More than three years had passed since the Connor incident and Luke’s first act of aggression. Well, maybe he did act like this before, but this was my first time noticing him like that. As it would be expected, more things than three had happened during that time.

Just in the rest of 2019 and 2020 alone, my friendship with Luke only increased as time went forward; the UK left the EU; there was this whole pandemic thing with very little social interaction from the outside world; I passed the entrance exams and I got accepted into a good high school and Luke turned out to be my future desk mate, which only further strengthened our friendship, so it was almost like we’d known each other for a lifetime; my new classmates were nowhere near as mean or brutal, especially since none of them were from my former school, and so on. 2020 was like a paradise, but only at home.

2021 was personally a bad year, for a myriad of reasons, including rejection and isolation, and there was a lot of both. Let’s not forget getting hit in the head twice, once by a door accident and once by drinking too many energy drinks, coming from someone. Fascinating, right? Even Luke was being passive-aggressive and even worse during that one energy drink moment, and yet I still forgave him. When it comes to being one of the few friends that I still get to see face-to-face, there does not seem to be a choice. My new classmates were not far from my former ones, and they were especially mean towards the end of the year, and that ended up being a big deal.

In all fairness, it wasn’t a good year for a lot of people either. The pandemic saw a resurgence in many places around the world, the United States Capitol was invaded, Flash shut down, Afghanistan fell to the Taliban, more celebrities died, and this is just scratching the surface. You can think of just about anything bad and chances are that it happened that year. It was just that cursed.

I’m aware that there have been worse years in global history, especially the year 536 CE, the year when an awful volcanic eruption occurred in Iceland. It blocked out sunlight for 18 months in all of Europe, the Middle East and other parts of Asia, and it decreased summer temperatures by anywhere between 1.5 and 2.5 degrees Celsius. These changes ruined crops and made millions of people die of starvation, and as if it wasn’t cruel enough, these conditions were ideal for the first actually infamous plague in history, the Justinian plague, leading to tens of millions more dying. It really was a bad year, and in comparison, 2021 wasn’t so bad.

Going back to our lives, 2022 started off just as well as 2021 ended, or rather not, but it did get my classmates and even Luke himself to finally accept my flaws, who I was, and, most of all, who I would be from that point. That was not the biggest problem, it was the aftermath depression of being completely rejected the year before, not to mention my thoughts going deeper into the years before and how bad I thought they had been, even if they were not that bad legitimately.

The only reason why I skip these events and I’m venturing quickly close to the present is because there was really nothing to write home about for the following three years. Life went on as usual, and the biggest change that occurred up until the latter half of the year was the pandemic slowing down and shrinking. That’s some good news, but it’s good news for everyone, it’s not something subjective, and not much more happened. Even in the third quarter of the year, not a whole lot has happened. I only went to Blackpool in early July and had some fun time there, and I celebrated Luke’s birthday on the 18^th, and that was all. I mean, yeah, such moments are enough to define a whole year for certain folks, those who just aren’t adventurous. I’m not far from that kind of people, but I was just not satisfied enough.

That was going to change in September. A new school year started, and Luke was, for the third year in a row, my desk mate. Since the pandemic was no longer an issue, cultural projects that were put on hold, which used to happen as a school tradition pre-2020, could finally be initiated again, which is what made my current headteacher, Mrs. Foster, that much happier. In fact, on the second day of school during our first history class, rather than starting our first history lesson of the year, she announced the start of an international cultural project that involved our high school and a high school on the other side of the British Isles, that being in the city of Dublin, Ireland.

The very moment I heard Dublin, I got ecstatic. I had been to Dublin only once so far, and that was over four years prior! Being able to go there again and meeting potentially wonderful Irish people was something I had been dreaming of since leaving the place, and it’s no surprise as to why that is: I had wonderful memories visiting St. Patrick’s Cathedral and seemingly heaping universities. While I wasn’t able to interact with the locals, they seemed very friendly and, dare I say it, charming. It would be absolutely stupid of me to refuse this opportunity, and my family wouldn’t be against it either whatsoever.

Also, to my surprise, Luke did not have the same chance. He did go to other countries in Europe, such as Stockholm in Sweden, Rotterdam in the Netherlands, and even places as far away from the UK as Timisoara in Romania, so it isn’t to say that he had never travelled before. It’s just that he hadn’t been at all to Ireland. He went to Northern Ireland instead, but that’s a different story, since he was still in the UK, politically speaking. Seeing me being so excited to participate, he wanted to join along, and he also opted for participation. That was already two people out of thirty within seconds.

