Eh
The hands of the clock were always against him. Their plots, more dubious than ever. It was a the dreaded Monday morning of first period class at Vernon High School. As if it could climax any further of a nasty start of the week, it was also the first day after Thanksgiving Break; with Christmas Break a distant notion. His head rested comfortably within the cup of his hands. Tick, tick was the consuming noise that filled his ears. The red second hand sped down its track relentlessly, but even with its infinite laps from twelve to six, the minute hand strolled along with infinitely less motivation than the sliver he had to get out of bed that morning.
“Tick, tick, whatever happened to 'tick, tock'?” he verbally muttered. Not loud enough for the rest of the vacation worn students to make sense of, but loud enough to get some acknowledgment from his peers.
Mr. Travic uttered an intentionally loud fact in vain hope to get his class interested in the fall of the Roman Empire. Only a few astute students bothered to look up from their notes to reestablish Mr. Travic's belief that there indeed was life in his class. The brief change in the sluggish class barely held his interest for twenty-seven seconds by his count. Rome could have risen and fallen at the period of time the class was.
“Forty-five more minutes.” He released with an expansive yawn. By the natural gravitational pull on teenagers, his head met its resting place on the rubber edge of his desk. Forty-three minutes was the single thought in his head until he looked down at his brand new Dicke's. He had forgotten to take off the price tag. The welcoming yellow ball of Walmart probably laughing at him behind its “Roll Back” sign. At least he noticed during first period. He carefully removed the offending yellow tag from his black pants; restoring their solid color.
“Furthermore, the Roman Empire had lost a great amount of its respect world wide because it stopped its march over the world.” The bellow from Mr. Travic almost seemed pointed at him. He mocked attention to get the grouse teacher of his back. The joke in the AP Classical History class was that Mr. Travic spent his weekend crying that he did not have classes to teach. How could Mr, Travic be glad to be back at school where he had to grade countless papers and tests.
Tick, Tick the junior's eyes were focused back upon the stereotypical high school clock. 'That thing has to be slow.” he griped a bit louder than he thought.
“Well, Mister Rob Falcione,” the teacher said smugly, “ Have you ever heard the saying, a watched pot never boils, and a watched clock ends you in detention.” Rob cringed as the entire class but the 'good' students turned and stared at him. Detention already, and it was only first period.
Mr. Travic's face turned from a cold condescending glare into a smirk, “Scratch that, the look on your face was enough entertainment for me, even though I hear you can be rather humorous in detention.” He turned back to board and scrawled near indecipherable notes on the white-board. Rob would have to get Gene to give him a copy of the notes.
With Gene crossing his mind, Rob's attention was diverted from the frozen clock to the tall football player in the second row of the class. Gene was a complete irony in Rob's opinion. He was a football player, but Gene was a jock that actually did well in class, not relying on the football player card to save him from failing. He had all the girls to pick from, cheerleaders adored his very presence and pretty much every girl knew his name, even the high and mighty seniors. Gene flirted with whatever girl that was walking in the same direction down the hall, though he swore he had no intention of flirting with them. Yet, he never went to a dance because he could never build up his confidence to ask a girl to one.
Rob had to stifle a burst of laughter he felt working its way up his throat. Gene was sitting in his desk ridged, trying desperately to keep his attention on whatever facet of the Roman Empire Mr. Travic was presenting to the class. Something was distracting him, rather someone.
She was the star of the class, bound to be student of the quarter again. Her dirty blonde hair draped elegantly over her shoulders, and tucked neatly under her dark green cap. Rob caught a glimpse or two of Gene's head drifting in her direction.
“Can't blame him,” Rob grinned, “I wonder if he realizes that she is a senior.” The thought of a sophomore dating a senior could be considered a sin by many of the popular kids in the school. Not even being one of the stars of the varsity football team atoned for such a horrendous sin.
Gene could barely control himself as he felt his head shift from the teacher to the girl in the front row. She raised her hand; her perfectly painted turquoise nails glistened in Gene's eyes. The teacher paused for the question.
“Yes, Miss Nikki?”
Whatever she said escaped Gene's ears, it did not stand a chance again the angelic voice that flowed from the delicate pink lips. His momentary gawking was interrupted by Mr. Travic finishing his response and someone tapping him on the shoulder; pointing to his agape mouth. Gene quickly shut his jaw and attempted to hide his now rosy cheeks. Being caught in his gawking, Gene rested his head on his right palm so Nikki would no see his face if she looked.
The momentary gawking that Gene underwent made the class seem a little less boring for Rob. He would have to poke at Gene during lunch if Gene wandered away from the jock table. His eyes now were focused on the teacher and the notes, but his mind was still laughing at Gene.
