\chapter{1}

Andrew was --- other than that he had heard every joke, every wordplay, and each corny joke that you could do with his name\footnote{
Anders means different in German.
Andrew was the closest sounding, so this intro doesn't work as well.
Really need to think of a better intro, but I want to stay true to the source material.
}, at least one hundred times and had in the meantime gotten quite used to it and didn't find any of them weird --- actually always a little bit different than most of the others;
at least what concerned his peers and all the other human beings he knew outside of the boarding school.
It had all started with him going to the school at nine years old (nearly two years earlier than normal), and to bring the school system all the way to its knees, he actually skipped a grade right away.
With the help of several private lessons (and a generous donation from his father to the boarding school) he was sucessful.
Since he started the school of Drachental hasn't been his second, but \textit{only} home.

Andrew pretty much spent most of his time in the time-honored Castle, behind whose simple façade one of the most exclusive and expensive boarding school in the country operated.
He spent his school hours
--- Andrew was proud of not having ever missed a single school hour in his whole life, which was true, but already made him an outcast among his peers ---,
but also the most of his free time, including weekends and the shorter holidays at the castle.

Of course Andrew had friends among his peers, but not many, and if he were honest with himself (which didn't happen very often);
he didn't have very good ones.
That was probably because of who Andrew was.
He was the only son of Ottmar Beron, the owner of one of the largest corporate empires, and also very intelligent.
His IQ fluctuated
--- depending on what method one used to measure it ---
between 145 and 160.
Neither one nor the other was \textit{that} unusual in castle Drachental.
The exorbitant school funds that the parents had to pay provided for some natural selection;
even the parents that were able to pay for that level of education for their kids did it in the odd cases where their offspring was either \textit{dumb}, or when they just wanted to get rid of them.

\begin{quote}
Being rich was nothing special at Drachental.

Being somewhat intelligent wasn't too special either.
\end{quote}

But being stinking rich \textit{and} gifted in one person, which Andrew quickly found out, was a combination that could evolve into a curse that was hard to get rid of.
Instead of real friends, he had a bunch of jealous followers that just waited for something bad to happen to him so they could proclaim it as \textit{higher justice}.
So it wasn't a surprise that Andrew started early with keeping more to himself and his Books, Music and DVDs, or with long walks in the dense forests that surrounded Drachental.
While other kids wasted their afternoons in the small town that was a good 20km away, he rather watched a movie or read a book, and on the weekend he sometimes took hour long walks or once and a while an (illegal) climbing party in the near lying mountains.

He didn't mind being alone.
Years ago he had watched the others play and had felt a mix between jealousy and feeling sorry when he saw them play and laugh
--- the physical demonstration of their \textit{friendship} ---,
but that was a long time ago.
He was a kid back then.
Today he was not quite grown up yet, but also not a kid any more, and why should he long for something that he never knew, nor will he ever know?

Beyond that it wasn't quite true.
There was a least \textit{one} person whom he could call his friend, and the beeping of his cell phone not only reminded him that this person was on his way here, but that he could also be a very impatient man.
He quickly dug his phone out of his bag and glanced at the screen, noticing that it was a text from Nick
\footnote{This name worked out pretty well, in the original German it's Jannik}
, exactly what he expected.
And it was, also just as he expected, short and consisted out of three words:
\textit{Be right there.}

Andrew grinned.
That was typical for Nick.
Even if he never would have admitted it,
Nick faced any new technology with a deeply rooted natural mistrust and hated almost every device that had more than one button and who's meaning he could not really figure out,
which didn't mean he didn't know how to use it.
It took Andrew almost a year to get him to use his phone in more than just an emergency, and about just as long to get him to send texts.

This was another reason not to keep him waiting.
If he sent a text saying \textit{be right there}, it probably meant he was already driving up the windy driveway up to the gate.
And at least today Andrew was equally eager to leave the castle as his peers.
In three days summer break started, and that meant for Andrew that they started today.
Sometimes, he thought triumphantly, it was good to be stinking rich and gifted for once.
The Board of Directors would never dare to deny one of his father's wishes, and it wouldn't affect his grades that much.
He couldn't get any better than A's in all his classes anyway.

