The sound of birds singing could already be heard through the windows as they announced the dawn. I got up from my bed, watching as the sky was already taking on its characteristic light blue color.
I stood up and rubbed my eyes while I packed my things into my backpack and got dressed.
"Sam, come eat, son!" my mother Madison called from outside.
I left my room already dressed and with my backpack. But first I headed to the bathroom, which was already occupied by my stepfather, who immediately said:
"Occupied."
I simply walked away and went to the living room, then to the kitchen, where I washed my face in the sink. In the background, the television was on, announcing the news as always.
"How did you sleep today, son?"
"Good, Mom, thanks," I said as I sat down at the table and ate the bacon and scrambled eggs my mother had left on a plate, along with a glass of orange juice.
I finished my breakfast, grabbed my backpack, and left the house with my skateboard.
"Hi, Sam!"
"Good morning, Mrs. Smith!" I replied as I moved through the neighborhoods of Beavers on my skateboard, greeting the people who greeted me. Along the way, I saw a few acquaintances heading to high school.
While I was skating through the neighborhood streets on my way to school, I remembered that yes… I lived in a town called Beavers.
"Sam!"
I turned around, confused, and saw Ethan coming toward me on his bicycle, pedaling at full speed. He finally pulled up beside me and matched my pace.
"Hey, buddy, here's part of the exercises you were missing."
"Oh, thanks, man."
"I did them on a separate sheet for you."
"Really? That's cool, bro," I said.
After a moment, we finally arrived at the high school.
We entered and could already hear the classic sounds of the loudspeaker announcing that the school year was almost over and there wasn't much left.
As Ethan and I were walking, someone else joined us: Mason, who greeted us. There we were, the three of us.
"Hey, man. So, was that thing you said yesterday about the prank we supposedly pulled on you true?"
"Mmm, what was that about?" both of them asked.
I simply sighed and answered calmly:
"Well, what actually happened was… let's say I was in my room after having a problem with my stepfather and—"
"Wait," Ethan said, stopping and looking at me seriously.
"Did he hit you?" Ethan asked, blocking the way.
"What? No, it's not that kind of problem. It's just that… I don't like it when he calls me 'son.'"
"Oh, I get it," Ethan said, stepping aside along with Mason so I could continue explaining.
"What happened was that I don't like him calling me 'son.' He could never be like my father…"
"Have you considered giving him a chance?"
"Yeah, he always tries hard and he's not one of those stepfathers who yells at you."
"Hmm, that's not the issue. The issue is that… well, while I was lying in my bed in my room, out of nowhere my walkie-talkie started ringing. It was weird. Someone was requesting backup, I think, or something like that."
"That's strange, because they're second-hand."
"Unless…" Mason started.
"Don't start, Mason, please. Nobody believes in your alien or monster conspiracies," Ethan said, silencing Mason before he could launch into one of his crazy theories.
We kept walking, getting closer and closer to our classrooms, and finally entered ours. On one side, the guys were talking as usual, and on the other, the girls and a few couples.
"Gross, they're kissing," Mason said. He still had the mind of a little kid, but that didn't stop him from having his wild conspiracy ideas about the government.
Each of us sat in our seats, and after a moment, class began with the teacher walking into the room.
Tap… tap…
There was a young guy with brown hair and brown eyes, wearing a black hoodie and gray pants, sitting slightly hunched over in his chair while typing something on the computer—an old-school one from those years. As he typed some code, he ate chips from a bag next to his desk.
The young guy grabbed his walkie-talkie and spoke:
"Hi, I already found out where the signal from yesterday came from, Sam."
Buzz…
My walkie-talkie rang inside my backpack while the teacher was explaining the lesson. The sound was loud enough for everyone to notice.
"Why did you bring your walkie-talkie to school, Sam?" Ethan asked, looking at me sideways. Mason was doing the same, both of them looking somewhat worried.
"Mason, I'll answer. This is important."