A finger prodded Rob just below his neck; followed shortly by a piece of paper being passed on the ground. Rob bet that Todd had seen the incident, and unfolded the paper to read the note. 'How much do you want to bet I could get married to Nikki before Jonathan actually gets the guts to ask her to a dance?' Jonathan was Gene's actual name but everyone but Todd and teachers called him Gene. Rob actually laughed loudly at the note, and after the startling realization that he laughed at the note he disposed of it with practiced speed; just in time for Mr. Travic not to see it.
“Mr. Falcione, you are exceptionally vocal this morning,” his demeanor had gone back to cold and annoyed, “Do you care to share what is so funny?”
“Uh...”
“Never mind, most the stuff you find entertaining is not school appropriate anyways.” Mr. Travic interrupted Rob before he could fabricate a sick joke. “Oh you will be happy to know, the clock is not dead.” He paused and switched his attention to the entire class. “Ok, you have a quiz on Friday. Do not forget it this time and come whining to me.”
Everyone in the class packed their bags and made a line from the door. Gene was hanging back so he would not have to talk to anyone who saw him. To him, the last seconds of the class were endless, but finally the bell rang and he filed off to the gym. Rob, however, was handed a note telling him to go to Mr. Samual's office during fourth period.
~***~
The bell tolled calling to an end third period. Rob's breathe deeply as he staggered out of HomeEc class, even the Mrs. Meline already had put him on her 'I hate you' list. Her reasoning: Rob and Todd had burned some styrofoam in her class. The fumes turned the rest of the period into a noxious assault on the nostrils of the students. Thankfully, Mrs. Meline was not a teacher that sent people to detention. Rob already had a meeting with Mr. Samual to dread.
The solid oak door loomed ominously over the secretary's desk, and the colorful drawings on the door from Mr. Samual's elementary kids failed to reduce the door's effect on students. Rob sat in a plush chair against the wall opposite to the principle's office. He left out a nervous chuckle, only to shhed by the secretary. Rob really did not care that he was going to Mr. Samual's office. Simple things like that failed to phase him; in fact the whole scene reminded him of a visit to a doctor's office. The long waits, crabby secretaries, and even the plush chairs; what Rob was not looking forward to deal with, was having to explain to his parents why their son landed himself in the principle's office on his first day back from vacation.
By the time the period was half over, Rob was just about to grab his bag and leave, but the secretary glared at him over her narrow-rimmed glasses.
“Mr. Samual will see you now Mr. Falcione.” The harsh tone did not inspire much hope in Rob. He stepped slowly into Mr. Samual's office.
“Ah, the most frequent visitor visits again.” He motioned with his hand to a seat across from his desk. “Have a seat.”
“Uh... Thanks.” Rob quickly set his pack on the ground and sat down in the rather comfortable chair. “New chairs?”
“Yes, we were donated them over Thanksgiving. I suppose you are wondering why you are here.” Rob nodded and Mr. Samual continued. “I would give my normal lecture about behavior in classes and passing notes, but I gave the exact same speech to you Tuesday last week. So an alternative method of dealing with you has been developed.”
Rob grimaced at the thought of the faculties idea of an alternative method of dealing with him. “Let me guess, Community Service?”
Mr. Samual let out train of laughter. “However, entertaining that may sound, no. We actually decided to try out a mentor program with you.”
Rob let out a loud sigh, mentor programs. A senior would be his mentor to help him achieve better grades and better behavior. He did not need another person telling him what he should be doing. Mr. Samual noticed Rob's disgust.
“If you had not been so misbehaved this semester I would not have been forced to do this.” He said after a brief pause consisting of Rob glaring at him.
“Right...” Further conversation was cut short by the bell, lunch period. Rob grabbed his pack roughly and slung it over his shoulder. He retreated from the glares of the secretary and wrangled his way though the narrow halls of the school, all of which seemed to be filled with students going the opposite way.
“Great, a mentor, just flipping wonderful.” Rob grumbled as he kicked open his locker to grab his lunch. “At least it is lunch now.”
~***~
The lunch room was stuffed to capacity just like every other Monday. The rest of the week almost a third of the five-hundred students would go spend their money on the bountiful fast food restaurants. Mondays were just the days that everyone was broke from the weekend. The lunch line was already twisting its way down the hall; those at the back would probably finally pay for their food half way through the period. Today was a day Rob was glad he forced himself to stir from bed early enough to make his own lunch.
Unfortunately, even if he did not need to add to the line's number, finding the table with his friends was a challenge amongst the sea of heads. Rob grinned momentarily forgetting his visit to Mr. Samual's office, he could always count on Jon to be wearing his black attire and sunglasses. Rob stole a chair from a table encircled by freshmen, even though they may have needed that chair, there was no objection to challenge the towering junior.
“The freshies are getting smarter,” Rob set his chair down with a bang, echoed by his lunch sack hitting the table. He noticed that everyone was already at the table. “You guys are early.”
“Well,” Nikki responded hardly looking up from her homework, she was vigorously whiting-out a misspelled word. She finally looked up after rewriting it with sparkling mint green ink. “We all had the common sense to bring our own lunches rather than endure that line.”
