He was being watched. Will knew it. The tingling on the back of his neck begged him to look up and search for his stalker, but he didn't want to seem too obvious. Very carefully, he lifted his head, and lathered on a bored expression. A leisure scan of his classmates gave no indication of the scrutiny he was burning under.
    
     I'm going crazy he thought, and returned his gaze to his studies. However, the feeling never left him. In fact, it only seemed to intensify, the burn now a scolding heat.

     Closing the books in his lap, Will scanned the busy courtyard, his eyes alert, watchful: a team was playing foursquare in the middle of the enclosure. Solid, poorly painted white lines represented the boundaries. Some places were smeared where careless shoes had scuffed the handwork. Other students were either sitting and talking amongst each other, trudging across the cement prison, or texting on their cell phones.

     As much as he scrutinized, Will couldn't see the person whose gaze burnt holes into him. It was almost as if he was being stalked by a hungry lion, the predator just waiting in the grasses for it's prey to make one wrong step.

     Will sighs heavily, shaking himself and thinking he was merely loosing it, but a sudden flicker drew his attention to the darkness between two buildings. Will narrowed his eyes, his concentration focused entirely on the shadows. There, way back in the darkness, nearly a fragment of the inky blackness itself, was a silhouette. The figure was standing so still, Will nearly mistakes them for the shadowed wall, until it lifted a hand, and waved at him.

     Yup, I'm going crazy.

     "Hey! Hey nerd, I'm talking to you!" The angry voice startled Will so much, he nearly fell off of the cold concrete bench he was sitting on. He began packing his things, not in the mood to get into a fight. However, with a quick glance up and across  the humid courtyard, he realized that it wasn't him the taunt was aimed at, but a short boy with blonde hair and wire-rimmed glasses. He clung onto a huge pile of textbooks and overflowing folders, as well as a thick, navy-blue binder, cornered against the tan, moldy brick wall by an unfortunately familiar figure.

     A tall, stocky male in a black leather jacket towered over the boy, his meaty hands reaching for the worn binder the small boy so desperately hung on to.

     "What's in here Nerd? Mommy's letters? Does she remind you to clean your ears before bed? Huh? Did she send you some cookies too?" The male taunted in a nasally, mocking voice.

     Will groaned. Bruce, the school bully, was taunting the new 8th grader, Jonathan. Will had lunch with the quiet boy once, and learned that he was from Ohio. Jonathan was a good kid; straight A's, liked to read, planned to be a Marine Biologist. He wasn't very social, and claimed that books were his friends. Will respected that, since he spent most of his time reading as well.

     However, Will knew that small boys who rarely looked anyone in the eye were easy prey for bullies, and Jonathan was no exception.

    Stuffing his books in his bag, Will stood up and watched the situation, gaging whether or not he should involve himself. He had never gotten into an argument with anyone, and especially avoided Bruce. He was nothing like his sister, Will's best friend. She was kind, enthusiastic, and wanted to help everyone. What turned Bruce into a heartless jerk was beyo-

     The sound of books hitting the pavement and a grunt of surprise and pain drug Will from his thoughts and brought him to a stop. Will whipped around to see Bruce gripping Jonathan's shirt collar, pinning the helpless boy against the wall, his possessions strewn around him; The chaos after a tornado. However, that blue binder was still gripped by white fingers, a determined light shining behind the lenses of the boy's glasses.

     "I said, I want to look in your binder, nerd. Give it here!" Bruce spat, the offending mass landing on Jonathan's pale cheek.

     Jonathan said nothing, and merely looked around at the faces watching the scene, knowing that no one would be nice enough to help him. They all saw it as the highlight of their bland day, and had the cameras pointed directly at them.

     Huh, go figure, he thought grimly.

     A shadow is cast over him as Bruce let go of his shirt, and pulled back his fist, preparing to slug him hard. Bruce's face was stretched ear to ear in a triumphant smile. It disgusted him, but he wasn't going to fight back. He knew he wouldn't make it out unscathed.

     Jonathan closed his eyes, and pressed himself harder against the wall, refusing to satisfy his captor with the ocean of fear he knew reflected in his eyes. However, after a long stretch of time, nothing happened.

     "Who gave you permission to interfere, dweeb?" Bruce snarled, his voice laced with anger and disbelief. Jonathan opened his eyes to find a tall boy with short brown hair standing between him and Bruce. He recognized the guy from that time they had lunch together, Will was his name. He was a few grades higher than Bruce, but Jonathan knew that even Will's seniority wouldn't stand a chance against Bruce's strength.

     "There's no point in beating up someone for a binder, Bruce." Will says quietly, his arms out and hands fisted. "Why don't you go home and ask your mom why she doesn't write you letters, or why she doesn't make you cookies?" Will would fight if he had too, though he knew he wouldn't win, and hoped it wouldn't come to that.

     Bruce's face was a deep shade of red now, his lips scrunched into a frown of revulsion.

     "Why don't you mind your own business, dweeb?"

     Will kept his face calm, serene, his eyes locked onto Bruce's.

     "The welfare of my classmates is my business."

     Bruce stepped closer to him, his masculine face scrunched up in a way that made him look like an angry bull. Will nearly laughed at the irony--the matador facing the bull--but the humor was short-lived as Bruce lifted his fist again.

     A sudden hand on Bruce's shoulder ripped his focus off of Will. He sighed internally in relief as the burning gaze was now focused on one of the goonies who followed Bruce. The disciple was pointing a fat finger at the now-present teacher, who was watching the situation with interest.

     Bruce glared at the teacher, snorted, and pointed a heavy finger into Will's face.

