock knows the Cantor name. Many people will not even look at a house if it hasn¡¯t touched Cantor''s hands.

    His family has built up a lot of goodwill with the people of Lubbock. Thanks to that goodwill, Isaac can get away with so many things.

    Anything that could be considered ¡°youthful fun¡± could be brushed aside.

    As long as Isaac didn¡¯t commit any serious crimes, like drugs or permanently harming someone, then everything else could be dealt with by lighter punishments. While his family wasn¡¯t going to let him rot in prison, they also weren''t gonna let him get away scot-free.

    By their logic, he would be okay if he stayed in school and out of prison.

    ¡° It is because of your grandfather that you can enjoy your privileges. But that is over now.¡± Reaching into her desk, Mrs. Dion pulled out another folder.

    She handed his mom the folder and told her, ¡° In this folder are the emails between me and five other high schools in Lubbock. They have been in touch with me ever since Isaac¡¯s first year and have inquired about his academic progress as well as his general behavior.¡±

    ¡° I have not lied to these schools, nor have I led them astray in my words with them.¡± She told them.

    His mom didn¡¯t even open the folder or care what was written in it. She knew what her son was like.

    ¡° What does that have to do with anything.¡± She said.

    ¡° The point, Mrs. Cantor, is that over the years, Isaac''s behavior has worried many of these schools; many of them are not willing to put up with his behavior, and many are not able to.¡± Mrs Dion turned to his mom.

    ¡° Because, while he is a bright and talented child, Isaac is a very poor student. He refuses to listen to his teachers, constantly creates distractions as a personal joke, and, as of today, has caused over fifty kids to be sent to the hospital.¡±

    As Mrs. Dion spoke, the words seemed to come out faster. The words were pouring out of her mouth like a river finally breaking free of its damn. She was letting go of three years of anxiety.

    ¡° And, forgetting the thousands of dollars of property damage and the hours of additional time and money that he has cost this school cleaning up after his shenanigans that he so readily causes. Isaac does not seem to be sorry for any of it; he seems to thrive on this kind of mischief, and it is time for it to end!¡± Mrs. Dion shouted her last words into their face.

    At this point, Mrs. Dion was already standing on her feet, having stood up somewhere in the middle of her speech, when her emotions started heating up.

    This was a surreal experience for Isaac. For the first time since he¡¯d been here, Mrs. Dion had lost control over herself and yelled at a family. Over the three years since he¡¯d been here, Mrs. Dion had always been the picture-perfect version of calm, never raising her voice at even the toughest of students.

    But today, she was standing over his parents, towering over them red-faced and breathing heavily. Her feelings were coming out after holding them in for so long, and it didn¡¯t look like she was trying to hold them in any longer.

    His mom was not far behind her; she was still sitting down, but at any moment, she was going to pop off. She couldn¡¯t stand somebody talking down to her and her family. Especially when what they are saying is not true at all

    All of those instances that she had mentioned were all paid for by their family. The school paid nothing to the families or the teachers. And why did the Cantor family do that? Because while it might be a surprise for some people, Isaac was not the worst person to come out of their family.

    The Cantor family is famous for its work in Lubbock, but they are also known for being the craziest family in Lubbock. And this isn¡¯t something new. Before Jaime ever set foot on American soil, the Cantor family had been a family of troublemakers.

    So, Isaac''s behavior was not surprising to them. Every Cantor who has ever walked these halls has acted the same way, sometimes worse than Isaac.

    Soffia¡¯s Tia was even famous for planting a paint bomb in the boy''s locker room when she was in high school. The explosion resulted in the entire football team being sent to the hospital with broken bones and covered in pink paint.

    But no matter how bad the mess was, the family always made sure to be there to clean up afterward. Nothing was ever so bad that they couldn¡¯t fix it.

    The kids knew how far they could go. They never did anything that time couldn¡¯t heal, and they were always punished when they got caught.

    There was a reason that they were no longer willing to take on Isaac, and Soffia was starting to suspect why.

    On the other hand, Patrick felt the exact opposite of his wife. He was feeling embarrassed. He was so ashamed that he couldn''t even look at Mrs. Dion in the eye.

    Patrick had married into the Cantor family. He wasn¡¯t born into it like his wife; he didn¡¯t have the family''s special brand of crazy. And he certainly didn¡¯t think this was okay like his wife did.

    People who married into the family eventually came around to the family''s way of thinking, but not Patrick. Patrick was different from everyone else in the family; at times like today, that difference reared its head.

    Patrick had no idea what he was getting into when he married Soffia. He was originally from New Hampshire, living there as an only child with his parents by the sea. He wasn¡¯t the brightest kid, so college always seemed like an impossibility to him.

    So when he got a full-ride scholarship to Texas Tech, he didn''t even stop to pack his bags before he made his way to Texas.

    Of course, he had heard all about the family when he moved to Lubbock, but he assumed that they were rumors or, at the very least, stories blown way out of proportion.

    So when he first saw Soffia, he didn¡¯t even think about her family. It was love at first sight for him. He didn¡¯t care that she got into fights or interrupting the professors with silly jokes that no one laughed at.

    He just loved the way that she laughed or how she was always smiling no matter what happened. Her smile lit up his world.

    No matter where she went, his eyes followed her. Something about the way she walked, about how confident she was in herself, stuck to Patrick.

    At the time, he had no idea who she was; he only knew that he wanted to be with her. Too embarrassed to even approach her, he settled for sending her letters at school, slipping them into her lockers when he thought no one was looking.

    Of course, she knew who sent it as soon as she opened the first letter. It wasn¡¯t hard when he was the only boy on campus who would even look at her. Everyone else was too scared to even want to be friends with her because of her family, so meeting someone who wasn¡¯t was like a miracle.

    Not wanting to scare him off, she was content to let him have his secret as she waited patiently for his next letter.

    Over time, as his confidence gradually increased, he eventually introduced himself to Soffia. Talking to her for the first time was the most magical thing to ever happen to him.

    He even got her to go on a date with him; he couldn¡¯t believe it. He was so happy that he almost forgot to pick her up for the movies.

    After that, it was no time before they were married and living in a two-story house built by her family. He didn¡¯t even care that he was the one taking her name. It didn¡¯t even matter that his parents disapproved.

    They were happy and ready to start a family together. He had finally got the girl of his dreams, and nothing could ruin that.

    Then Patrick got to really know the Cantor family. Before, he had only talked to Soffia, and any interaction with her family was kept to an all-time low because she was scared that they might scare him off.

    But once they were married, there was nowhere else to hide them. He didn¡¯t have many friends, and those he did have were too scared to get close to the Cantor.