Be that as it may, most of my other classmates weren’t as impressed or excited. Some outright exclaimed that they just don’t want to join the project, or they simply can’t. Sure, we may have to go there eventually and be their guests, but the headteacher said that we’ll be the hosts this time. Not that it mattered to me all that much, since all the good things come at the cost of patience. With that said, less than half of the class wanted to be in the project, although it was approaching half, so it wasn’t all that bad. Of course, this was only the first step of something much bigger that would change my life entirely.

Well, it did change my life a bit. The Queen died on the 8^th. Oh well, my condolences, she was a great person. That meant that school was closed for the 9^th, and communication could only be done through messaging for the next few days, before we went back to school.

Of course, since this is not your usual cultural project, tons of plans had to be arranged and finished before the day they’d arrive, such as finance. There was a lot of discussion around this boring subject, even within the first few days of school, and our parents were informed on the 15^th regarding this. The budget to sustain everyone for the two days they were on visit was originally higher. I don’t remember the exact numbers for that, but they were approaching an insane 500 pounds, or 570 euros, each. It was stupidly high and the ones involved in the project advocated lower costs, and this topic was opened up on the 16^th, during our headteacher’s class.

Perhaps the cleverest of the cuts was having them sleep at our homes instead of having them sleep at the hotel, and that came from our class chief, Ava Marshall, who is a wonderful classmate, not just because she’s friendly, but also because she’s good at parachuting. It sounded crazy for some at first, and some of the people in the project did not have enough room to accommodate even one person at home, so whoever had enough room had to keep two guests instead, at the cost of the non-hosts being financial supporters.

The suggestion at first sight was already pretty good to begin with, as we didn’t have to pay for the hotel, and it was a better solution on the social side, since it can grow emotional attachments and start deeper friendships, but this also reduced the cost of meals. All that was left to pay for in terms of food was lunch on that Friday and Saturday, and that was all. Dinner and breakfast were cut because those could just be served at home. In the end, this reduced the budget drastically to something much closer to 170 pounds, or 195 euros. This was more affordable and reasonable for practically everyone.

Whoever had to host those people, however, became an entirely separate issue. Of course, we got rid of the easiest option first: the teachers would sleep at Mrs. Foster’s house, since there was really no other choice, while two other teachers, Mr. Spencer and Mrs. Rogers, participate in the project too, so it feels like someone will throw a party without knowing it, heh. This made perfect sense, since she told us from time to time that her house was huge.

Everyone else? Well, tough luck. Our teacher and some of the girls, including Ava, proposed an idea so that we had to host people that had the same gender or sex, and it was how we got to know these people at first glance. In theory, that wouldn’t be a bad idea at all, but it’s not just that our class is dominated by girls, with only 8 out of 30 people in our class being male, but only four are involved in the project in one way or another, and two could not host. The majority of those involved? Still female.

Before we get to what makes this matter even more shocking, the original list of the Irish students involved only had two boys enlisted, meaning that Luke and I could have hosted both and the case would have been solved immediately, or at least have one of us host both, since neither of us has the problem with space, comfort, privacy, or really anything that is about housing. The second variant was initially decided in late September, when planning started. However, just before we could proceed with giving away the money needed for the project in mid-October, one of the boys and a girl from the other side retreated, and five boys took their place. Heavens…

That meant that two British boys had to host six Irishmen as their guests, and two of them are twins, and the twins had to go to one person no matter what. This was strenuous. As much as I’d be fine hosting all six, having five people paying for house needs would have made me way too greedy, and they would have still had to deal with the other hosts financially, so the limit was set so we could host only two people at most, which was fair for everyone. So, in order to settle the male part of the deal, we went with possibly the worst idea ever: randomize the picks. The twins were assigned the same number twice which never went separate, and the other four had different numbers.

By random, the twins were chosen to go to Luke, while I had two other boys, one who just so happened to be born only three weeks before me, and he is the oldest person in the group, since all others were born in ‘06. There were two left, and they were the exceptions to the gender rule, as their seriousness and status of being deputy class chief and cashier respectively on their side had to go to none other than Ava herself. Terrific. I feel like this was the most one-sided thing we’ve had thus far.

Some of the girls couldn’t host either, some could only host one person and the rest had to host two. The choices didn’t matter as much in their case, since the number of participants on the other side was about the same, but it just shows that gender exclusivity was pointless.