He mindlessly stuffed a few more things into his backpack.
Everything he needed he would find on the Yacht that his dad owned anyway,
so the only important stuff was his MP3 player full of music and the book he was currently reading.
He didn't really want to wait weeks to hear the ending to.
Andrew threw it over his shoulder and jogged out of his room, not bothering to lock it.
It was late afternoon and the weather outside had been picture perfect for weeks, so the Castle was pretty much deserted.
And before the others would come back the janitor would make his rounds, clean up a little, and lock up afterwards.
As mentioned before, sometimes it had its benefits\dots

He stormed down the long, wood paneled hallway and down the stairs as fast as he could without running.
Even the large courtyard was empty.
Years ago, when he was here for the first time,
the huge hall with the strict checkerboard tiles, the dark wood paneling on the walls and ceiling,
and the large pillars that were as thick as a person impressed him so much,
that the word scared would have fit better;
and this effect was exactly why it was built how it was built.
Today the hall had no effect on him at all.
In contrast it made Andrew's feelings soar with every step he took toward the door.
In front of him lay two weeks of the Mediterranean and a 30 meter Yacht.
Adieu boredom, hello adventure!

Andrew was so deep in thought that he almost ran into a man who was just lifting an arm full of packages out of the van that stood directly in front of the door.
It wasn't entirely his fault, the man had turned around just as Andrew was walking through the door with heavy steps.
The man was either as deep in thought as Andrew, or was expecting somebody completely different.
When he saw Andrew, he jumped so much that he dropped half of his packages, and a look of pure shock took over his face.
The other three packages glided out of his hands and tumbled to the ground.
As easily as they rolled away, they seemed like they were empty, and Andrew could just barely step to the side to avoid face planting.

``Sorry'' he mumbled.
With a second step that was more luck than skill, he got his balance back and turned around to the guy in the blue overalls.
The dark-haired man had already bent over to pick up his packages and was hurrying to pick them up.
Andrew noticed that his left hand was awfully scarred and that he had trouble using his fingers correctly.

``I'm really sorry about that'' Andrew said.
``Can I help you?''
The dark-haired guy looked up and stared at him with a look as if Andrew had caught him doing something bad.
He looked as if he wanted to say something, but then his eyes focused on a point behind Andrew.
For a moment he got angry, but then he jerked away and continued to pick up packages.
When Andrew started bending down to pick up a package anyway, the guy shooed him away with an angry gesture.
``Leave it alone'' he growled.
``I can handle it.''

Andrew almost gave him the answer that was on his mind
---after all, it was just as much his fault---,
but left it at a wordless shrug and turned around.
While he was turning, his eyes fell on the inside of the delivery van, whose doors were standing wide open.
Other than the boxes that the man had just taken out, there was just a crumpled up blanket and a roll of packing tape in the back.
Behind the small window to the drivers cabin Andrew could see the outline of a second man.
The driver didn't come alone.

``Seen any ghosts today?''

Andrew closed his eyes for a second, counted to three, and slowly tuned toward the voice.
In front of him stood a broad-shouldered,
leather-jacket wearing teen with buzz-cut blond hair, who's pig-like face and eyes were angrily looking him over.
Right next to him stood a second figure that looked like it had tried its best to be a copy of pig-face;
but had turned out to look like a cheap copy.
It was Preston, the pride of the school, and one of the brain-amputees that followed him around wherever he went.

``Nope'' Andrew answered after a short pause.
``Only two assholes.'' He registered movement from the corner of his eye and corrected himself: ``three.''

Preston went white as a sheet, and the fire in his eyes told Andrew that his words might not have been the wisest, but had he not been taught to never lie?

``Today is your funny day, isn't it?'' Asked Preston.
With a few steps he got closer and the treacherous fire in his eyes got stronger.
Andrew stood perfectly still and somehow managed to hold his stare, but on the inside he felt completely different.
The three stooges were the schools most famous bullies and, of course, their main victim was Andrew.
Most of the time he managed to avoid them, and as long as they weren't together, he didn't have to fear them.
Unluckily for him, they were in a group, and the threatening fire in Preston's eyes made it clear to Andrew that he wouldn't get by with a few insults and threats.