    The only person he could talk to was his wife, so he followed when she went to see her family. That was when he truly learned who the Cantor were.

    They were loud, crazy, idiotic, and wild people who did outrageous things for laughs. Most of the horror stories that he heard about the family didn¡¯t do them any justice. However, they acted out in public they were a hundred times worse when they were around family.

    They would start fights for no reason, trash the house, and then go right back to whatever they were doing before. They would say some of the most horrible things to one another and treat it like it was all a big joke.

    One time, they were going to celebrate Soffia¡¯s grandma¡¯s 65th birthday, and when they showed up, he found most of the adults sitting and drinking while their kids started a no-holds-barred wrestling match in the backyard.

    And Soffia¡¯s grandma was right in the middle of it all, wrestling each one of her great-grandkids to the ground.

    He loved his wife; he truly did. But when it came to the way that she and her family acted, he couldn''t feel farther from her; it was like they lived in two different worlds.

    Patrick was kind and gentle; he could never even imagine doing or saying the things his wife¡¯s family do and said.

    He felt like he was trapped, drowning in an ocean of crazy people and drunken brawls.

    For years, Patrick prayed that his children wouldn¡¯t end up like his wife¡¯s family. That, maybe, he could teach them to be better.

    But it was no use; the Cantor blood was too strong for hopes and prayers.

    While his two daughters are not as wild, his son is the worst. He takes after the worst aspects of his wife¡¯s family and barely any of the good.

    And now it seems that his behavior has finally caught up with them. His son has finally crossed the line.

    What were they going to do? What would Isaac do if no school in Lubbock accepted him? He can¡¯t progress in life if he doesn¡¯t go to school, and Soffia could never move to another city.

    They would have to ship him off to boarding school.

    And what if he does the same thing again? How many schools would he have to be kicked out of before he learned to be better? Would they have to just homeschool him?

    What would everyone think? Them having a son who couldn¡¯t even be accepted into highschool.

    What would his parents think?

    And Isaac, what was he doing while his parents worried about his future?

    He was smiling, thinking about what would be for dinner, and did not care at all about what his principal was saying.

    Isaac didn¡¯t think any of this mattered. So what if the schools wouldn¡¯t accept him? He could go to plenty of other schools, and if not, well, oh well.

    Either way, everything was going to be fine. Whatever happened, Isaac knew that he was going to be okay. The world will keep on spinning, and Isaac will still be Isaac.

    He was sad about not going to high school with Luci. It would have been fun, and being with her would have made high school a little more bearable.

    Besides, if high school were just going to be the same as middle school, Isaac would rather not go at all. It was either that or he was going to put someone''s head through a wall the next time he wanted to have fun.

    It would be pretty funny to see anyway, them with their head in a wall, trying to pull it out as their feet dangled in the air.

    That made him chuckle just thinking about it.

    You know what? He was going to do that anyway. Now, all he needed was a guy¡¯s head to shove into a wall; he wondered where Tanner slinked off to.

    Uh oh, Isaac must have chuckled out loud because everyone was looking at him now: Mrs. Dion, his mom, and his dad.

    ¡° Mr. Cantor, do you think this is funny.¡± Mrs. Dion questioned.

    ¡° No, Ma¡¯am.¡± Isaac replaid. ¡° Was just thinking about something else.¡±

    ¡° I hoped you would take this more seriously, Mr. Cantor; this is about your future.¡± Mrs. Dion was starting to get angry again. Her face was already starting to get a little red. If Isaac didn¡¯t answer with what she wanted, she was going to blow again.

    But Isaac was bored now; he had other things to do than listen to someone he was never going to see again. So, looking up at her, the only thing that Isaac could say, with a giant smile, was.

    ¡° I understand, ma¡¯am. Can I go now?¡±

    Now, where was Tanner? He had to catch him before he left. His head wasn¡¯t going into a wall by itself.

 B1- The Key- Chapter 3 (Part 1)

    After talking with Mrs. Dion they didn¡¯t stay at the school very long.

    Their talk in the office should have gone on longer. But after what Mrs. Dion said, Soffia just got up, took her husband by the hand, and left. She didn¡¯t say or do anything; she just got up and left.

    And they should be ecstatic that¡¯s all she did.

    Because from the way his mom had looked, it had taken everything that she had not to leap across that desk and strangle Mrs. Dion until she was blue in the face.

    They left so fast that his dad could only vaguely promise Mrs. Dion that he would " talk to Isaac¡± before he was forced out of the room.

    And then, with a final tug of the arm, he was gone.

    Isaac, seeing no reason to stay, gave his goodbye to Mrs. Dion, grinning as he followed after his parents.

    There were still a few hours of classes left, but Isaac didn''t see anybody try to stop him, so he decided to treat it like a half-day. He still had to come back tomorrow, though.

    Apparently, his guidance counselor is going to go over what schools he can still attend with him. She¡¯s supposed to help him choose what school he likes and then contact them with his answer.

    After leaving the school, they immediately hopped in the car, where his mom only had to say ¡° Drive¡± before they were off.

    It was a very quiet drive home.

    Which was bad for Isaac; car rides always made him sleepy and taking a nap right now is not a very good idea.

    And, let it be known that Isaac was, in fact, not stupid. He knew when it was okay to joke around and when it wasn¡¯t. It''s just that most of the time, he didn¡¯t care.

    But there were times when he had to acknowledge that some things just shouldn¡¯t happen.

    Falling asleep in a car with your angry parents is one of them.

    But besides his mom stewing angrily in the front seat, it was a pretty peaceful drive. The lunch rush had just ended, so the streets were empty as his dad drove them home. And compared to a city like Houston, Lubbock barely had any traffic to begin with.

    Looking out the window as they drove past, Isaac wondered what Luci would do next year. He didn''t want to sound mean, but he was her only friend.

    In fact, She was more of a loner than he was.

    Not that Isaac thought himself a loner. No, loners tried to stay away from people; people stayed away from him.

    Now, some people might think that people stayed away from Isaac because he was a violent kid who got into fights, but that wasn''t true at all.

    People stayed away from Isaac because he was annoying, not because he got into fights. Not that he didn''t get into fights, but there weren¡¯t many people to fight with in Rain Widle. But if you got past Isaac''s general deposition, you would find he was a pretty nice guy.

    Luci, on the other hand, pushed people away by not being a very nice person. She¡¯ll rip into some poor kid faster than a shark if she gets a chance.

    And don¡¯t let her find something you''re sensitive about cause if she smells blood in the water, she¡¯ll go for the jugular.