With all of that done, there was only one part left of the project that was of utmost importance: should we spend some time with them at night at home, or in the city, showing them the nightlife? After all, this was the part where teachers had no control, so with no way of making this part of the process dull, it was up to us. That was decided in the early stages of planification, but the exact location of where we’d all meet had not yet been decided, but we’ll get to that later. Other than that part, the whole entire plan was finished on the 19^th, leaving us with two days of advanced thoughts and first impressions. Yes, they’ll come on the 21^st, so these two days prove to be superbly precious. Thank goodness…

On that Wednesday, due to all of the complications regarding the project, I decided to spend some time outside after school rather than going straight home, and the best place for that was a cafeteria called “Harmony Cafe” that was less than 200 meters away from my high school. It seems like Mr. Parker, erm, Luke, sorry, got exhausted as well and wanted to join the outing, so I accepted.

After school, we went to the cafeteria. Only after we got our table, we were finally able to throw out our frustrations regarding the project, and Luke was the one to break the ice.

“Gosh, mate, that was horrible…”

“Yeah, lad, I agree. I know I shouldn’t lose the plot, especially since it’s about Ireland of all places, but the whole planification was just…ugh!”, I exclaimed.

“I especially believe that guest distribution was pants!”

“Bloke, that was pants!”, and this is myself going bonkers at this point. “Foster told us to respect gender exclusivity, but I knew that it was not going to happen, and you knew it too! Only four boys involved in the project, and we were the only ones ready to host, and instead of getting those two bevs, Ava got them, and I have…the most boring options. That was bollocks! I get that Fisher couldn’t get anyone in his place since he already lives in a small apartment, but what was Howard’s excuse? A party for his cousin?! Get the bloody hell out of here…”

“Eh, you’re not the only one with problems, Pete. I’m not too chuffed with the twins, either.”

“Not to be disrespectful or start a kerfuffle, but…”, said myself before being interrupted by Luke.

“Like an Aussie?”

“Luke, what does the Aussie thing have to do with this?”

“Well, you went bonkers…”

“Yeah, that’s true, but not all Aussies get this angry, and much less all the time. That’s merely a stereotype that you should honestly not believe.”

“Right…go on.”

“So, what I wanted to say is that the twins had to go to someone anyway. They could not be split. You’re a lucky sod, anyway…”

“So why didn’t they go to you?”

“I have no idea, ask the girls! Ask the headteacher! I did not come with the idea of giving people away willy-nilly, that was really a brave idea in my opinion!”

“Innit.”, Luke agreed.

“Yeah, whatever. The good thing is that we did cut that budget a lot. 500 pounds? That’s just gobsmacking! 170? Now that’s more like it.”

“How did Foster even get to that sum of 500 pounds anyway?”

“Good question. Proper expensive…”

Right after I said that, a waitress arrived, giving us the menu.

“Thank you, madam.”, said myself in an unusually calm tone, all of a sudden.

“You’re welcome. Do you want a bottle of water?”, the waitress asked.

“Sure.”, said both of us simultaneously.

The waitress went for a brief moment to get us both a bottle each. After that, we were looking at our menu and decided our orders, short and simple: two chicken teriyaki sandwiches and two cups of decaffeinated coffee. Thereafter, we minded our own businesses and continued the talk.

“Right, where were we?” asked Luke.

“At the budget.”

“So how did she get to that sum of 500?”

“She probably thought we’d have an all-you-can-eat buffet for all four times we’d all eat, including them, plus the hotel room and the tickets for wherever we have to go. She may call us stingy prats for this, but I believe we’re just good at finding ways to save money. The difference between 500 and 170 is huge. Do consider that they’ll be the ones paying for us when round 2 begins.”

“And how much would we pay at that time?”

“It’s going to be 150 pounds at best for a ticket, probably less because the pandemic is no longer around and flights started getting cheaper again, with some money for ourselves in case we’ll do the nightlife thing there as well. Our bigger problem will be the power of attorney.”

“Do you speculate when round 2 may start?”

“We might be there in March, on the 24^th.”

“That’s a pretty cheeky date. Why so late?”

“I don’t think it’ll be on the 17^th because that is St. Patrick’s Day, and it’s their day off. Naturally, they’d keep the date proximity by having it at least a week later. In practice, they could just do whatever. It still falls on a Friday, anyway.”