``Cat got your tongue?'' Asked Preston when Andrew answered with the only answer that wasn't suicide: not at all.

Andrew still didn't say anything.
His thoughts tumbled around in his brain.
Preston only stood one and a half steps away and the other two had just moved so that Andrew was at their center.
In other words, he was surrounded.
No way out.

``Apparently.'' Preston answered his own question with a nod and a wide, but not very humorous, grin.
``I guess if I were in your shoes I would have shit my pants too.'' He made a motion towards the bag that Andrew had hanging loosely from one shoulder.
``Where are you going, crazy?'' ``Doesn't matter'' said Andrew ``as long as it's as far away from you as possible.'' At the same time he hysterically asked himself if he was still all there.
Maybe there was an astronomically small chance that he would escape this situation without broken bones or damage to his internal organs --- but only if he would shut up soon.

The last trace of Preston's grin crept off his face and in his eyes was pure blood-lust.
``It \textit{is} your funny day.'' He stated while balling his hand into a comfortable fist.
Andrew could hear his knuckles crack.
Strangely enough, he didn't look directly at Andrew, but at a fixed point behind him.
Then Andrew got it.
He wasn't looking at him or his friends, but at the driver of the delivery van.
Maybe he was trying to calculate how soon the men would get involved.

``Okay, you're right.'' He said, trying to play the crushed one, showing just enough fear to make it believable.
``I'm sorry.
You could be generous and just for once you could just let me go.''
Preston was completely blown away.
\textit{This} reaction was the last thing he expected.
After that, a huge grin spread out on his face.


``Yeah why not?'' He asked.
Then he held up his hand, stuck out his thumb, and looked at it.
``And which one should it be?''

He \textit{actually} tried to stick his thumb into Andrew's eye.
The attack was so absurd and came so suddenly that it almost worked.
In the last moment Andrew ducked, grabbed Preston's wrist and pulled as hard as he could.
He then turned so that Preston flew over his bent hip and lost the ground beneath his feet.

Even while Preston was falling to the ground like a sack of cement, Andrew realized that he had made his third and final mistake.
Out of reflex, he jumped back, ducked and stuck out his leg so that one of Preston's idiots fell over it and pulled the other one with him.
Nick had shown him a few tricks, and he had taken two years of Judo until it had bored him, so he knew how to defend himself.
The guys were each stronger than him, but all the training in the world couldn't equal out three heavy hitters against one Judoka.
That might work in the movies, but not in real life.
Andrew quickly moved back a couple of steps, felt for solid ground with his feet, and raised his fists while the three baffled bullies started to stand up.
Behind him a car door slammed shut and Andrew heard the motor start.
The delivery guys had apparently decided not to get involved.
He was finished.
Preston and his friends would pound him into the ground and then jump around on him until they got cramps.
Andrew decided to sell himself as expensively as possible.

Fate was being nice to him.
Right when Preston finally got his 80 kg up off the ground and started to move in Andrew's direction, a loud honk followed by a sand-colored Hummer with a roaring motor flew up the driveway.
The big wheels squeaked audibly on the cobblestone, the vehicle took a tight turn and --- probably not on accident --- stopped between Andrew and Preston.
The only half-high door flew open and Nick got out, wearing the usual jeans, black turtleneck, and sunglasses.
Today they actually worked with the weather, but he also wore the sunglasses when it was raining and even sometimes when it was nighttime.

Nick didn't even bother to turn off the car or pull out the keys --- he didn't care too much for the environment or saving energy ---, but abruptly turned to Andrew and then Preston.

The hard-headed boy hesitated, and Andrew could see the wheels in his head turning.
Preston was just as big and heavy as Nick and at the moment he only consisted of muscles and anger.
Neither of his buddies were weaklings either.
Nevertheless, Andrew was relieved because he knew exactly what was going to happen even before the anger left Preston like air out of a popped balloon.