    Without someone like Isaac to bring her out of her shell, she¡¯ll just turn into another goth loner sitting by themselves in dark corners reading books, putting on dark eyeliner, and being generally unhappy.

    Okay, she already did that, but Isaac''s shiny demeanor offsets all her snarky and moody thoughts, so it balances out.

    At the end of the day, Luci needs Isaac to brighten up her day, or she will kill somebody.

    Heh, and good luck finding somebody to replace him. It took Isaac almost an entire year for Luci to begrudgingly let him hang around her. And Isaac still thinks it was because she believed that not letting him would be an even bigger headache than if she would let him.

    Not saying that she was wrong, just that Isaac had to be very annoying and very persistent to achieve ¡°the privilege of being in her general vicinity¡±; her words not his.

    Man, he¡¯s going to miss her; everything was so much more fun when she was around. Now everything is just going to be so boring without her.

    Feeling the car take a turn, Isaac looked out the window and saw that they were already turning into their driveway. Without him even noticing, they had already made it home.

    Resting his head against the cool glass window of the car, Isaac couldn''t help but think that sometimes his family could be a little cruel.

    The pranks and jokes they do are never really done with malicious intent; it''s just that their sense of humor doesn¡¯t really translate well to other people.

    Their house is the perfect example. Normally giving a house as a present is being generous. But when you see the house they live in, you can''t help but feel that it''s¡­a little out of place compared to other houses in the neighborhood.

    They lived in a nice neighborhood with nice little houses and a park down the street. It was a nice, quiet, low-middle-income neighborhood.

    Then there was their house, a beautiful two-story house covered in smooth-as-glass stucco and accented by stained wood siding. With a five-car garage and a pool in the back, it is literally the most expensive house in the neighborhood.

    The house was so big that during the day, it cast shadows completely covering the houses next to it.

    The house is a standing symbol for Patrick, letting him know that he is a Cantor.

    Or at least, that¡¯s what they told his dad.

    Isaac thinks that it was actually meant as a joke. They weren¡¯t trying to be mean, probably.. maybe? It''s a very Cantor-style joke to make a big house fun of the new guy, but the house has kind of put his dad in a poor situation.

    To start with, it¡¯s a big house that Patrick was never going to be able to afford, and then it was put in a neighborhood that didn¡¯t match its style or price. That, plus the general nature of the Cantors, made all their neighbors believe that his parents were arrogant people who liked to lord their money over people.

    The house takes up two lots; for god¡¯s sake, there weren¡¯t even two empty lots when they started building. They had to buy two houses, move the people living there, and then bulldoze them down before they could even start building the house.

    Not to mention that their house inadvertently raised the housing prices in their neighborhood. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was enough that a few people got their rent raised out of nowhere.

    So yeah, it''s a great house and a weird and expensive joke for the family.

    After opening the garage door, Patrick quickly drove inside, not wanting the neighbors to see them. Soffia, still mad, didn''t even wait for the car to stop before jumping out and stomping her way into the house, slamming doors behind her as she went.

    Patrick, already used to her temper, just finished parking. Turning off the car, Patrick took a second, sighed, and then followed after Soffia. When he was closing the driver''s side door, he glanced at Isaac and saw that he wasn¡¯t going to follow them, so he closed the door and left Isaac there.

    Still in the car, Isaac sat quietly in the back, resting his head against the seat. He wanted to enjoy the silence a little bit longer¡ªyou know, before he steps into a warzone.

    His parents loved each other, but they were also two completely different people. And while two different pieces can sometimes come together, they can also collide.

    His parents, more often than not, collided.

    It''s never fun hearing your parents argue, and it''s even worse when you see it. You hear them in your room and wonder, is this the fight when they break up? Every scream and slamming of the door makes your blood race with fear that something bad is happening.

    When you see them in each other''s faces, yelling hurtful things at each other, you get afraid. You get afraid that one of them will say something or do something that can never be taken back, and you won''t be able to stop them.

    You¡¯re afraid, believing that it''s your responsibility to step in and stop them from arguing, but that if you do, then their anger will be on you. Then you become afraid that, even though you''re standing right there, you would have missed your chance to step in and stop this from getting worse.

    And when you know that it''s your fault that they are arguing, the guilt inside you eats away until you wonder why you''re even alive.

    Isaac hates being the reason why his parents argued. He knows that it¡¯s his fault, that if he just changed how he acted, that they would be happier.

    But he doesn''t.

    Because Isaac decided a long time ago that his happiness was more important than his parents.

    Being able to do whatever you want also means accepting the consequences of your actions; that¡¯s what it means to be a Cantor.

    At least that¡¯s what Grandpa Jaime used to say. He always told everyone to ¡° Do what you want, but be prepared to take responsibility.¡± That is how all the Cantors lived.

    His Tio Julio couldn¡¯t keep it in his pants, always with some other women. And sometimes, when these women came back pregnant, what did he do?

    He took responsibility. To this day, he has four wives and ten children, almost all from different mothers.

    Great-Tia Mari loved stealing things; doesn¡¯t matter what, as long as it''s someone else''s, she¡¯ll steal it. Currently, she is serving her final year of a five-year sentence, almost completing her twelfth time in jail.

    Did she put up a fight when the police came to get her?  No, she gladly admitted to all crimes and peacefully went to jail; no fuss needed.

    The Cantor are a strange bunch. They know it; no one needs to tell them. And part of that strangeness is an unusually high amount of empathy.

    They feel the pain and trouble that they inflict on people. They know what they are doing is wrong, and if they could stop, many would.

    It''s just that they also really love causing chaos. They love being crazy, and they love being strange. They¡¯ll never stop doing the things that they love, so the only thing that they can do is gladly accept their punishments.

    This guilt is just part of Isaac¡¯s punishment.

    Feeling that he¡¯d wasted enough time stewing in his thoughts, Isaac finally got out of the car and started heading inside. If he had waited any longer, one of them might have come out to get him, and that certainly would have made things worse.

    Walking past all the bikes and boxes clustering their garage, Isaac reached the door leading inside the house. Before he even opened the door, Isaac could already hear their voices shouting from inside.

    It''s not like the door to the garage directly connects to the house; you first walk through the laundry room and then past the sunroom before you can even get into the house. So, to hear them from the garage means they must be pretty loud.

    Walking through the house, Isaac began to hear them more clearly as he got closer.

