Chapter Text
Will sat in the stuffy closet of a computer lab in his latest high school. His dad couldn’t pick him up until four, and his homeroom teacher had told him he could wait in here — the library was sealed off with tape and plastic sheeting for mold or asbestos or roaches or something.
He ran through the typing tutor program for the third time and then decided he was probably safe from wandering teachers. He pulled up the chat window he’d had buried behind the typing tutor and an essay for history class.
The conversation had died, and only a few people were still hanging around. Will knew some of them were in high school — or said they were — and he wondered if anyone else was sitting in a computer lab after school waiting for a parental pick-up, maybe somewhere on the other side of the world.
hookline: who else is still at school?
alecto: I am, permanently
hookline: what did you do to get detention for eternity?
alecto: Nothing, yet. My aunt and uncle have exiled me to boarding school.
Will stared at the screen for a second. Somehow boarding school seemed more alien than Australia or China.
hookline: hmm…sounds like you did SOMETHING…
alecto: It is fair to say I have been inconvenient for them.
hookline: most kids are
Will knew his dad’s paycheck would go a lot further without him around. His dad would never say it and probably never even thought it — he knew his dad loved him — but it was just math. He couldn’t help knowing it. He tried to work when he could, but not that many places would hire him. It’d be easier next year when he turned 16 and could get his driver’s license.
hookline: a/s/l?
alecto: What?
hookline: it means age/sex/location
alecto: Oh. 16, male, Paris. And you?
hookline: 15, m, georgia. paris france??
alecto: Of course Paris, France.
hookline: there’s a paris in illinois
alecto: I’m sure there are many things in Illinois, but I am not one of them.
Will smiled at that.
hookline: lucky you. i’ve been to paris il, it’s not that great. how’s the original?
alecto: At the moment, rather dull. We’re meant to be asleep - lights out at 9 - and everyone else is.
hookline: don’t get in trouble
alecto: I never get in trouble.
Will’s homeroom teacher, Mr. Moffat, stuck his head in through the door. “Will? I just saw your dad pull up out front. Get your stuff together.”
“Sure, just let me save my essay,” Will said, typing quickly.
hookline: gtg talk tomorrow?
alecto: gtg?
hookline: got to go!!
alecto: I see. I’ll be here, yes.
Will quit everything and shut down the computer for good measure. He grabbed his backpack and walked toward the main doors. Paris, France. He thought about telling his dad that he’d talked to someone on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, but no. At least for now, he’d rather keep this to himself.