It wasn't the first time something like this had happened.
Nick didn't look too harmless either.
A well-built man with a three-day beard and short black hair, Nick wasn't something spectacular or special.
But still Andrew had witnessed men that were stronger than Preston turn white and then slink away when Nick just \textit{looked} at them.

It worked this time too.
Preston looked at him a second longer, turned around and crept away like an injured dog.
Andrew didn't have to look around to know that his companions had fled the scene.

Nick turned smiling to Andrew.
``Friends of yours?''

``The best'' answered Andrew.
``You came too early.
We just were going to say goodbye.''

``I can go drink some coffee somewhere'' Nick suggested.

Andrew acted as if he was thinking about it for a second, and then shrugged.
``It's okay.
It wasn't that important.'' 

Nick laughed and then got serious for a minute.
``Do you want me to have a chat with those idiots?''

This time Andrew actually thought about it.
It was an attractive offer, and he could vividly imagine how that lively \textit{conversation} would look, but he shook his head.


``Rather not,'' he said, ``I still need to spend a couple of years with them, you know.'' He laughed.
``But not the next two weeks.
So please drive over the vehicle, Jarvis.
My plane is waiting.''

``Just as you say, sir'' grinned Nick.
Andrew let his backpack slide off his shoulder and held it out to Nick, but he ignored the gesture and got back into the Hummer.


Andrew put on an exaggeratedly threatening face, went around the vehicle and climbed into the uncomfortable passenger seat without opening the door.


``That's an insert into your personal file, you know that, right?''

``Completely,'' said Nick, ``but one more doesn't really matter.
Buckle up.''

Andrew obeyed, and Nick put the car into gear and started driving without fastening his own seat belt.
He only drove a few meters, then stepped on the brakes and looked in the mirror.


``What?'' asked Andrew? 

``That delivery van.'' Nick began, motioning with his head toward the mirror, ``Do you know who that is? I mean, do you know the men and what they're delivering?''

``Which question do you want me to answer first?'' Andrew asked.
Nick glanced at him, but with such a sharp look that Andrew quickly added ``Nope.
No idea who that is or what they're bringing.
It's probably some material for the school.''

``The school shuts down in three days'' Nick considered.


``Maybe they need toilet paper, paper towels, or pencils…'' said Andrew mockingly.

Nick remained serious.
He looked at the van a little longer in the rear view mirror, pulled out a marker, and, due to the shortage of paper, wrote the license plate number on the back of his hand.


``Why are you doing that?'' asked Andrew.

Nick put the Hummer into gear and drove off.
``I'm going to check the plate later'' he said.
``One can never be certain.''

Almost against his will, Andrew also looked back and scrutinized the delivery van, which wasn't very effective.
It was just an older, somewhat beat up delivery van without logos, that was all.


``Has anybody ever told you that you suffer from advanced paranoia, Nick?'' he asked.


``Your dad, for example'' Nick nodded, ``that was one of the conditions of him hiring Me.'' he stated.

Andrew sighed.
They had reached the gate that was only half raised, and instinctively he pulled in his head when they flew through the opening.
Mud and gravel sprayed up around the tires of the Hummer as they raced down the driveway, usually with only two tires on the road and two on the shoulder.
Even though he was buckled in, Andrew gripped the seat with both his hands and didn't let go until they slid onto the pavement.
Any other car would have rolled at least three times in the last 100 meters, he was sure of that.


Nick, who noticed Andrew's sudden nervousness, grinned widely.
``You're not scared, are you?''

``Of what?'' Andrew responded.
``I have one question, though.
Are you sure dad is paying you to take care of me? Not to kill me?''

Nick laughed.
He didn't say anything, but glanced in the rear view mirror and kept driving much too quickly.
Andrew also turned around and looked back.
The castle was almost out of sight.
He could barely make out the delivery van exiting the gate and starting its way down the winding driveway, but of course much slower than Nick.
Andrew sighed and turned around.
``You're crazy.''

``Just careful'' Nick corrected him.


``You don't really believe that they were more than just harmless delivery guys, do you.''

