The Restroom

The sun's rising again. 

Another school day started, this being part of my second year of high school at Evergreen High School. My name is Remington. I just woke up, brushed my teeth, ate one carefully toasted slice of toast, and am now taking a nice leisurely stroll to begin school. I look up. The clouds covering that blue sky. You can see the sun creeping up behind the clouds. A couple years ago, a friend told me if I look at the sun for long enough, I'll eventually be able to see who my soulmate will be. I never really got that, but that doesn't matter, I don't need the sun to tell me the future. Plus, all you'll see is their silhouette burned into your retinas anyways.

Speak of the devil, that good friend I was talking about was waiting in front of the school with our other buddies. And his name is Cooper. He has this specific hairstyle of black, long, and emo. He is wearing a dark green jacket over a faded blue t-shirt that has a chest pocket. He is the shortest out of our group. 

The guy next to Cooper is Apollo. His IQ is 150 or 50 depending on the situation. He has short, curly hair and never fails to lose the Zuckerberg outfit: a plain t-shirt with jeans. His weaknesses: he wears contacts and is allergic to bees. Let's hope selling user data isn't added to the list in the future. 

To end this introductions train, we have Randy, the guy next to Apollo. He offers fellow students complementary knuckle sandwiches during lunch. Quite the generous soul. Despite appearances, he's still allowed to be part of the art club. He wears a hat over a bandana along with clothes one size too large for him. He goes by the name Andy because the name is shorter. What a modern convenience.

"Yo! Let's go already!" yells Cooper.

"Sorry, introductions take forever," I explain. What an impatient loser, am I right?

"Wait what?"

We continue our walk into the school, talking about a variety of subjects to forget the fact that it's another Monday, and the bell rings. We are about to go off on our separate ways. We exchanged emotional handshakes and went on to our first classes. It was a normal day, honestly. The real story begins after school in my eyes.

The last bell rang. I lift myself up from my desk and exited the classroom. My phone buzzed. It was just a message from the group chat:

"Cooper: Hey, why don't we visit Andy in the art room today?"

I stare at the message. I respond:

"K"

I wait for a couple moments. Another response:

"Apollo: Alright, meet you guys there."

I guess I have no choice.

I walk to the art room. Cooper and Apollo were there of course. We entered the room. This art room is interesting. It's an art room with all sorts of pieces of art including sketches, paintings, clay sculptures, and pottery. The thing is, there are mostly rival gangs sitting in their respective table groups. They were probably competing for best tear-jerking artwork. The table Andy was sitting at was filled with people wearing purple bandanas. The table next to them had people wearing yellow bandanas. There were two other tables filled with normal art club members trying to mind their own business. As we walk by them, they look away for some reason. They probably don't want to get caught in the crossfire of the war that takes place everyday in here.

We walk up to Andy. A guy stood up from his chair. He has long, messy hair that has a middle part to it. He is also rocking a pair of binoculars over his hoodie. 

"What's the password, huh?" this guy says. This is interesting, he must be new.

Cooper walks in front of the man and says, "Erm. Nice haircu-"

Within a split second, this man smacked Cooper across the face with a paintbrush. Red was dripping from in between Cooper's fingers as Cooper holds his nose in pain. Oh my god, I just witness a bloodbath! My eye darts towards the paintbrush as he puts it in a water filled cup next to a bottle of red paint, and oh it was red paint.

Andy, upon seeing what just occurred, stood up and puts his hand on the guy's shoulder and said, "They cool, they cool. Chill out."

The now chilled out guy sits back down on his chair, still facing us though.

"Sorry, he's new. His name is Edgar, by the way. Despite how he is, he's pretty cool. We go birdwatching sometimes," Andy says. Nice thing to know. I guess he's always prepared in case some rare bird appears out the window.

"So, what are you guys working on?" I ask.

"Take a look at it yourself," Andy leads us to what everyone was working on. Everyone was painting their own part of some kind of mural. A wall of images representing their gang. Apparently they are called the Renaissance. Talk about refined.

"Quite impressive," Apollo asserts, elegantly. "This resembles the golden ratio. A beautiful piece of mathematics demonstrated by the-"

"Nice observation, but what is the other gang doing?" I interrupt. He really talks like he's trying to reach the minimum word count.

"The Golden Age is working on their own mural. But that's besides the point. Why don't you guys join us while I talk about something that's been on my mind?" Andy offers.

Me and the boys sat down and were given canvases and were instructed to ink parts of the mural.

Cooper after frantically searching his backpack asks Apollo, "Can I borrow a pen?"

"Here's my backpack, I keep my pens in the lower front pocket." Cooper holds his backpack and goes through that lower front pocket. Lots of ruffling, but I stopped paying attention to that because Andy has something to say.