    ¡°-Not sending him away, Patrick! A Cantor stays in Lubbock!¡±

    ¡° What do you want him to do then? He can¡¯t just not go! How is he ever going to get a job if he doesn''t at least graduate High school?!¡±

    ¡° Who Cares? Let him work with Tony! He doesn''t have to go-¡±

    ¡° I am not sending him to work with your brother; he needs more than what your family can give him! My son has more options-!¡±

    ¡°What''s wrong with him working for the family? Your work with them!¡±

    ¡° No, I work for your family !¡±

    ¡° Don¡¯t start that! They were kind enough to give you a job, and you can be glad-!¡±

    Rounding the corner, Isaac looked into the living room where his parents were already at each other''s throats, screaming their heads off. It made an interesting site, his short mom against his taller dad towering over her.

    Now, most people would be surprised to know his parents get into fights; many of them probably think that his dad wasn¡¯t the type even to get angry.

    But even if he doesn¡¯t show it in public, his dad could get pretty heated if he wanted to, just like right now. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡° I am surrounded by your family everywhere I turn. There is not a place that I can go to where another one isn¡¯t around the corner, ready to fuck with me!¡±

    ¡° Oh, Please! Grow up, they¡¯re just messing with you!¡±

    ¡° All they do is mess with me. It¡¯s the Cantor¡¯s that needs to grow up, and that is what I am trying to teach my son, To Grow Up!¡±

    ¡° And what about me?! Huh! Do I need to ¡°grow up¡±?! Am I just ¡°messing with you¡±?!¡±

    ¡° THis!-This isn¡¯t about you. This is about my son not going to high school.¡±

    ¡° There it is again! Your Son, he isn¡¯t just your son. He is a Cantor! And a Cantor-¡±

    ¡° I DON''T WANT HIM TO BE JUST ANOTHER CANTOR!!¡±

    At this point, his dad was almost bent over, screaming in Soffia''s face. His face was turning an unhealthy shade of red from all the screaming he was doing. His hands were clenched tight at his sides as his breaths came out in rapid gasps.

    Soffia saw how angry her husband was; she wasn¡¯t any better. If she weren¡¯t holding herself back, she would have already broken his nose on her fist. That¡¯s why fights with Patrick were always so difficult; everything had to be done slowly with him.

    If he were a Cantor, they would have already settled this by now¡ªa couple of hits and then a few drinks afterward, and then everything is okay afterwards.

    But Patrick wasn¡¯t a Cantor; he was more sensitive than that. It''s what she loves about him, that he isn¡¯t like her family. She never wants that to change; she¡¯d rather he stay as he is over what others would prefer him to be.

    That he can show that he cares and not throw in a confetti canon just because, yes, there are times that they will fight, and that''s okay because, at the end of the day, Soffia knows that they will always love each other.

    It¡¯s just-he..he just doesn''t understand how her family does things; part of it is that he can''t, while the other is that he just doesn¡¯t want to.

    There are times like these were he just has to let these things go, and he can¡¯t accept that. He tries so hard to change how their family behaves, and at times, it''s sweet in its own way. But if he keeps pushing her to the edge, she might just say to hell with it and take a leap off that edge.

    Show him how a Cantor really settles things.

    Then, just as she was about to, something caught her eye. Isaac was standing there against the wall, watching his parents raise hell at each other. It stopped her and made her think about what she was doing. Their fighting wasn¡¯t anything new; they usually fought at least once a week.

    Not that that was a bad thing. In fact, Soffia felt like their fights actually helped their marriage, kept things interesting. But she has never wanted to hit her husband like this before.

    That bitch must have really got on her nerves if she was already thinking of hurting her husband. Just another to hate her.

    Looking back at Isaac, she could see how this was affecting him. Cantors are emotional people; they wear their hearts on their sleeves. So, seeing how worried and tense her son was watching them fight made her heart twist deep in her chest.

    Teenage years are hard for Cantors; it¡¯s the time in their life when new emotions rear their head and tear them apart. A time when they feel like nothing that they do is right. Dout and depressing and ruin a Cantor''s life far worse than anything else in this world.

    Soffia wants to show her son that how they live their life isn¡¯t wrong. Something that punching his dad definitely wouldn¡¯t help.

    Taking a deep breath, Soffia tried to calm down. She had to be the better person, show her son that nothing was wrong, no matter how she felt. So gritting her teeth, Soffia took a deep breath and said.

    ¡° Isaac is a Cantor; whether you like it or not, nothing is going to change that. He will stay here, and either he gets lucky and gets into a school in Lubbock, or he starts helping the family.¡±

    ¡° That is not your decision to make.¡± Patrick, lowering his voice, said.

    ¡° It doesn¡¯t matter what you think. When you married into the family, you knew that there were going to be things that you wouldn¡¯t like. This is one of them; Isaac will not be leaving.¡± Soffia said.

    Partick growled; he couldn¡¯t understand why his wife, no, why the whole Cantor family had to be so stubborn. It''s like they live in their own little world, and everyone else just has to follow along.

    But now, their little world was crumbling down. Everyone knows this, and many people are not going to let them just carry on like nothings changed. Whether they like it or not, things are going to change, and if they keep on doing the same thing that they have always been doing, then they are going to end up in a lot of trouble.

    ¡° You can¡¯t keep protecting him, Soffia.¡± Patrick tried telling her.

    But Soffia was unmoved; nothing that he could say was going to change her mind.

    ¡° Whatever. Let''s stop talking about this now, ok?¡±

    Now that she had calmed down, Soffia didn¡¯t feel like arguing anymore. This how balc and forth was stupid. The decision was already made, and there was no use in arguing about it.

    A Cantor never leaves Lubbock.

    Steeping forward, Soffia gave Patrick a big hug around the waist. Holding him tightly she wanted him to know that they were done fighting, that everything was okay now.

    But Patrick didn¡¯t feel that way.

    ¡° Soffia, Stop!¡± He said, pulling her arms off of him.

    ¡° What?¡± She asked, confused.

    Looking down into her eyes, Patrick almost let it go. He should have just let it go, moved on, and gone about his day, never trying to bring this up again. Look, already her brand new smile was being wiped off her face, and it was all his fault.

    Her soft brown eyes looked so lost as she stared back into his eyes. Asking him why, why was he pushing her away.

    But he couldn¡¯t just move past this. He tried bringing this up before, trying to talk to her before they went to sleep, but he.. just couldn¡¯t say the words. He¡¯d always stop short and tell her never mind.

    This time, he couldn¡¯t back down; he had to convince her that things were not going to be like they were.

    Not anymore.

    ¡° Soffia, you know that they are using Isaac as an example.¡± He said. Still hoping that she would get what he was trying to say without him having to say it.