``I don't \textit{believe} anything.'' Nick answered sternly, ``I try to \textit{know}.''

``Which Philosophy book did you get that from?'' Andrew asked with a grin, but Nick stayed serious.

``You're not just some guy, Andrew'' he said.
``Your father pays me to take care of you.''

``That doesn't mean that you have to see a skilled killer or a wannabe kidnapper behind every bush.'' Andrew said.


``Apparently you still don't know who your dad is.'' replied Nick.
Andrew wanted to answer, but Nick continued after a quick look in the mirror and in a slightly higher pitch ``And your dad is a very wealthy man.''

``Oh really?'' Andrew replied mockingly.

``It's not just about money.'' Nick insisted.
``Powerful men often have powerful enemies.
It's just better to be careful.
He smiled.
``But in this instance you're probably right.
They probably were just harmless delivery guys.''

Andrew pointed to the plate numbers that Nick had on the back of his hand.
``Then you could wipe that away, too.''

``Nope'' answered Nick, grinning.
He looked back in the mirror and still drove much too fast.
When they were about five to six kilometers away from the castle, he finally slowed down a bit, but really only a little bit.

``Are you nervous already?'' he asked.

``because you're driving?'' Andrew replied.
``Of course!''

``In any case, you'll be sitting in an airplane in an hour, and a few hours later you'll be headed towards Agea.
I would be excited if I were you.'' he shrugged.``You're going to see your father again.
He's is really looking forward to spending time with you for the next few weeks.''

``Does he even have that much time?'' Andrew asked.
He regretted those words even before he had finished.
They sounded much bitterer than he intended.
At least that's what he told himself.


``Not really.'' Nick answered with a shrug.
``But he does take time off for you.'' He glanced at Andrew quickly from the corner of his eye and most likely believed that Andrew didn't notice.
``He really is excited.'' 

''Yeah, me too.'' Andrew answered honestly.
It was just strange that even he realized the bitter undertone in his voice.
``I might be even happier if it were more than two weeks a year.'' 

``I thought you liked it at the boarding school.'' Nick sighed.


``I do!'' Andrew answered hastily.
He could have slapped himself.
Why did he even start this?

``I'm with your dad a lot.'' said Nick.
``Actually, whenever I'm not with you.
I'm not saying this to protect your dad now, but believe me, you wouldn't be happier if you lived with him.
The weeks that you're going to spend together are all his free time.
He travels a lot and he hardly ever gets back home before midnight.`` 

''To make another couple million? Asked Andrew.


``Nonsense!'' responded Nick with an abruptness that even surprised him.
After a noticeable pause and with a more controlled tone he continued: ``It's really not about the money.
Your dad just takes his job very seriously.
And it's important, believe me.
He has a lot of responsibilities.''

``What kinds of responsibilities?''

``For example all the people that work for him.
And many more.'' Again he hesitated and changed his tone of voice before he continued.``Is it because of those guys earlier?''

It took a moment until Andrew understood what he was talking about.
``Preston and his friends? No.'', he said as he shook his head.``It doesn't have anything to do with them.
Those three are the school bullies, they annoy everybody.
By the time vacation is over they will have forgotten it anyway.
Their memories aren't the best.
I just don't understand how they haven't been kicked out yet.''

``Maybe their parents believe that they can make the curve.'' answered Nick.``And probably one or the other teacher too.''

``Them and making the curve?'' Andrew ached.

``Give them a chance.'' said Nick.``They're young.
For some people it comes with growing up to disobey orders.''

``So you're telling me I'm not grown up yet?'' inferred Andrew.

``No, you're not.'' Answered Nick seriously.
``And you should be happy about it.'' He carefully tapped the brake, turned on his blinker, and turned off the main road with peeling tires.
 Andrew instinctively grabbed onto his seat, even though Nick was driving half as dangerous as earlier.
Andrew probably would have answered, but the Hummer had terrible suspension so he was tossed around so much that he couldn't have answered without risking biting his tongue off.
But somehow he was glad the road was in such miserable condition.
It was a good reason to end the conversation, which had made him more and more uncomfortable.

