Chapter Five

Chapter Five - The Immortal

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I was In utter confusion, I couldn't fathom how my carefully crafted plan had fallen apart. Despite my efforts to be the cafeteria's first visitor and discreetly retreat to my concealed sanctuary, they managed to track me down.

"How?" I inquired flatly, growing more frustrated as my solitary mealtime was unexpectedly interrupted.

"C'mon Ambrose, we've been watch—" Ron's sentence was abruptly cut off as he got hit on the side of the head, releasing an "Ow" in response.

"That's just weird, man," the boy in glasses commented, furrowing his brows in annoyance.

"It's not that weird," Ron mumbled, kicking a rock to the side.

"Yes, it is," the cheerleader chimed in. I realized I still had no clue about the names of Ron's sidekicks, and I had no intention of finding out.

"I'm Tyler," the boy in glasses spoke out calmly.

"Oh! Oh! I'm Taylor, his lively twin sister!" the cheerleader said happily. I would have never guessed they were twins, but it doesn't matter to me because I'm not joining whatever they're trying to convince me to join.

The enthusiasm brimming within each of them was palpable, even in Glasses Boy, or rather, Tyler now, as they locked eyes with me.

"Please join our club," they harmonized in unison.

Why? Is this club on the verge of collapsing? Is that the reason they're so desperate for me to join? I surveyed each of them, offering a smile that hinted at a promise to consider their proposal.

"No," I stated firmly.

Their persistence seemed oblivious to my reputation. I've turned down every club invitation that came my way, and that's not about to change.

"Okay, WHAT IF WE TOLD YOU!! The club is a detective club!" Ron blurted out, his excitement suggesting he believed that revelation would sway my decision.

A sigh escaped my lips. Tyler appeared resigned, realizing the futility of convincing me, while Ron and Taylor maintained an undeterred optimism. There was a certain charm to it.

"Listen," I pointed at myself, emphasizing; "I don't do clubs; it's a big hassle." My gaze then shifted to Ron. "Why are you trying to be a pretend detective anyway?" I continued, locking eyes with him.

Regret lingered as I observed Ron's reaction to my question. His eyes dropped to the floor for a fleeting moment, and when he looked up again, sadness swirled in his gaze. I could sense he was fighting back tears.

Why did I always end up asking questions that brought out people's vulnerabilities? Perhaps, I should work on keeping my curiosity in check to avoid such situations. Maybe then, clubs wouldn't be so insistent on recruiting me.

"N-nothing important," Ron stammered, his eyes wavering between me and the floor. Taylor's irritation became palpable; she glared at me, as if I were a threat.

"God, I knew we shouldn't have asked him," she remarked, her lively smile replaced by a scowl. "He's some pretentious dweeb who probably wouldn't be able to help us anyway." She awkwardly embraced Ron, attempting to pull him away.

Despite Taylor's attempts, Ron's sheer size and determination prevented her from pulling him away. His gaze was fixed on her as his Southern accent returned.

"But he solved the Sarah case and helped Ken find his lost dog," he insisted, maintaining his stance. "The dog wasn't even in town; he somehow found it all the way in a different state!" Desperation filled Ron's eyes, and he seemed unwilling to let me go in peace.

"I won't budge from this spot until you agree," he declared. Taylor and Tyler sighed in unison. The reason for their sighs eluded me, but without further thought, both of them settled onto the grass.

With psychology class looming, I cast a glance at them and uttered something I'd soon regret.

"You can turn into statues for all I care; just stop bothering me."