    But Soffia just scoffed. ¡° So, what? Cantor¡¯s aren¡¯t afraid of a little bit of trouble.¡±

    Smiling up at him, Soffia tapped him on the chest. ¡° Plus, this isn¡¯t the first time they¡¯ve tried that. Heck, they try to get a couple of us in jail every few years.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ll be fine, Patrick.¡± Smiling at Patrick she went to hug him again, trying to reassure him.

    But he didn¡¯t let up. Grabbing her hands before they could wrap around him, Patrick brought them to his chest, holding them there so that she could look at his face.

    ¡° NO, it won''t be Soffia, Not with-.¡± He tried to say, but the words were caught in his throat.

    But it was enough. Patrick could see in her eyes that she knew what he was trying to say. And she didn¡¯t like it.

    She was getting mad again; even Isaac from the hallway could see that. Tearing her hands away from him, Soffia reached out, grabbed Partick by his shirt, and dragged him down. She brought him to her face, so close that their noses were almost touching.

    Looking him deep into his eyes, she wanted him to see just how angry she was. Her eyes were a mad flurry of movement as she searched every inch of his face for a speck of reason for why he was saying this.

    ¡° With what!? Patrick, what were you going to say.¡± She was daring him, daring him to finish what he was going to say.

    Patrick, feeling that he had to get it off his chest at least, continued.

    ¡° Jaime died, Soffia, and the city is-¡± But before he could finish his sentence, Soffia was already moving.

    A loud, crisp slap echoed out in the house, cutting off Patrik before he could say another word. Soffia slapped him across the face, not wanting to hear another word out of his mouth. She hit him with everything she had, turning his head to the side as a red handprint glowed on his face.

    Not wanting to do anything she might regret, Soffia turned and walked away. Leaving Patrick alone in the living room. A few seconds after she left, a loud bang followed, she locked herself in their room, slamming the door behind her.

    Sighing, Patrick could only walk in the opposite direction, waiting until she calmed down before trying to talk to her again. He still believed that he was right in what he was saying, but he also knew that right now, Soffia wasn¡¯t ready to listen to what he had to say.

    Alone in the hallway, Isaac could only imagine what his mom was thinking.

    Great-grandpa Jaime died six months ago. He was Seventy-three years old when he died in his sleep. Having lived through the great depression, multiple wars, and the moon landing, he was the oldest living person in the family.

    Six kids, twenty-seven grandkids, and seventy-two great-grandchildren. All of them there by his side, no one wanting to miss a single second as he lay there in his bed.

    Isaac could still remember everyone crowding around Grandpa¡¯s house for the entire month of November. Tents littered their yard for people to sleep. The space inside the house was almost nonexistent as everyone piled in, waiting for their chance to be with Grandpa.

    The entire Cantor business ground to a halt as everyone refused to spend even a second away from Granpa Jaime.

    Chuckling to himself, Isaac could still feel his shoulders being squeezed on both sides as him and his sisters were squished together at the dinner table with all of their other cousins, all fighting for more space.

    Everyone was crying, the morning after they found him. Man, the noise they made must have sounded like a tornado siren. They almost woke up the entire city because they were so loud.

    But what could you do? They were sad. Grandpa Jaime was the glue that held them all together. He made them what they were today, and now he was gone.

    After the funeral, it became almost an unspoken rule not to bring up his death. Everyone seemed to just want to remember the good times when he was still alive and healthy.

    It''s why his mom refuses to even talk about his death; it¡¯s like they''re trying to keep him alive, in their own way.

    But Isaac also understood what his dad was saying. Grandpa Jaime was old, old enough to see this city when it was still a baby. And it¡¯s because he¡¯s so old that he was able to affect the city this much.

    Granda Jaime did so much for this city. He didn¡¯t only build their homes; he was also a very charitable guy. If someone needed help, he helped them in any way he could, extending payments, free remodels, you name it.

    Once, he, with the rest of the family, built an entire neighborhood of houses that he then gave out for free to whoever needed it.

    All of that led to him making a lot of friends, friends that would later help him keep his children and their children out of jail because of their practical jokes.

    Grandpa¡¯s friends knew that Cantors were a wild bunch, but they were a kind, wild bunch. They agreed with Jaime that his family didn¡¯t need to be vilified, just ¡°directed¡±. So long as any damage was fixed and paid for, then the Cantors could avoid jail time, you know, as long as it was nothing too serious.

    But the old guards were changing. Old friends were stepping down, and new ones were taking their place. And now, with Granpa dead, a lot of goodwill towards the Cantors was starting to fade.

    His mom didn¡¯t want to talk about it, but Granpa Jaimes''s death might have a greater lasting impact than they think on the family.

    Wiping his glasses with his shirt, Isaac wondered what he should do now. His parents just stopped fighting, so everything was going to be quiet for a while. Guess the only thing to do was lay down and wait for dinner.

    Putting his glasses back on his face, Isaac moved away from the wall and started walking to his room.

    Checking to make sure that no one else was around, Isaac quickly scampered past the living room before making it into the hallway on the other side. It¡¯s worth mentioning again, but Isaac lived in a big house.

    A two-story, five-garage, and five-bedroom house plus a couple of open rooms for thrown in for the hell of it. It was a big house, big enough that Isaac and his sisters could each have their own room and still have one left over. You know, in case anybody wanted to stay the night.

    It''s a great house; there''s just one tiny problem.

    It¡¯s a Cantor house.

    Now, the Cantors have been in the framing business for a long time. They make good, sturdy houses while also being affordable, everyone loves them. However, they have jokes hidden in the walls.

    It is, at this point, almost a scientific fact that a Cantor can¡¯t do anything without making a joke about it. They¡¯re the kind of people that, when they go to a wedding, they¡¯ll be the ones throwing water balloons at people. If there''s a funeral, they¡¯ll put glitter bombs under every chair and set them off while playing a trumpet on top of the casket.

    So if a whole team of Cantor spend weeks building a house, then you know it''s gonna have a couple ¡°surprises¡± for anyone living there.

    Fake skeletons, squeaky floorboards, weird light coloring, anything and everything that they find funny you might find in a Cantor house. It''s never anything serious, just annoying. Some people learn to live with it, mostly though they just pay someone to fix everything.

    Apparently, the Mathews family is making pretty good money doing that.

    For family, the Cantors went all out on their jokes. Switching the hot and cold pipes so that cold is hot and vice versa, making all facets have a water pressure that is barely above a trickle. They even somehow made it so that every garage door remote opens a different garage door every time you use it.

    But what they did to their rooms is almost diabolical. All the bedrooms were put down in the same hallway, each one lining the walls, while the master bedroom was put at the end of the hall, watching over all the other rooms.