The street stayed this bad for at least five minutes, then it got better, but it didn't easy Andrew for long.
Nick drove another 100 meters, then they abruptly turned onto a narrow dirt road that quickly ended at a huge metal gate.
Nick got out, pulled out a ring of keys and opened the large padlock that secured the barrier shut.
Without explaining anything, he got back in, drove five meters, and repeated the procedure in reverse order.

``Ah.'' Andrew said as they drove off.

``We're late.'' Explained Nick.``If we drive through the woods, we'll save 5km.''

``We can go so fast!'' Andrew said sarcastically.
``And it conveniently stops any white vans from following us!''

``Nonsense!'' retorted Nick.``This way is a lot nicer.
I thought you liked nature.''

Andrew resigned.
If Nick didn't want to talk about something, he didn't.
But that he wasn't telling Andrew something was sure.
Maybe he would tell him when they were on the plane.


There was definitely some discord between the two.
They drove along for a good ten minutes in uncomfortable silence.
The car shook like a bucking wild horse made of metal with each pothole, and it seemed like Nick was practically looking for them.
At some points the path got so narrow that Andrew wasn't sure if they would make it, until they clattered over a hillside where not only the forest gave way, but the path got wider, being tarred after about 100 meters.

``The worst is over'' said Nick``the road gets a lot better after this.''

``Then we can trade places.'' Andrew suggested.
Nick looked at him incomprehensibly, but Andrew didn't buy it.``Come on.
It's not the first time you've let me drive.
You know I can do it.'' 

Of course Nick knew that, he had taught him, but still shook his head.``That was something else.'' He claimed.``It was a closed off road.''

``Oh, and this is different?'' asked Andrew.``Have a heart.
It can be an early birthday present.''

``Your birthday is in four Months!'' Nick reminded him.

``That's why it's early.'' Andrew insisted.

``I can't do that.'' said Nick.``Your dad would kill me if he found out that I let you drive.''

``I'll tell him either way if you don't let me drive.''

``That's blackmail!'' Nick complained.

``True'' said Andrew.``But you leave me no choice, and I am a spoiled, rich brat that is used to getting whatever he wants.''

Nick had obvious trouble being serious, but he perfectly played the part for a few seconds.
With a grimace he stopped and got out.

While he was walking around the car, Andrew slid over into the driver's seat and laid his hands on the giant steering wheel.
Of course Nick knew that his Blackmail attempt was just fun, but it was part of it.
If he would have just \textit{asked}, Nick would have been disappointed.

He waited until Nick got in the other side and buckled up.
Andrew then carefully stepped on the clutch.
The gears ground against each other as he put it into gear and Nick made a face like he had a tooth ache.

``Please be careful.'' He said.``This car's pretty expensive.'' 

``I did learn driving in this.'' Andrew reminded him.


``No you didn't.'' Nick stated.``Every time after you drove I went out and bought a new one.''

Andrew made a face and withheld any comments.
He did drive the Hummer into the ditch the first time he drove and caused some damage, but as far as he knew, Nick had taken the blame.
It was still a good idea to not make that a habit since his dad wasn't stupid.
If Nick always had an accident while Andrew was there, his dad would put one and one together and would cause a lot of trouble.

Andrew got rid of his troubling thoughts and concentrated on slowly speeding up while hopefully staying on the road.
It had almost been six months since Nick had last let him drive, and the Hummer was everything except good natured.
They had only driven on blocked off and well-built roads anyway, not on a bumpy, run-down gravel road that snaked back and forth.
It took a while for him to get used to the complicated shifting and four-wheel drive, but when he finally got it, he drove so securely that Nick looked at him so surprised that Andrew could see his thoughts on his forehead\footnote{I don't know if this works in English, but it's similar to seeing someones gears turning in their head}.

``You're sure that other than me nobody else is giving you lessons?'' he asked.

``Definitely not.'' said Andrew.
That was actually true.
He himself was somewhat surprised how easy it was him, but he had always been a quick learner and had a natural understanding of anything related to tech that was almost as big as Nick's dislike for it.


