make the best of this test

it's something unpredictable

BuT IN THE END IT's RIGHT

i hope you have the time

"Just go fish, E.B.." Elias insisted, his characteristic grin in place.

"Grandad Bryce used to say I was too noisy for the fish, so I didn't learn much." Everett offered a shrug, lifting his hands palm upward as his shoulders rose, then fell.

"Ebs, bro. Take a stick, tie a hook on, and swing it into the water. Easy peasy." Eli laughed.

Easy peasy.

The conversation echoed, pursuing him as he stared intently at the repeating pattern on the fabric adorning the unoccupied seat in front of him. Everett's attention to the trivial details was easily the only thing keeping him awake, combating the rhythmic journey. He was so engrossed in the design (and whether or not there was the same amount of each of the design elements), in fact, that he didn't notice the monorail stop.

"End of the line." A passing stranger stated.

"Mmm?" Distant blue eyes swept to the stranger, then snapped into focus. "Thanks." The male who spoke was taller than Everett's five foot six inch frame by close to two inches, but he had childlike features that reminded Everett that, at twenty, he was edging toward classification as part of the oldest project participants.

Everett grabbed the strap of his backpack, simultaneously standing up and swinging the bag across his side until it thumped against his back, before trailing the retreating stranger to the Summit station.

It had to be close to noon now, but Everett Emery could use a nap.

Fumbling for his iPod as he reached some conveniently placed chairs, the teen dug his hand deeper into his backpack without taking the time to move it from its place on his back. Impulsively Everett yanked up on the familiar white headphones the moment his fingers grazed them, sending the entangled iPod, 4x5.5 inch "half" notebook, and iPod charger to the station floor.

There was no way he'd make it as a fisherman. Everett sighed sleepily, dropping to his knees to gather the few spilled items.