"So what I was going to talk about was something that I've been wondering for a good week or two," He starts, "You know the restroom on the second floor that's furthest away from the classrooms?"

We looked at him and nodded.

"I sometimes go there during 2nd period whenever class gets boring, but every time I do, there's always smoke coming out of the stall furthest away from the door."

Bam! We look at Cooper's direction to see that he accidentally poked a hole through his canvas with a little dent on his side of the table. I didn't know he had pent up resentment. Hopefully that's all he's going to do but maybe it's best for him to avoid stray cats for now.

"Oops," said Cooper.

"Don't apply so much force next time," Apollo retorts, "Learn to balance your center of gravity and arm strength."

"Why is his right arm so strong?" asks Andy. "Anyways, do you guys have any idea where the smoke is coming from? Because I'm pretty sure water isn't supposed to catch fire."

"Don't be dumb," I said. "Clearly there is a fire source in there. Did you forget the toilet paper?"

Cooper chimes in, "Maybe some witchcraft or some voodoo magic is happening in there."

That's when it's all decided, we're going to stop the evil sorcery that's happening in that bathroom stall, no matter the cost. 

As I walk home, I think about the conversation that transpired. If we stop whatever was going on in there, wouldn't we earn some sort of award for stopping some impending Armageddon? I hope there's some cash that goes along with the award, because I could really use some for those plushies of characters from that bullet hell game, or maybe I could pay taxes, but luckily I could follow the example of responsible adults and avoid them. I've been tasked to carry a fire extinguisher while everyone else will bring something for any possibility. I stare at my bedroom ceiling. What if we fail to prevent some greater evil brewing in that restroom?

Eh, it's whatever. Goodnight.

I wake up and thought about how this would probably be my last day on Earth, but that won't stop me from wearing my usual black generic dragon hoodie and pajama pants to school. I grab my backpack and fire extinguisher and head off to school. Good thing my parents didn't ask any questions when I said that it was for school.

Here I am, back at the entrance of the school. I'm not exactly ripped so carrying this fire extinguisher was a pain. It'll all be worth it at the end. Oh look, the boys are already here.

"Yo!" said Cooper a little too loud for my likings. He is holding a cardboard box. There better not be a bomb in there.

"Delighted you are able to arrive here," Apollo remarks while holding a Bible. Didn't take him for a religious guy but whatever.

"Is everyone ready?" asks Andy. He is wielding two metal rulers that was taped together for increased range.

"I was born ready," I said. More like I was ready to be a national hero.

We enter the school and went off to class as usual, though I don't know how Cooper's bomb-looking thing isn't going to get confiscated. By second period, I asked to use the restroom and was allowed to leave. We met up there and that's when we started approaching it. As we got closer to that restroom, the more I notice Cooper's legs quiver more and more violently.

"Umm, guys," whispers Cooper huskily, "I don't think this is a good idea." His face is turning green like a frog.

"Why are you chickening out when we got this far? You scaredy frog," asks Andy. That's a good question. Glad he noticed that he's looking a little froggy right now.

"Can someone spot me? I don't think I can hold this box much longer," asks Cooper.

"Cooper, take notice. Remi isn't structured in the same vain as a Greek statue. Nevertheless, he still manages to hold a fire extinguisher," Apollo examines. A very flattering hypothesis.

"Yeah 'cause his right wrist is so strong!" Cooper retaliates. How did he know my secret?

Before we knew it, we were at the restroom's entrance. Sure enough, there was smoke seeping out from the door. It was at this point that we knew what had to be done.

"Alright," Andy says in a low voice, "On the count of three, we charge in with guns blazing. Got it?"

"Yessir," we all said in unison.

"Okay then. One, two, three!" Andy cries.

Andy kicks open the door and I start spraying the fire extinguisher at all the urinals and over every stall while Andy started kicking down every door. Apollo was yelling Bible verses at the top of his lungs. When they say war is hell, they're not joking.

"What the hell is going on out there?" A figure emerged from the stall farthest from the door. He had black, curly hair and was a bit chunky and covered in foam. He also had headphones on while holding his phone.

"Wait, Michael?" I asked. "What are you doing?"

"I'm just making some straight heat in the studio." he says. "This place is nice and gives me free reverb as well."

Michael is a man of sheer will and commitment. He's pretty into music production, and even after getting blasted by the extinguisher and the words of God himself, he nonchalantly wipes off the foam while nodding to whatever he made on his phone.

Suddenly, a man gets into the stall. It's Edgar.

"Yo, I just smelled some smoke and I think it's coming from inside of here," He says. "Alright, fess up, who lit the toilet paper on fire?"

