When he got into the house, he headed straight for his room and threw himself on the bed and began sobbing softly into his pillow. Tears of rage.
He kept replaying the whole fight; how he had tried to fight back to no avail. Did Samantha talk to him just to keep him seated until Thomas arrived? Had they been working together all along? Samantha did have an unpredictable character. And to think he had almost forgiven her! Or maybe the nickname he had picked for her had no effect on her at all?
He removed his face from the pillow and stared at the cupboard beside his bed, the same cupboard that had the purple liquid. The Oxygen potion, Howard had called it. His eyes had become red from crying. He reached over and opened the cupboard and took out the glass container. He remembered Howard's words; "Do not take more than the smallest of sips". Brendan did not even believe Howard's words, that this liquid could make one superhuman.
Without thinking, he opened the container and gulped down all its contents down to the last drop. The liquid was as thick as it looked. It tasted more like vinegar mingled with hot sauce.
He waited for some kind of reaction. He stood up and punched the wall but yielded nothing besides a twisted wrist and intense pain. He cursed and threw the empty container to the far end of the room.
'Old age must have driven you insane, Howard!' He took off his shoes and threw himself onto the bed and fell asleep.
*
Brendan was glad the next day was a weekend. When he raised his head from the pillow, the first thing he did was stare at the floor, the same spot he had thrown the empty container. He had been hoping what had happened the previous day had been just a dream or honestly, a nightmare.
He sat up and rubbed his head then went to look in the mirror. There was no change in his body at all. His bruises and scars were clearly visible. He remembered what he had planned to show Simon in the forest but could he even face him?
He took out a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt from his wardrobe, got dressed and headed downstairs to see what he could eat for breakfast.
When he opened the freezer he only found fruits, a box of cereal and a half empty bottle of milk. He sat down by the wooden kitchen table after having emptied the freezer. He attempted to devour everything but chewing and swallowing was made difficult by the pain in his jaw and the lump of aftermath humiliation of the fight clogging his throat. In anger, he swung his arm, throwing everything onto the floor and then he stood up and went outside.
He sat by the doorstep trying to think of words to say to Simon, but he finally decided to back out on their plan. He stood up and returned into the house.
* *
The weekend ended and he had to go back to school. Unfortunately, his bruises were still clear, lined across his face like mud smears. He decided to leave for school as early as possible because the thought of staring into the faces of people after what he had experienced on Friday was beyond degrading.
He left the house before six o'clock, dragging his feet to school, wishing his journey would not end.
He eventually arrived and found Simon by the gate, alone, as if he had been waiting for him.
There was no discernable expression on his face.
'Hi,' Brendan muttered.
'Hi,' he muttered back. They both stood silent for at least two minutes, their gazes on the ground. Simon caught a brief glance of his face and saw the scars and black eye. 'You coming?' he asked him referring to the school.
'Yeah, let's uhm…go,' he stuttered, still avoiding direct eye contact with Simon.
They both walked slowly through the corridor not uttering a single word to each other. All classroom doors were locked so they stood by Brendan's door.
'Samantha did it,' Brendan finally broke their moment of silence.
'Samantha did what?' Simon asked him.
'She kept me occupied while Thomas made his way towards me.'
'I wondered what she wanted from you! She was buying him time! But I did tell you that we can't trust that devil.'
Time passed and people started flooding in. Everyone's attention was on Brendan. One would take one look at him and whisper to the people they were walking with.
Mr. Sparrow finally came with the keys to the classroom. 'Brendan; I heard about what happened,' he said. 'I'll make sure that he gets suspended or even expelled.'
'No; please, sir, it's okay. I can handle him.'
'No! This boy is a menace and I think this school would be better-off without him.'
'Sir, I'm sure I can handle him.'
Mr. Sparrow sighed in both defeat and disapproval. 'Not by violence I hope?'
'No, sir.'
'Good.'
Simon had already left for his classroom. As soon as the door was unlocked, students began swarming in.
Both Thomas and Angus had the same expressions on their faces; hideous satisfaction!