    The doors are so loud that you can hear them every time they open or close, especially when you''re asleep. They even made it so that only the bedroom walls are thin, making it almost impossible not to hear what anyone is doing.

    Isaac''s room was the first one on the right, the farthest from his parent''s room while also being the closest to the kitchen. It also made it especially easy to slip inside without alerting his parents.

    After getting inside, Isaac quietly closed the door, holding on to the doorknob. Isaac waited. He was waiting to make sure that no one heard him going to his room. Even though he was pretty sure he wasn¡¯t in trouble with his mom, he still didn¡¯t want her to think about him right now.

    His mom had a pretty one-track mind when her emotions were involved. If she was angry at one thing, she was angry at everything, and if she couldn''t be mad at something, then she¡¯d make a reason to be mad.

    And right now, he didn¡¯t want to deal with that.

    Right now, Isaac just wanted to rest, maybe take a quick nap. After all, he had quite the workout during lunch.

    Comparing Isaac¡¯s room to his sisters'', it¡¯s pretty plain. No poster on his walls or shelves full of stuffed animals. He didn¡¯t have stereos for his music or piles of clothes on the floor. He didn¡¯t even paint the walls like they did; he didn¡¯t think there was a reason to.

    What¡¯s wrong with a nice beige?

    There''s no need to paint the walls pink or purple; just be happy with the nice beige already there.

    In fact, the only color in his room besides the beige walls were the navy blue sheets on his bed and brown on his wooden dresser.

    Beside the bed and a closet, the only thing that he had in his room was a shelf for his books, a dresser for clothes, and a TV for his games. He didn''t even have a chair to sit on; why would he when he could use his bed instead?

    As he took off his shoes, Isaac found himself thankful that the rooms were at least carpeted. Everywhere else in the house was either tile or hardwood floor, made it hell to walk around barefoot¡ªanother one of his family''s jokes.

    Walking to his bed, Isaac wondered what people would think if they saw his room. They probably wouldn¡¯t even believe that it was his room to begin with. Nothing about this room reflected the Isaac they knew- a loud, annoying ball of energy that couldn¡¯t stand sitting still.

    What they didn¡¯t know was that the only reason Isaac was like that was because he was around so many people. Put him in a room by himself, and he¡¯ll never say another word. Come on, it¡¯s not like he¡¯s insane; there¡¯s no fun doing all that if nobody is around.

    Isaac loves messing with people. Seeing their silly reaction to everything he does just seemed to make the world, brighter. In his mind, he was doing this world a favor. He was taking these boring and serious people and making them silly.

    But if everyone ignored Isaac, then he would leave them alone. It''s no fun playing with statues.

    Well, no, that''s not true. Because Isaac would just try harder; statues are just made of stone; after all, sooner or later, they¡¯ll break.

    Like Luci, it was fun getting through her shell.

    As Isaac layed down on his bed, he couldn¡¯t help but think back on everything he and Luci did together.

    The pep rally shower of snow, the spicy water through the plumbing, the pastenote teacher longe. True, it was mainly him doing all of those, but Luci was always right there behind him, he was sure of it.

    Was she..she was right behind him right? You know, now that he''s thinking about it, was she there for any of it?

    Maybe he told her.

    Eh, who cares? If he had fun, then he had enough fun for both of them.

    The last thing that Isaac thought as he drifted off to sleep was that it was gonna be pretty sad not going to school with Luci.

 B1 - The Key - Chapter 3 (Part 2)

    ***

    ¡° Come sit down!¡± Someone screamed, waking Isaac up from his nap.

    Still groggy, Isaac tried to rub his eyes, only to find that he still had his glasses on. He had forgotten to take them off again. At least he¡¯s not the kind of guy who moves when he sleeps, or else he might have messed up his glasses.

    Ignoring his glasses for a moment, Isaac tried to figure out what woke him up. The only thing he heard was someone screaming ¡° down¡±.

    Which wasn¡¯t all that helpful when you live with the kind of family he had. Down could mean many things: the TV is down, he fell down, put down that gun.

    It hadn¡¯t been a real gun, but in this family, you had to know what was happening around you.

    Checking his phone for the time, Isaac saw that it was already six-thirty. Dinner was usually from five to seven, depending on how late everyone was. So, his mom was probably calling everyone for dinner.

    Wait, six-thirty?

    Frowning, Isaac tried to remember, what time did he go to sleep?

    They had gotten home around one, and then his parents argued for a while, so by the time he actually got to his room and laid his head down, it should have been around two.

    Four hours, he had slept for four hours.

    ¡®Damn it,¡¯ he thought ¡®It¡¯s gonna take forever to go to bed now.¡¯

    He had just wanted a small nap, not actually go to sleep. Now, tonight, when everyone else is asleep, he¡¯ll be stuck wide awake, bored out of his mind.

    ¡° Unh!¡± Tasting his mouth, Isaac let out a grunt. He doesn¡¯t know why, but his mouth always tasted terrible after waking up.

    Welp, can''t eat tasting sleep breathe, can he?

    Getting up, Isaac walked out of his room and down the hall into the restroom. Isaac was the only one in the house without a restroom in his room, meaning he had to use the one in the hallway. Which was ok; the other ones were too small, so he got more space¡­to still be able to put nothing in.

    Walking to the sink, Isaac stuck his head under the facets before turning on the water. He stayed like that for a couple of minutes, letting the cool water fill his mouth, not drinking it but just enjoying how cool it felt.

    But, knowing he needed to hurry, Isaac quickly got to work. Lifting his head, he started swishing the water in his mouth, moving it around, just trying to get that old sleep taste out of his mouth before spitting it out. Then he did it again, filling his mouth with water and spitting it out.

    Finally, when he no longer tasted it, he turned off the water and went to the kitchen.

    Today was Wednesday, meaning that they were having something American tonight. Not his favorite; those were Mondays when they had Italian or Fridays with pizza night.

    On Wednesday, they usually meant something fried or grilled. Like hamburgers or chicken fried chicken. And by the smell coming from the kitchen, they were having hamburgers.

    Walking into the dining room, Isaac saw that he was the last one to come to the table. His mom and dad were already in their spots while his two sisters, Anne and Mirra, were just barely sitting down with their plates.

    Anne was his older sister, already seventeen and hard as nails. If Isaac had to describe her, she was like those old-school Rocksters, always listening to loud music and going out late with her friends.

    Looked like them, too, with her short black hair, her dark round glasses, and her leather jacket with the patches.

    She was the ¡°quiet¡¯ one in the family, always serious and stone-faced but caring¡­in her own way.