     "You might be older than me, but next time, dweeb, I'll make your face best friends with my fist!" He whispered with malice. Will merely shrugged, fighting to hold in a smile.

     "I think you're too late, cause my face is already best friends with your sister." Will cocked his head while crossing his arms carelessly across his chest.

     That got him. Bruce lunged at Will with a vicious snarl, malicious intent shining through his bright green eyes. His friends grabbed his shoulders, straining to hold the struggling bull back as best as they could. Jonathan flinched against the wall behind Will, but Will didn't dare move, and glared straight into Bruce's furious eyes.

     "Listen here, dweeb," Bruce growled, "just because you're best friends with my sister doesn't mean you get any special treatment." Bruce still struggled against his minions, and in the blink of an eye, spat at Will. However, the spittle flew harmlessly past his head, and landed on the wall, doing hardly anything to relieve the bricks of the grime.

     "Well... I'd say that's a good thing either way, because apparently, your aim is something I don't have to worry about." Will smirked, but his eyes were full of silent warning. It suddenly, by some means, became crystal clear to Bruce: there was something off about this 'dweeb', and he shouldn't be provoked.

     With a sneer of thin patience and reluctant restraint, he slapped his friends away, straightened his jacket, and narrowed his eyes at Will. Dangerous or not, Bruce's pride was damaged, and he wasn't going to forget that.

     "We're not finished here." He whispers. With obvious, venomous annoyance slashing through his eyes, Will takes a daring step closer. Bruce took his own step back out of complete shock. Never had anyone so fiercely stood up to him like this dweeb was, and it terrified and infuriated him.

     "Oh, I think we are." Will mutters with fierce certainty. Something in Will's voice made Bruce think again on his plans of vengeance. The teacher was right behind him now, so he couldn't do anything anyway.

     With a low growl, Bruce did the first smart thing he had ever done before, and walked away, his buddies sniggering and following close behind.

     Will waited until the troop had turned the corner before releasing a pent-up breath of relief. What in the world was he thinking? He was just asking for a beating. Never had he ever come out of his shell like that, and faced someone as big, mean, and dangerous as Bruce. However, despite the close odds, Will felt warm and perky inside, as if he just did something to make sure difference.

     Will heard a sigh behind him, and turned to face Jonathan, whose eyes were as wide as a tennis ball.

     "T-Thanks W-Will." He stammered, which made Will chuckle.

     "That could have gone way worse, but you're very much welcome." His heart still hammered in his ears.

     "Do you mind if I ask what's actually in the binder?"

     Jonathan suddenly casts his eyes down, avoiding his gaze, and mumbled so low Will almost didn't catch his timid words.

     "Pokémon cards. I... I have an obsession."

     Jonathan expected every type of ridicule, but what he didn't expect, was the light of respect his saw in Will's eyes when he looked up again.

     "That's not something to be ashamed of. After all, Pokémon isn't heard of much anymore. It's good to know some people are keeping up the game." Will pats Jonathan's shoulder firmly.

     The boy smiled at this, and began to pick up his things. Will kneeled down and helped him. As the last of the notebooks and textbooks left the ground, Will caught sight of a strange, leather-bound book. He picked it up, and fanned through the ancient pages. It seemed to be in a strange language of sorts; odd symbols similar to those of Egyptian hieroglyphs were drawn on every sheet. One symbol in particular caught his eye; a third of the sheet was covered in the strange language, but in the middle of the two pages was a six-pointed star, drawn inside of a double ring. Strange markings unlike any he had ever seen before were written in between the spaces of the two rings. It was odd, and unfamiliar, like the rest of the book, but Will could feel a pull, almost like a calling.

     "Hey, what's this?" Will asks, marveled by the uniqueness of the novel.

     "I-it's just a hobby of mine. I've been studying d-dimensions and the theory of time portals that lead to multi-dimensional w-worlds."

     Will smirked kindly at Jonathan's nervous stuttering. Poor kid must not get much support.

     "That's cool. Like, there are worlds in different times?" He inquired, reluctantly handing the book back to his friend.

     Jonathan shrugged, more confident now that someone is interested instead of weirded out by his strange interests.

     "Uh... Sort of. This book explains the theory that in our universe, since it's so diverse, there are several dimensions spanned across the timelines from each other, those timelines being the past, present, and future. In each dimension, there could possibly be a galaxy with a solar system similar to ours with worlds supporting possible life and organic matter."

     Will squints his eyes at the outlandish, yet intriguing theory.

     "Do you really think that could be possible?"

     Jonathan shrugs again and adjusts his glasses, pushing them back into place on the bridge of his slender, lightly-freckled nose as he absently scans through the pages.

     "Like I said, I'm studying still, but I'm open to the idea."

     Will nods. "That sounds pretty fascinating, I mean, think about all the black holes and stuff. Do those planets really get destroyed? Or is a black hole really just a portal that pulls worlds into other dimensions?" Will's head is spinning with new questions and ideas. Jonathan scratches his chin in wonder, not having thought of that inquiry before.

     "It's possible... Like I said, open minded."

     With a smile, and a new friendship created, the two finished picking up the books, and parted ways. Will waved goodbye, and headed for the school. However, before Will left the courtyard, he realized that the burning on the back of his neck from earlier was gone. With sudden panic, he looked back into the shadows, but the figure that had waved at him earlier was no longer there. Will blinked and shook his head, concluding that it had all been in his overactive imagination.

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( If you enjoyed the chapter, punch that star in the bottom left corner! Yee haa, hold on, it's gonna be an adventurous ride!)