“Actually.” Jeremy piped up. “I forgot about the line, and I am just going to live without lunch.” The freshman was eying Bert's crisp apple slices waiting for him to get distracted. The sophomore knew this, but did not make comment about it because Jeremy was his little brother. Let him have his fun.
Jon already had finished his lunch, and was shuffling a deck of cards rapidly. “Anyone up for a game of spades?” Bert nodded taking his eye off his apple slices resulting in the loss of one.
“Jeremy wants to play.” The freshman also replied to the question.
“Just let me finish this essay for English.” Nikki shot up, once again failing to even look at the person she was talking to. Jon just rolled his eyes, he knew that the essay was not due until next week. Nikki either completed the papers long before they were due, or waited for the night before to binge type. The teacher having to grade this paper was going to be one of the lucky ones. Jon dealt out the cards, thirteen to each.
“Pick your team.”
“I pick Nikki this time.” Bert quickly said, not wanted to end up on his younger brother's team as usual.
“Oh, we've started?” Nikki looked up at the mention of her name, “I guess this paper can wait a bit.” Jon snickered. “Oh shut up Jon!”
Jeremy stared at senior, “Dealer starts the bidding!”
Jon moved a few cards in his hand to their respective spots. “Hmmm...” He jokingly stroked his goatee as if he was deep in thought of what his choice should be. After a few seconds of looking at the other facial expressions at the table, he finally gave his response. “Nil.”
Bert's grin grew after hearing Jon's bet. Jeremy sucked at this game, so it should be easy to get Jon to win a hand. “Four”
“Five”
The freshman's older brother knew this was going to be easy. “Nikki we should set them.” She nodded and placed her bet at five.
Rob just shook his head at the game. Card game seemed like the only form of entertainment at the table. He pulled out his sandwich and groaned. It was smashed, the result of his enormous chemistry book. He took a bite into it and decided it still tasted good.
“So I heard you got to visit Mr. Samual.” Jon tossed at Rob, who had already devoured half his lunch.
“Yeah.” Rob really did not want to talk about it.
“This is the part where you tell us why.” Nikki said happily as she played her queen of hearts winning the trick. “Bert we only need to win three more!”
Rob growled slightly annoyed, but knew that if Nikki wanted to know he could not weasel his way out of it. “It is like the entire staff is out to get me. It is not like I look for trouble!”
“Congratulations, Rob you have discovered the secret plot of teachers. Every day they go home and decide what thay can do tomorrow to make your life worse.” Jon topped Nikki's Queen of Spades with his king. Bert thought he could force Jon to take it, and played his two of spades, but Jeremy aptly set down the Ace of Spades bringing the game down to the last hand.
“Anyways, so what happened?” Jon returned his focus back on Rob after Jeremy won the game.
“Pretty much I get a mentor.” He replied bitterly, his eyes on the cards Jon was shuffling.
“Aren't those normally for Sophomores and Freshies?”
“Yeah, Bert, they are, but Mr. Samual felt one could be helpful for me.” He tossed his lunch bag at a trashcan missing it entirely. “Geh.” He got up and threw the poorly aimed bag into the trashcan.
“Woo slam dunk!” Echoed through the lunch room.
“You have fans.” Jon greeted him again as Rob sat down. Jon looked over to where the shout originated. “And by the looks of it, they were jocks.”
Rob turned his head slightly to look at the jock table. “Yeah, I bet I will be the next varsity basket ball captain.”
“Trying to match my sarcasm are you?” Jon raised an eyebrow. “Here comes the other Jonathan fellow, Gene.”
Nikki turned her head just in time to see Gene spot her. He blushed deeply and quickly compensated by pretending to be heading to some vending machines. An awkward silence even quieted Jeremy. She looked over to Jon who was mouthing. 'Someone has a crush'.
“Oh shut your mouth.” She finally broke the powerful silence. “He will get over it. After all, he flirts with every cheerleader one is bound to fall for him.”
“The Ice Queen has spoken, let it be written, let it be done.” Jon dodged a flying Bic pen. “You missed.”
Bert decided to bring back a previous conversation to spare Jon from being impaled further by Nikki's cold glares. “Having a mentor isn't that bad. I had one last year. She and I got along great!”
“You,” Rob snapped back heavily, “Were a freshman. I am a junior.” His exaggerated motions ending the conversation quickly. Jon looked at Nikki, she seemed rather nervous. He had a good guess as to what would make the Ice Queen nervous, but the bell saved her from questioning.
“Well, I am going to head to choir now.” Nikki smiled, “Jon mind if I stuff books in your locker until 7th?”
“Sure, but don't whine if you can't remember its combo.” Jon replied packing his stuff for speech class. “See you guys tomorrow!”
A duet of 'adios' came from Bert and Jeremy.
“Yeah, bye Jon.” Rob set his backpack on the table with a thud. He was going to sleep this off period.