He could think about that later.
Right now he concentrated on enjoying the ride.
He quickly had the car in control so well that Nick had to tell him to slow down a bit.


It was over way too fast.
After 2-3 km the street got a lot smaller, and at the end, there stood a similar metal gate as the one at the top.

While Nick got out to open the gate, Andrew scooted over to the passenger seat.
He was disappointed that it was over, but was glad that he had some excitement of this intensity.


``That wasn't that bad.'' Nick praised as he drove through the gate.
Andrew registered that he didn't bother to close the gate.``When you're old enough to get a license your dad is going to save a lot of money on Drivers Ed.''

``That'll be a big weight lifted off his chest,\footnote{In the original, it says ``A stone will fall off of his heart''.
That doesn't translate well.} Thanks.'' Andrew said sarcastically.


``There's nothing to thank for! I was kind of forced to let you drive.'' He said in mock anger and smoothly transitioned to being serious.
``Your ticket is OK?''

``Last time I looked it was.'' Answered Andrew.
``This morning, to be exact.
I'll check again if you want me to.''

``Do that.'' Nick said.

Andrew rolled his eyes, but reached back and fished for his backpack, took out the ticket and shoved it under Nick's nose.
He looked at it with a short, but very attentive look and followed Andrews movements as he threw his pass back into his bag.

``Good book?'' he asked.


Andrew was puzzled for a second, then looked down and finally got that Nick was talking about the large book in his backpack.
``The True-Dreamer, by Bernhard Hennen.'' he said.``Pretty good, even though it is kind of weird sometimes, but it is an easy read.''

``You still read that weird stuff?'' asked Nick.
Andrew could fool himself, but it seemed as if it was hard for Nick to stifle a disparaging chuckle.

``Fantasy?'' Andrew asked with emphasis.``Yeah of course.
And it isn't weird;
they're just very imaginative stories.'' 

His voice was sharper than he expected, and Nick pulled his head in a little.

``I just can't understand it.
I tried reading a couple of those books, but I just don't like them.''

``Maybe you just grabbed the wrong books.''

Nick shook his head again.''No, no;
they were well-written and very gripping.''

``But?''

``I just think they're futile.'' Nick hesitated for a moment, and then continued.``Reality is just as exiting and the world is big already, you know? It's just not necessary to imagine any other worlds.
All those things that the authors make up in your fantasy-romance novels already exist in real life.
It's just completely useless to imagine new ones.''

Andrew swallowed everything down that he had on the tip of his tongue.
It wasn't the first time they had talked about it, but after what had happened with Preston and his two friends, he was probably overreacting.
Nick wasn't the only one that thought like that.

Of course fantasy Literature of every type was the most popular material with the students (some teachers too, but they would never admit that), and Andrew was god knows not the only one that read a lot of Tad Williams, Tolkien, Lovecraft, and Koontz.
But there was one difference: It was natural for Andrew and his peers to go through a lot of novels about Elves, Trolls, Fairies, and Goblins, but not let an opportunity to deny believing ‘any of that nonsense' pass.

With Andrew that was different\footnote{Directly translated from the original: ``With 'different' that was (haha!) different.'' See first footnote on his name}.
Of course he didn't believe that there were – or ever had been – Hobbits, Trolls, or any other speaking animals.
But he believed strongly that somewhere out there there was \textit{something} that all of it was based on, a hidden world behind all of it, where there \textit{were} Elves and Halflings and Fairies, and a whole bunch of others that were even more fantastic.
Of course that gave him that reputation of being special and crazy.

With what had happened less than half an hour ago at school he decided that he should leave it alone.
``How long is it going to take?'' he asked instead.

Nick looked at him with an annoyed look.
Andrew knew the way just as well as he did, but realized that Andrew just wanted to have a change in conversation.
``Ten Minutes.'' He said, as he looked at the speedometer, then the clock in the dash.
He accelerated so suddenly that Andrew was pressed into the seat with enough force that he felt like he was on a roller coaster.


``Six.'' Nick corrected himself.

Andrew didn't add any comments to that, but he knew one thing for sure: Nick was not telling him something.
