'Why…who…' the last word he breathed out was like the last air in a punctured wheel. He knew it was a challenge, a dare. But a dilemma had been set before him by this girl. If he refused her invitation to come to the Dance, he would prove himself a coward. If he accepted, still, people would think that he and Samantha were dating, and the last thing he needed was attention: the once poor orphan turned millionaire now dating the daughter of a millionaire tycoon.
He looked back at her. She was smiling, sinisterly, quite shrewdly, like they
were playing poker and she had the winning hand.
'Okay, fine,' he conceded with the wave of a hand. 'I'll be there. But if it starts to get boring, I'll…'
'You'll leave, I know; me too.'
The bell for class rang and she stood up to leave.
'And, Sam…'
'Yes..?'
'I don't want you to think this is going to go anywhere. You know that you and I could never…you know…be…'
She smiled understandingly, 'I know…I wouldn't have said it better myself.'
They both left for class.
Brendan had no idea what he had gotten himself into this time; The Dance?! It was just as Simon had said. What next?
In the last period, the Biology period, Principal Johnston came into Brendan's classroom. He seemed quite jittery, more than the usual that is. His corduroy suit barely hanging on to his tiny structure. 'I'm sorry to interrupt your lesson, Mr. Benson, but this won't take long,' he said.
Mr. Benson nodded and shifted on his chair to hear what the principal had to say.
'As you all know, there was a fight here between two unknown… "individuals". One of them was identified but the masked so-called Anonymous did not leave any evidence to be found by the police. We have no suspects but the only clue we have is that Anonymous might be a student of this school since he was wearing our school uniform. The mayor wants every single one of you to write down on a piece of paper the person you suspect is the Anonymous and bring it in.'
Samantha raised her hand up.
'Yes, Miss Patricks?'
'So you want us to somehow betray the same guy that saved us that day?
Brendan's heart leapt with joy when he heard her say this. He was glad someone did not view him as just a freak.
'This person, Miss Patricks, is not a hero but a fiend. He will be brought to justice and so will your brother.'
She quickly sat down and turned her face inside the book on her desk, probably fighting back tears from flowing from her eyes.
'So..,' the principal continued, '…write down your suspects and hand in your pieces of paper to Mr. Benson at the end of your lesson…thank you.'
Everyone did as instructed. Brendan, out of anger, wrote, "Principal Johnston", on his piece of paper and he handed it in.
When Brendan stepped out of the school grounds, he found Todd waiting for him by his other sports car; a beautiful and shiny blue four-seater and he was with Owen and Simon. Todd definitely looked uncomfortable. 'What now, guys?' Brendan asked them both.
'We want a ride, duh!' Simon said.
Brendan sighed; 'Fine…get in.'
On the way home, Brendan could not help but feel embarrassed for his two friends as they waved their arms at random people walking on the pavements and made silly noises and whistles but finally, he had to drop them off and relief flowed back into him.
When he got home, he found builders at work building his garage. He approached Mr. Drewmorphin who was in charge of the whole operation. 'Afternoon, Mr. Drewmorphin,' he greeted him.
'Afternoon, my boy!' Mr. Drewmorphin replied.
Brendan could tell he was smiling even through his great bushy beard. He was in his green overalls and in his hands was what looked like a diary.
'I just wanted to know how long this would take,' he asked him.
He brought his eyebrows together to form a frown. 'Judging from these guys' speed, in a week we will have finished the building and door and in another five days the windows will be in place.'
Brendan gave a smile and nod of appreciation and gratitude then walked up to his house. His chauffeur was behind him and he turned around and looked at him as if he was noticing his presence for the first time. 'You'll sleep here?' he asked.
'No, sir. My house is a walking distance from the Drewmorphins'. With your permission, I will take your car there.'
'I need you back here at six-thirty tonight…sharp. Bring my Bentley.'
Todd gave an obedient nod and walked out of the yard.
When he got into the house, Brendan found it completely tidy. No speck of dust could be seen anywhere.
Miriam entered into the living room from the kitchen. 'Good afternoon, Mr. Payne.'
'Good afternoon, Miriam.'
'Shall I make you lunch, sir?'
'No, I'm fine thanks. You did a marvelous job.'
She curtsied.
'That's your job: cleaning, cooking and laundry…any problem?'
She shook her head.
'Good, I'm glad we understand each other.'
Despite no evidence of signs, Brendan could not shake the feeling that someone knew he was the Anonymous. So many questions kept resurfacing in his mind. Some questions he did not have the slightest suggestions to what the answers might be and…what about Mr. Price? What kind of Phantom was he and what if he was a Demon Phantom, then what?