AB Chapter 16: Blocked
Saturday, 10:00 AM
The academy, silent after days of heavy snow, was finally bustling again—especially at the school gates.
Young students who hadn’t seen each other in a while had already made plans on their phones to meet up here. Wrapped in thick clothing with only their faces exposed, they gathered, smiling, and once the last of their group arrived, they huddled together, exhaling puffs of white mist and gossiping about the latest news.
Leaning against snow-free walls, they chatted animatedly about sports, girls, and where to party all night once their boring classes ended.
The girls weren’t quite as excited. They grouped up in twos or threes, linking arms, occasionally checking their watches or scrolling through their phones. If they found a cute picture or something interesting, they’d turn to share it with their friends.
Some people were alone. Maybe they just had class today and no one to sign in for them. Maybe they weren’t fully awake yet. Clutching their books, they stood in the freezing weather, scrolling on their phones with sleepy, blank eyes and messy hair—fingers swiping aimlessly over smooth screens.
Their gazes were unfocused.
If they hadn’t all been gathered at the school gates, this would’ve looked like any normal morning at any campus. So ordinary no one would give it a second glance.
But today, this crowd of bored and energetic students—already on campus but refusing to go to class, instead lingering at the gate and constantly checking the time while watching a certain direction—seemed a bit strange.
If the security guards hadn’t already known what was going on, they might’ve thought something had happened.
[School Forum]
A: “Seriously, no one’s coming. Are you sure? That Michel guy really has class today? Ugh, I’m not wasting my time on this crap. I’m going to class. You idiots keep waiting :)”
M: “He’ll come. I know his class schedule. If he skips again, he’s gonna flunk. You leave if you want—I’m staying. I want to see what that alien plant-species guy from whatever planet looks like. I’m totally posting pics to the photo wall and Twitter.”
H: “Tch. That planet’s called Pepega or something. Didn’t NYPD post that on their website? I heard their plant-type species grow flowers on their heads. Ugh. Can’t imagine.”
A: “Flowers on the head? Hahaha. A flower-headed human? Now I’m curious. I’ll stay.”
M: “No one cares if you stay, bitch. But hey, I am curious—this dude hot or not?”
C: “Not bad. But if you like muscles, skip it. Not your type. I’m his classmate. Hmm... kinda pale, quiet, Asian features. Heard Eric even tried to hit on him.”
H: “…”
M: “…”
G: “...Oh my God.”
A: “ERIC?! Eric Ellis?! (Also, M, don’t think I don’t know who you are. If you keep replying to me, I’ll tear you apart! middle finger JPG)”
C: “Yup, the very same Eric Ellis. I even saw him cornering Michel once.”
G: “Isn’t that ‘cause he always picks fights? He hates everyone.”
H: “Co-signed.”
M: “Also co-signed—and LOL A, what now? eyeroll.jpg”
C: “Nope! I overheard them. Eric confessed to him. Michel probably didn’t even get what was happening. Anyway, he turned him down. He said—”
A: “Said what?!”
N: “Don’t leave us hanging! Just imagining Eric crushing on the species he hates the most—PFFHAHAHA, karma!”
M: “Comedy gold!”
H: “LMAO.”
V: “HAHAHAHA—”
C: “Hehe. Since y’all like the drama, follow my account after I spill. If anyone wants Michel’s personal stuff, DM me—I used to room with him.”
A: “Deal!”
H: “OK!”
V: “ohhhhh—”
Z: “Heh. Not only will I follow you, anonymous C—I’ll also snap your neck and shove it up your **.”
Z: “Don’t let me find you, bitch!”
C: “…”
H: “…”
M: “…”
G: “...Uh. That ID... might be Eric Ellis.”
Z: “Damn it! F***! I’ll (bleep—) you! I (bleep—) your (bleep—)!!!”
[Notification: Due to violating forum rules, anonymous user Z has been muted for one day.]
C: “…”
H: “…”
M: “...Ahem. Yep. That tone? Definitely Eric.”
Known as the infamous lunatic of the academy, no one wanted to mess with Eric Ellis. The lively forum went dead silent.
Students who had been reading the drama on their phones quickly backed out, mentally offering a prayer for poor anonymous C.
Getting on Eric’s bad side meant certain doom.
Tch. Eric was terrifying.
Meanwhile, seeing the system message that he’d been muted, Eric Ellis—handsome and youthful—wore a shadowy, cold expression. His hand clenched his phone so tightly the veins on his hand bulged. His breathing turned rough, and rage flushed up his neck.
“Smack!”
His black phone smashed to the ground, shattering on impact!
Several people nearby jumped and turned in annoyance, only to see who it was—and instantly turned their heads back, swallowing their complaints. Quietly, they pulled their friends further away.
Eric’s lackeys, seeing his sudden outburst, knew better than to say anything. Their eyes darted nervously.
“I’m going to kill him—!”
Eric growled under his breath in fury.
But whether he meant Michel, or anonymous C, no one could say.
At the same time, a common red pickup truck—typical in the US—quietly crept along with the incoming school traffic, hoping to slip by the "danger zone" unnoticed.
Reality hit fast and hard.
“Hey! Look! It’s that truck!”
One student at the gate shouted, raising their phone.
“Matches the one online... That’s the alien guy’s friend’s truck. He’s definitely in it!”
“Oh my god—we finally caught him.”
“Come on, darling, let’s go see the alien hiding in our school!”
“Heather! Stop chatting! Take my picture—I need to blog this—”
In seconds, the burly, rugged, well-priced and all-purpose red pickup was surrounded, cut off like a wolf among sheep.
The overwhelming crowd forced it to stop, frozen awkwardly in place.
Inside the truck:
Benny gripped the steering wheel tightly. Though the heater was blasting, cold sweat still formed on his forehead. He blinked, staring at the excited students flashing cameras at them, even climbing onto the hood for pictures.
He took a deep breath and muttered:
“Michel... I don’t feel like I’m at a school gate anymore. I feel like I’m on a street in the UK. Maybe I’m a prince. With a queen mother. And scandalous girlfriends. And fans who want to know the color of my underwear.”
In the back seat, crammed with Simon:
Michel: “...Bro, wake up. It’s daytime.”
[Author's Note]:
Next Chapter Highlight: 911 is the emergency number in the U.S.
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