    He thinks¡­she punched that kid who was making Mirra cry that one time so that counts for something. It was really funny too because of how short she was. The kid was actually taller than her.

    He was also taller than Isaac, but that wasn¡¯t the point.

    Anne wasn¡¯t as loud as Isaac, but when she wanted to, she could stir up just as much trouble. She was also an artist, quietly sketching in her room while chaos unfolded around her.

    Mirra, on the other hand, was the happy child. Barley eleven years old and already a ball of sunshine, skipping everywhere she went, acting all cute. She is the kind of person who wouldn¡¯t sit still if something bad was happening.

    Annoyed the hell out of him is what she did. Here he is trying to make his jokes, and then she comes around acting all cute and ruins the whole joke. Telling him that he wasn¡¯t nice and needed to stop or she¡¯d tell Dad.

    She¡¯s so sweet that she¡¯d make friends with anyone, even with people who are mean to her.

    She¡¯d be standing there all cutesy with her long brown hair swept back with her pink headband and just look at you with those light brown eyes so full of joy. Asking you to be her friend as she twirled in her immaculate white baby heels.

    Being the middle child wasn¡¯t a bad thing; it just made it seem like he was stuck between two extremes. One always serious, and the other always happy.

    Seems like he¡¯s the only normal one.

    ¡° Good morning!¡± Isaac exclaimed, walking past them as he went into the kitchen. Only getting an exasperate ¡°It''s almost seven¡± from Anne and a ¡° good morning¡± from Mirra as he went by.

    In the kitchen Soffia had spread out all the ingredients for hamburgers on the counter. The patties, already grilled, were by the buns while the tomatoes and lettuce were set off the side. Cheese and condiments were kept in the fridge while the fries sat on the stove in their tray.

    After making his hamburger with pepperjack and tomatoes and a plate piled high with fries, he made his way back to the table.

    But before he sat next to his mom, Isaac leaned across the table and stole some of Anne¡¯s fries from her plate.

    Snorting, Anne rolled her eyes as she quietly ate her burger. Chuckling, Isaac sat down, his prize added to his own pile. Annoying Anne was like a game; you had to do it just enough that she¡¯d find it funny but not enough that she¡¯d get mad and leave.

    Now, most people would think dinner at the Cantor''s house would be a crazy mess, showcased with screaming and food flying everywhere. But it was actually quite the complete opposite.

    In fact, most dinners were kind of mild compared to the rest of their day. They do some pretty hectic things during the day, so it''s nice to come home and enjoy some family time.

    That''s why his mom is eating with them instead of in her room. Dinner time is family time, which means no fighting, screaming, or skipping.

    As he bit into his burger, Isaac peeked at his parents, wanting to see if they had made up by now. It had been hours since their fight, so they should have calmed down by now.

    But looking at them, well, the only thing that Isaac could say was that at least they weren''t screaming at each other.

    His mom seemed fine; she just quietly ate her food, not saying a word to anyone. Happy to ignore whatever was said and move on.

    His dad, on the other hand, didn¡¯t look ready to move on. He looked like there were still some things that he wanted to say. Every few seconds, he would look back at Soffia, waiting to see when she¡¯d finish so that they could continue talking.

    The only thing stopping him from bringing it up at the table was that he didn¡¯t want to ruin their family dinner. He was probably the one who liked dinner the most, as it was the one time that the family could be normal.

    But when dinner was done, he was going to try again; Isaac just knew it.

    Looking at Anne and Mirra, Isaac could see that they were tense. They were trying to act normal, but Isaac could tell. Mirra was talking less, and Anne was barely looking at her phone at all tonight. It didn¡¯t feel right, everyone acting like this.Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    Everything just felt heavy at the table.

    So, trying to fix this mess, some would say that he caused, Isaac decided to break the ice.

    ¡° So, how was your day?¡± Flawless, he thought.

    Smiling, Isaac looked around the table, waiting for someone to speak up. If he was going to break this tension, he needed to get people talking. Thankfully, there was always someone ready to talk.

    And she didn¡¯t disappoint.

    ¡° Oh! Today, I got to play dodgeball in the gym. It was so fun to play, and everyone had such a good time. Jacy and I were working together where I would catch it, and she would throw-¡±

    Getting Mirra to talk wasn¡¯t hard; just give her the mike, and she¡¯ll go on for hours.  But if he was going to break this tension, he needed both of his sisters. Anne was harder to get talking, but not impossible; she just needed a little push. One that Mirra is perfect at giving.

    ¡°-and then, after lunch, we got to hear that Isaac made another mess. At first, I didn¡¯t believe it, well no, I believed it, what I didn¡¯t believe was that he would do this and not invite us again, he said ¡° Mirra, the next time that I get in a fight I¡¯ll let you watch¡± and did he do that, nooooo-¡±

    ¡° Shut up, Mirra.¡±  Finally, Anne couldn¡¯t take it anymore; she had to get Mirra to stop talking.

    ¡° You can''t say shut up. Mom tell her that she can''t say that. We can''t say shut up at the table; that goes against the no-fighting rule. If you are going to ignore the rules, then I¡¯ll-¡±

    ¡° ARGH!¡± Anne screamed, her hands covering her face.

    ¡°What''s wrong, Anne,¡± Isaac asked, smiling at her.

    Moving her hands, Anne glared at Isaac.

    ¡°What''s wrong? What''s Wrong!? Well, let me tell you what''s wrong. First, today, I had to hear that my brother got into a bit of trouble with Marleen¡¯s brother.¡±

    ¡° Oh, who was that?¡±

    ¡° TANNER YOU IDIOT! Her brother is Tanner! Argh she¡¯s going to have the biggest end-of-the-year party at her parent''s house, and now I¡¯m not invited.¡±

    ¡° Hey, you can¡¯t yell at the table, Anne; dinner time is a happy time where no one yells, and -¡±

    ¡° AND then she had to go and say those stupid things about you and the family, so then I had to punch her in the mouth, and I don''t care what those teachers said, but dam,n was it satisfying, but now I¡¯m defiantly won''t get to go to her party. ¡±

    Covering her face with her hands again, she let out another sorrowful groan.

