Before Princeton, Charlie didn't much like the first *day* of school. He didn't particularly associate new books or learning with the beginning of September as much as getting dragged away from his books and being forced to buy new shoes.
The problem with the first day of school, the first week really, was that there was a statistical certainty that Donnie would end up with a black eye or a fat lip convincing someone that Charlie was not to be touched, harrassed, or tormented by anyone other than Don Eppes. And if there had been any change in schools, teaching staff or administrators, probability of 87% over his 10 years of public schooling, Charlie's mother would end up explaining to yet another well meaning, but ignorant, school official exactly what the California Educational code did and did not permit with regards to the accommodation of her child in meticulous lawyerly detail.
It was exhausting. Which was why Charlie really liked the third week in September, when everyone had settled down and you could actually get down to the business of learning stuff. The best thing about Princeton, once he'd survived registration and gotten through the first two weeks of classes (including the embarassement of having his mom introduce herself to practically every professor on campus), was that it stayed the third week of September *forever*.
The problem with the first day of school, the first week really, was that there was a statistical certainty that Donnie would end up with a black eye or a fat lip convincing someone that Charlie was not to be touched, harrassed, or tormented by anyone other than Don Eppes. And if there had been any change in schools, teaching staff or administrators, probability of 87% over his 10 years of public schooling, Charlie's mother would end up explaining to yet another well meaning, but ignorant, school official exactly what the California Educational code did and did not permit with regards to the accommodation of her child in meticulous lawyerly detail.
It was exhausting. Which was why Charlie really liked the third week in September, when everyone had settled down and you could actually get down to the business of learning stuff. The best thing about Princeton, once he'd survived registration and gotten through the first two weeks of classes (including the embarassement of having his mom introduce herself to practically every professor on campus), was that it stayed the third week of September *forever*.
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