“Foster said something about April or May.”

“That sounds unreasonably late, and it’s not even the final date for us. If you think about it…if it happens in May, it may as well happen on my birthday. There’s no bloody way I’ll have a project trip to Dublin on my birthday, as much as I want that to happen.”

“Fair.”

The talk got pretty boring past that point, and less significant as it went on. Sooner or later, moving on was the only option left, because the entire planification and how the process underwent were over before long. We ate our sandwiches and paid for our orders, and then we went home.

All we had left to do was waiting for the great day: October 21st, 2022. I know, saying these dates as if I was an American and not a Brit makes it all less genuine, but everyone grew up with me saying them like that. I didn’t get bullied just because of Americanisation…yes, the word exists.

Leaving that out of the way, the respective day was, by coincidence, the last day before the first term was over, thanks to our autumn vacation. So, after all, it does deserve being called the Great Day.

The date that was right in-between, the 20^th, was the next day. It wasn’t eventful, aside from Mr. Spencer, our literature teacher, showing his excitement for the event, giving us nothing to do for that day and the day after. We did have to look for our guests’ social media pages so that we’d be able to communicate with them in the near future or form another impression so we can get an idea of how they look like or how they act once they arrive here.

However, it was only on my way home that I realized something else that was strange. Luke was absent that day. Weird. Did he get food poisoning or did the coffee do something to him? After all, the weather wasn’t bad for a day of October. Surely it can’t be because of that…well, it may be that flu season, but this seems incredibly risky when you have a meeting that is just two days away. Perhaps something else happened...

The evening of the 20^th was more exciting than the day. On our Instagram DM group, we talked about how we expected things to go, hoping that it’d be a wonderful experience. We also had a group call, and it was a wild one.

“Woah, Peter, you didn’t tell me you were at the cafeteria yesterday.”, said Amira with jealousy. Amira is one of the girls involved in the project. She can get pretty cocky, and her grades sort of reflect that.

“Oh, but I wasn’t alone.”, said myself

“That’s worse! Don’t tell me you were with another girl!”

“No, I wasn’t. I was with Luke.”

“I don’t believe you, you sod.”

“Ah, come on, Amira, are you really going to interrogate me just because? We’re not even together…”

“We were together.”

“Yeah, but then you ditched me because I didn’t care about your physical traits.”

“That’s not a wrong attitude.”, said Christine, who was defending me this time around. “After all, he had no obligation to do so, and it shows that he cares more about feelings and being fair in life.”

“Don’t shove your nose where it doesn’t belong, Chris.” exclaimed Ivy, who got close to Ava, to the point where she is the deputy class chief. “It’s their problem.”

“Says who?”, said Christine with a chuckle.

“Whatever, bird…”, said Ivy with envy.

“Oh my gosh, why are you guys in a group call?”, asked Ava.

“Why not?”, so I said. “Although I wanted to talk about the affairs with the Irish first, not about problems from over a year ago.”

“Well, we’ve already discussed everything at school, why bring the matters here?”, Ava asked again.

“It makes sense. Tomorrow is the day of hype,” said Christine.

“Right, but who else cares besides him?”, Ivy asked.

“Well…Luke?”, I said, with uncertainty.

“Speaking of him, where is Luke? What’s up?”, Christine asked.

Hm, indeed, where’s Luke? Normally, he’d be in the group call from the very minute it starts till the end, only that he is not in it this time around. It’s very unusual. Then again, I do have to remember that he does get aggressive from time to time, but not this much. I couldn’t just say something stupid or say that he is busy, because I cannot tell.

“I have no idea. I’ve not talked to him since Wednesday evening.”, I said.

“Well, he’s your friend and desk mate, you should know better.”, said Ivy.

“He didn’t say a word or send a message at all after we left the cafeteria. At most, we only greeted each other and that was it. You can’t say that was communication.”

“Weird,” said Ava. “I mean, who knows, maybe he has something else to do. Maybe he has a cuppa.”

“Tea is only for five in the afternoon. It’s already half past nine.”, said Christine.

"Who are you to say that?”, asked Ava.

“Someone who is just as important to this class as you are,” Christine answered in a brave way.

“Hey, guys, are you alright?”, asked Alice as soon as she entered the call.

“We were just talking about Luke. Again, not sure if it has something to do with the Irish affairs,” I said.

“It’ll be fine, Pete. Just treat it as a school day like any other, and then you get to have some fun after school!”, exclaimed Alice with excitement.

