The next morning found police sirens wailing through the streets. Brendan had not slept at all the previous night. He got up and went to the bathroom to take a shower. When he was done, he got dressed and went downstairs.
As soon as he opened the refrigerator, the doorbell rang. He wondered who it could be at nine o'clock in the morning. When he opened the door, he found Simon and Owen.
'Brendan, my friend..,' Simon began, 'why didn't you tell us you were rich?' He walked in with a triumphant step, his eyes immediately becoming entranced by the new interior of the house. Owen was close behind him.
'Good morning to you too..,' Brendan said before he shut the door.
'Do you have any clue what happened last night?' Simon asked him as he and Owen entered the kitchen with Brendan following closely behind them.
'No…what?' he asked sounding unconcerned.
'The Finch escaped!' Owen picked up the conversation.
'She did?'
'You always are the last to find out about this kind of stuff, Brendan you know that?' Simon said pouting.
'Well, maybe that's because it's not of much importance to me.'
'This involves magic..,' Simon argued, 'anything that involves magic is important.'
'So, how did she escape?'
'Well..,' Owen interjected, 'the police officer in charge found the bars on the cell door bent so far wide that a pregnant cow could walk through easily.'
Brendan walked back to the refrigerator and opened it and took out a box of cereal and a carton of milk.
'Anyway, I'm sticking to my theory,' Simon said as he sat down with Owen by the kitchen table.
'What theory?' Brendan asked him looking and sounding amused.
'Anonymous freed her. Come on, isn't it a little too obvious? The police estimated the Anonymous' age at nineteen to twenty-four years old. He definitely has feelings for the Finch.'
Brendan burst into laughter, 'How can a hero fall in love with a witch? That defies the law of fairytales,' he continued to laugh.
'Is that what you call him?' Owen asked Brendan. 'The guy shows up from nowhere, trashes our school, probably sets free the most wanted and dangerous criminal of this city and you call him a hero?'
Brendan placed three bowls on the table and began pouring in the milk and cereal, 'The guy beat up a giant monster and…'
'Who turned out to be Angus,' Simon interrupted him.
'How was he supposed to know?' Brendan asked.
'He knew..,' Simon continued, 'these freaks know each other very well.'
Brendan placed spoons in the bowls and slid them over to both of them and he too sat down and began to have breakfast.
'Why are you fighting for this guy anyway?' Owen asked him suspiciously.
'Because I don't like judging a book before I at least skim through its pages, that's all.'
'Is that what you're doing with Samantha, then?' Simon asked him sounding furious.
'What I'm doing with Samantha is different. Besides…we're friends now.'
Simon was now choking on his cereal. He could not speak.
Owen stood up and pulled him from his chair and started tugging on Simon's belly, trying to revive him, and eventually, he did.
Simon wiped his mouth vigorously with the back of his hand. 'Are you mad!' He shouted finally, a burning glare directed towards Brendan.
'No. I've given it enough thought and I've finally decided to forgive her; yesterday at her house after dinner.'
Simon's eyes widened in dismay and his mouth in shock, 'What spells has the witch been casting upon you? What next; you're gonna take her to the School Dance tomorrow? Or maybe she's going to take over my place as your best friend?'
'Now you're just being paranoid. You know she could never take your place as my best buddy, and as for the School Dance, I'm not going to that crazy Function, I never do.'
The School Dance was a school Function held at Bradwield High School once a year. It was not compulsory but most people who attended it were those involved in relationships.
'Anyway..,' Brendan resumed, 'what are you guys going to be doing tomorrow?'
'Well..,' Owen scratched his head, 'I asked Natasha out and she said yes.'
'Natasha Andrews… "The vomit girl"?!' Simon shouted half laughing.
'I don't care what she did,' said Owen with a defensive shrug. 'I think she's okay.'
'Be careful not to come back from the Dance with vomit as your new cologne,' Simon chuckled.
'Or cud as your new snack,' Brendan added and he and Simon burst into a roar of laughter.
Owen did not smile; he did not find these jokes funny at all. 'Speaking of which, who is your date for the Dance, Simon? Patricia? Or should I say, "Hello! If you want to meet with electricity, my braces would be the perfect brokers because they're lightning conductors"!'
'I'm not going to the School Dance. My mom's coming back from the rehabilitation center this afternoon so I'm spending time with her.'
'In other words; you couldn't find a date,' Owen mocked him.
'You think I value this stupid thing over family? You're insane.'
They continued with breakfast.
'You didn't tell me Howard was a rich dude, Brendan,' Simon said his eyes moving around the kitchen.
'I didn't know neither till I read one of the notes he left in the safe. Not the suicide one.'