    ¡° Uh, Aziel and I were going to go to the party together, kick off summer with a bang, and now what is he going to do? He¡¯s going to go without me.¡±

    As Anne continued talking, Isaac leaned over to Mirra. ¡° Who¡¯s Aziel?¡±

    ¡° Come on, Isaac, Aziel is her boyfriend; she¡¯s been dating him for a few months now and-¡±

    ¡° Wait, I thought her boyfriend was Mark?¡±

    ¡° No, that was the one before Lane.¡±

    ¡° Oh yeah, I remember, Lane, what a stupid name.¡±

    ¡° Don¡¯t say that; there is nothing wrong with Lane. I have a friend whose name is Kneeb, ooh you should meet him, come one next time I see him I¡¯ll take you, he usually lives near the United on 50th street but now that it¡¯s warmer he should have moved down to University.¡±

    As they talked, Isaac could see that Anne and Mirra were starting to relax visibly. Their talking was actually helping. It didn¡¯t look like it, but as they talked, their shoulders started to relax as the tension in their bodies left them.

    Sure, it looks like they were fighting, but this is just how their family is. And it''s fun.

    Even his parents were looking more relaxed. Sure, his mom still wouldn¡¯t look at his da,d and his dad was probably still going to talk with his mom, but right now, things were returning to normal.

    Ding-Dong

    All of a sudden, the doorbell rang. It was so unexpected that everyone immediately quieted down. Looking at the clock it was already past seven. No one should be here right now.

    ¡° Isaac, go see who it is.¡± His mom said, speaking for the first time that night.

    Signing, Isaac wondered why he was the one that always had to get up. Anne and Mirra could go; their legs worked just fine. But instead of saying that, he put his food down, got up, and went to the door.

    Checking the window by the door, Isaac looked to see if anyone was outside. He didn¡¯t see anyone, but he still wanted to be careful, last year someone had tried to break into their house. They never got anything, but it never hurt, just to make sure.

    Turning on the porch light, Isaac opened the door. He was expecting to see a car in the driveway at least, but there was no one there. Stepping out onto the porch, Isaac looked up and down the street, trying to find anyone who could have rang the doorbell.

    And while the sun was going down, making it harder to see, he saw what looked like a van driving down the street away from their house. Strange, but it''s a street. There are cars everywhere.

    Who rang the bell?

    Just as he was about to head inside, his foot touched something. It was a package, a box, wrapped in brown paper and placed neatly on their welcoming mat.

    Now Isaac was really confused because the Post Office had stated in no uncertain terms that neither they, nor anyone in the shipping industry, was going to walk up to a Cantor¡¯s door.

    Way too many incidents with a paint gun. Even though his cousin Matt did something unique with some string, tape, rubber duck, and elephant glue, really funny when they watched the video during Christmas.

    Picking the package up, Isaac tried to see who had sent it. He didn¡¯t bring it inside, oh no; you learn quickly as a Cantor not to bring strange things inside, from family or otherwise.

    The package was box-shaped and very sturdy. Didn¡¯t give at all when he tried pressing down on it. Which meant that it wasn¡¯t going to be something nasty. Those you leave in a bag and let it rot, boxes just stop the smell from spreading further.

    It also didn¡¯t have any breathing holes, so no animals, well, no living animals.

    The folding and taping were pretty nice, like someone wrapped a Christmas present.

    Isaac didn¡¯t know what was in this thing. It was small, so it wasn''t anything too dangerous, and not something that was going to explode either. Isaac had given it a good shake to make sure, and while he did hear something in there, it wasn¡¯t a bomb.

    Those would have gone off with how hard he shook it.

    Turning it over, he tried to find some kind of name, sender''s note, or something. And while it did have his name, written in large letters on the back, there wasn''t anything else.

    After he was sure that the package wasn¡¯t anything too dangerous Isaac finally brought it inside.

    Locking the door behind him, Isaac walked back into the dining room. Everyone was still there waiting for him as they continued eating.

    Setting the package on the counter, Isaac sat back down and continued eating.

    Ignoring their looks, Isaac grabbed some fries, ate his burger, and enjoyed his dinner.

    ¡°Well?¡± Anne finally asked.

    ¡°Well, what?¡± He asked back after swallowing his food.

    ¡° Who was outside, what did you bring in? Did you get us something huh, is it something that we shouldn''t know, like a present or a love letter? You know Mary got a letter like that in her locker; she wouldn''t tell me who-¡±

    Isaac was content to let Mirra talk herself out as she rambled on if he let her, maybe she¡¯ll distract everyone long enough so he can finish his dinner.

    But it seems his mom is not that patient.

    ¡° Ok, Mirra. Isaac, go get it and show us what it is.¡±

    Sighing, Isaac, once again forced to put down his food, stood up and returned with the package. Giving it to Mirra Isaac let her have all the fun of opening the damn thing.

    Plus, if it turned out to be something bad, then at least it didn''t happen to him.

    ¡° OOO thanks, Isaac, what is it? The paper is nice it''s almost like a present, so I was right. It''s for Isaac; look, his name is on it. I wonder what is underneath? Oh, and inside is a box, look nice too. It''s stained and everything, all glossy. And¡­Uh, Isaa,c look.¡±

    That was weird. Usually ,if Mirra has something new in her hands she¡¯d go on for hours, listing all the things that make it unique and special. She normally doesn¡¯t try to give it to him.

    Looking over, Isaac wanted to ask Mirra what was wrong, but the words got stuck in his throat. Under the box and the back side ,someone had carved in a name.

    Jaime Cantor.

    Thats¡­That¡¯s not right. Grandpa never had a box like that because they would have seen it. Mirra was right. It was a nice looking box, they would know. Their family, along with selling houses, does a little side business with carving furniture and sculptures, it''s something that everyone does.

    And this box was done nicely. The wood was sanded down well and the staining was down with a dark, almost black, brown stain with red highlights peeking through.

    The thing was small, barely fitting in their palms. And the lid was not something they see often, instead of a hinged doo,r this one looked like it slid open. Altogether it was a very nice box.

    And not something that they had ever seen Granpa have.

    And even if it was his, who would give it to him?

    The will reading was done four months ago. Everyone already got what he had given them; this box wasn¡¯t even on the list of things that were handed out.

    Everything about this box just raised more and more questions, questions that he couldn¡¯t answer. And by the looks of the rest of the table, they couldn¡¯t either.

    Not knowing what else to do, Isaac took the box from Mirra and, under everyones watchful eyes, slid the box open.

    Someone gasped; he couldn''t tell who. He was too busy trying to figure out why someone gave him a key.

    In the box, sitting on a velvet lining ,was a golden key. It looked old, with a decorated crown looking top and two pronged teeth at the bottom. And there was also a string tied to the head.

    Picking it up, Isaac noticed how the key shined in his hand. The gold reflecting the light as he turned it over. The thing was heavy, he noticed, almost like two pounds.

    Tied to the string was a note, the note, supposildy from his Grandpa read four words.

    DONT TRUST THE TOWER