We look at him and he spots something in the toilet. It was a cigarette. We all gasp as we are all innocent high schoolers who would never stoop so low as to break school rules.

"Hey," Edgar says to Michael. "Would you care to explain why this is here?"

A single tear shed from the corner of Michael's eye.

"I just...," he sniffles a bit, "My... my frog recently passed away. I was born alone on this Earth but ever since God bestowed upon me Bobby, I had someone to talk to. Since I was afraid he would be eaten or something while I was at school, I would bring him to school. Evergreen made Bobby evergreen. Now, my heart is just ever-blue."

Michael sits back down on the toilet with his hands over his face. Andy walks up to him and puts his hand on his shoulder. We're trying so hard not to cry.

"My condolences," he starts, "Everything will be alright. I'm sure in frog heaven, Bobby is touching clouds and getting nothing but frog maidens."

"Thank you for hearing me out," Michael says, "I've been dedicating my time writing heartbreak songs dedicated to my dead frog. This album will drop in like a month and everyone will know how it feels to lose something close to you. Like a frog for example."

We all took a six second moment of silence for the amount of years Bobby has lived. 

"Wanna talk about it outside?" asks Edgar.

Michael sniffs. "Sure."

We then heard a voice entering the restroom. It was just Cooper. He never went in to help with the restroom invasion.

"Yo guys, I just heard about that emotional tale about that frog. So I thought I'd come in to mourn the frog," says Cooper with watery eyes. He walks in carrying his cardboard box.

"Cooper, watch out!" Apollo exclaims.

"Uh-oh," mutters Cooper. It was too late. He stepped on the previously sprayed foam, slips, and fell on his back. He drops the cardboard box and what came out was a swarm of bees along with its hive.

"Well that's entertaining," I said. I'm about done with Cooper's tomfoolery.

"Why the hell did you bring a beehive to school!?" Andy angrily asks.

"I thought we had to take down the witch even if sacrifices need to be made," Cooper explains.

"I'll send you to the hospital if the bees don't already swarm you," says Andy. He clenches his makeshift sword with enough strength to cut his palm a little.

"In any case, we should walk serenely across this horde of bees so we don't provoke them," Apollo calmly states while pushing up his nonexistent glasses because he forgot he wears contacts.

"Like hell I would," said Edgar.

"I agree," said Michael.

I, along with Edgar, Michael, and Cooper, rushes and exits the bathroom while Andy drags Apollo out.

"Ow," says Apollo. He checks his ankle. It was a bee. A bee stung him.

"That's not good," I thought. 

"My backpack..." Apollo departs his backpack off his shoulders as his aching body exhausts to the ground. The swelling of his skin has commenced. He frantically investigates his backpack's lower front pocket. 

Cooper thinks to himself, "Hm, that's where he keeps his pens." Apollo grips Cooper's ankle.

"I have abruptly recalled a miniscule factor, what was the brand of the pen you temporarily assumed ownership of yesterday?" Apollo inquires. He's looking a little pissed off not gonna lie.

"It was an EpiPen, what about it?" Cooper asks innocently.

"I keep two in my backpack..." Apollo's grip loosens.

"The first one didn't work very well so I tried out the second one. I just like the name because it sounds like 'epic pen' (lol), but it kept making holes on the canvas. Worst of all, they both had no ink."

"Worst of all..." begins Apollo, "You don't need EpiPen's to make holes in your brain." He lies on the ground, wheezing.

"Well, this got out of hand," I said, forgetting the fact that the bathroom is filled with bees. I call 911. The ambulance eventually picked the poor soul up and carried him to the emergency room. We wait until after school to check up on him.

We went to the hospital and was escorted to the room he was resting in. He was breathing which is good because it would be such a shame to have a death of a main character by chapter one. 

Apollo turns to look outside the window and says, "I've came to realize that maybe, just maybe, I'll reminisce about this experience and laugh with joyful tears." Loud pops are heard from his hand as he cracks his knuckles.

Cooper gulps. I maybe about to see Cooper get folded like an omelet or see him get free surgery on his prefrontal cortex. Luckily, Apollo was just telling a funny jest so there won't be any bloodshed today.

As I look at everyone laughing and talking, I'd like to think that this is a friendship that's going to last a lifetime and I appreciate that, though I'm not sure about Cooper. This inner monologue is pretty convenient to have so I could smoothly wrap up this chapter without anyone interrupting me. Interesting things seem to happen each day I go to school, so I'll be looking forward to that. When I get home tonight, I'll be sure to pray for Bobby before I sleep, because he's the MVF. The end.

"Yo! Stop staring and come join us!" says Cooper.

"Ending monologues are important, you know," I explain. God dammit.