Buzz…
Finally, the teacher turned around, looked at me, and said just a few words:
"Young man, would you like to explain why your backpack is talking?"
Immediately I felt everyone's eyes on me.
"Uhh… Professor, can I have permission for a moment?"
"Of course. Go ahead. Go outside and talk to your backpack, because you're interrupting my class."
I quickly went out and, in the wide hallway far from the classroom door, I answered the radio:
"Who the hell is calling someone during school hours?"
"Uhh… I forgot, sorry."
"Well, what's so important that you had to interrupt my class?"
"Oh, right. Do you remember the interruption from yesterday? Well, yeah, I heard everything. But I kept investigating and found out that it wasn't just any signal—it was a government signal. I couldn't find out exactly where it came from, but I do know it didn't only happen to you. It also happened to a few other people in Beavers."
"I see… a government signal, huh?"
"Yeah. After all, I guess Ben isn't completely crazy."
"Yeah, sure. So, should we meet tonight?"
"Everyone at the usual place?"
"Yes."
"Hey, aren't you going to give me credit for helping you too?" said the girl who had also joined the radio call.
"What?"
"Oh, yeah, that's right. Zoe helped too."
"Okay, I get it. Well, I'll let you guys go. See you tonight at the usual spot, you know where."
"Okay."
Click.
And with that, the radio call ended. I turned around to go back to class, but… the teacher was standing there calmly, staring at me.
Oh no… I was in trouble.
Tick… tick…
That was how irritating the sound of the clock in the principal's office was while the teacher went on about how I had interrupted his class, how he didn't like it, and other absurd nonsense.
I was sitting on one side in a chair, and on the other side was my mother, who was only listening to the teacher while glancing at me sideways. In front of us sat the principal, who remained motionless, also listening to the teacher.
"In conclusion, this is not the first time, so your son should be expelled."
"I don't think we need to go that far, Mr. Wayne," the principal said calmly. He was a man of about 57 years old, with a serene appearance and dressed in his director's uniform.
But the teacher continued complaining while adjusting his red tie and scratching his blond hair. The principal kept trying to calm him down.
"See what you caused?" my mother said, giving me a pinch on the leg.
I simply looked at the situation I had gotten myself into.
"Well, ma'am, the conclusion of this meeting is that your son will be suspended for one week. This is not the first time this has happened. In addition, he must keep up with the classes of the other teachers, relying on his classmates. That's all."
The principal said this calmly while continuing to deal with the teacher. Finally, my mother and I both left.
"Oh, Sam, again the same problem we've talked about. This, son?"
"Sorry, Mom."
"Of course you're sorry. How do you think I felt when they called my work number again to tell me about you and your damn radio?"
I turned to look at my backpack, where the radio was inside.
"I hope you're happy because now you've been suspended from school for a week, and the year is almost over…" she said while driving.
After an uncomfortable moment in the car, we arrived home. I got out and so did my mother. The silence was noticeable. I simply went to my room while my mom stood by the phone on the wall.
She seemed to be talking to her boss to get back to the job she had lost because she had to come to school. From my room, Eric appeared beside me with a tray of cookies and said:
"Hey, Sam, want one? They always brighten the day," Eric said as he ate one.
"Weren't you at work?"
"Well, let's say I got off early today, and it looks like your mother is irritated."
"No way she's happy," I said sarcastically as I closed the door in Eric's face, causing a few cookies to fall by accident.
Something that Sam's mother clearly saw. She simply sighed, hung up the phone, and then approached Eric to help him pick up the fallen cookies.
"Hey… don't get mad, he's just a—"
"Teenager… yes, I understand perfectly, honey. I'm not angry, just a little discouraged. I try everything, but nothing seems to work…"
"Hey, don't think like that. Stay calm. I'll go talk to him now."
"Please don't be too hard on him."
"Of course I won't. I'll just tell him it's okay and that… I know you worry a lot about him."
"Okay, thanks," Eric said as he walked away with the tray of cookies toward the living room sofa to watch television.