“You’re right. Anyway, sorry for the call,” I said.

“No, it’s fine. Any kind of discussion is welcome,” said Christine. “Anyway, see you tomorrow!”

“See you.”

The group call ended. By the time everyone went to sleep, there had already been some photo teasers of the Irishmen’s baggage on their Instastory, ready for departure. Of course, that wouldn’t happen until Friday morning, as known as the Great Day.

I went to sleep close to midnight and things really got strange.

Isn’t it weird to have a dream that is exactly the same as another one from the past? After all, recurring dreams aren’t all that common. Some people may call it déjà vu. However, while the term translates to “already seen” from French, it’s a phenomenon of feeling as if you have already lived through the present situation.

It may seem like this has no connection to the sleep I’d have tonight, but I inexplicably had the same nightmare from over three years ago, and I thought I would not have it again, with Luke being as mean as he was the first time. The shoulder hit, the basement, the whip and the lighter, everything went exactly like the first time. Even the twins that were carrying me to that basement were identical. The weirdest part of this already strangely repeating dream is that it didn’t happen after the May 2019 incident, and it didn’t happen either last night, when Luke was showing some clear aggression, so, of course, I woke up in a state of panic, again. What gives this time?

Perhaps its second appearance only means I should shrug it off and call it a coincidence, and it’s understandable. Again, it was all just a nightmare, but, like before, it felt way too close to a foresight, and it seems to be the case more and more as time goes on, so I really can’t exclude the possibility that Luke is the root of the problem.

In all seriousness, though, what happened to Luke?

Regardless, this time it took me far longer to fall asleep. The nightmare made its second coming in the middle of the night again, and right after I woke up, I checked my phone to see what time it was. It was 1:23am, so we were on the 21^st.

I was in a different kind of shock when seeing that date, and I could not believe it, and this shock had me up for at least another hour instead of just a few minutes, but it felt like the longest hour I’ve ever had, and it was one filled with nothing but silence that was interrupted only by floor and door creaking, with a sight of a shadow that slowly changed form. However, that terrifying hour met its end in a full blow, with the window closing itself from the wind. I closed the rail for good. At last, I managed to fall back asleep. Well, isn’t that a cracking good start?

Nevertheless, I slept for another four and a half hours, before the alarm began ringing at 7:00am, with a sample from a popular song called Mama Yette. If there’s anything that cannot go wrong at all, it’s listening to electronic dance music in the morning or at night, particularly what comes out of Romania. The early 2010s were fun.

Normally, I’d be in shock waking up so late. I mean, I’ve already been shocked twice in a single night, so it’s no longer a surprise. It’s Friday, however, and the schedule starts at 9:00am instead of the usual 8:00am, so at least I have some time to refresh. Phew.

Breakfast was unusually good. My mother thought it was a great idea to give me a plate of fake fried eggs and chips. They were really just some yoghurt, apricot, and apples sliced like chips, but I preferred it this way over the real meal.

After breakfast, I had enough time to get a cup of coffee. Yes, coffee, not tea. Being British, it is expected that I’d drink tea quite often, as pointed out by some mates on the Internet, and while it is true that tea is still more popular than coffee in the United Kingdom, drinking coffee in the morning was no exception. To me, though, it was a relatively new habit, from the days when I went to Blackpool. It does suck when I forget mentioning subtle yet interesting details such as creating a new habit. I did have to stop drinking coffee for a while after the Queen’s death and I had been drinking tea for the next couple of weeks, so it has only been a few days since I returned to drinking coffee, hence the decaf coffee from Wednesday.

“So…what are you doing today?”, Mom asked.

“I gotta see the Irish. School will be completely different today,” I said, “and they’re on their way here.”

“I see. Right, go change, you don’t want to be late.”

“Yeah…I don’t…thank you for breakfast, it was really good.”

In the few minutes I had left, I went back to my room so I can change my outfit to the school attire. Interestingly, I found a full suit instead, with a dark green and orange tie. I’ll admit, the design of the tie was nice, and the colours are well mixed together. Naturally, I put on the suit and looked into the mirror. It fit me perfectly, it made me look fantastic, as if I was ready for something far more important than a cultural project. With my teeth brushed, my hair done and my bags ready, I greeted my parents a nice “bye” and I left for the school bus.

That is when my Friday morning effectively ended, and that is also the second step and the true beginning to a life-changing moment of my life.