2: Before Science Club

  After I finally manage to procure my payment from Dumbvan and Dumbervan, I return to the cafeteria and down my lunch as fast as I can. Then, I’m forced to hunker down for three more hours of the most unimaginably mind-numbing ‘education.’

  Those three hours do include my science class, by the way. It’s… Intro to Biology. Intro, as in Introduction! As in, not even Biology 1! Oh, what a travesty! Those bumbling idiots up in administration have it out for me, I swear. As a senior, I should be taking an advanced class such as Advanced Physics or Biochemistry. Instead, they forced me to take some asinine test, and then— get this— lied to my face and told me I failed! The nerve! After multiple attempts to procure my true score (they kept saying I scored 47/100, but that simply couldn’t be real) and several retake attempts, (also suspiciously ‘failed’) I resigned myself to my fate and accepted my placement.

  As revenge for this grave offense, I strive to contribute absolutely nothing in class— except for providing an excellent model for a still life painting. I simply sit in the back, rest my chin on my hand, and stare out the window. Considering how little I move throughout the period, it’s truly a shame Biology’s not an art class.

  But, enough about all that. It’s my last school period, and—

  *bling bling bling*

  —and, the bell has just rung. Now, shooting out of my seat with barely contained excitement, I can head to the only part of the average school day I actually enjoy: Science Club!

  #

  “Now, where did I set down that coffee mug? I feel like I lose the thing at around the same time every single day…”

  Class has officially been out for around a minute and a half. Mr. Harken, professor of Advanced Physics and supervisor of the Science Club, walks around his classroom cleaning and polishing all of his equipment. Physics experiments can sometimes involve a lot of moving parts, so add hyperactive high schoolers to the mix and you could have quite the difficult mess to clean up on your hands.

  “Well, I guess there’s no time to search for it now. Let’s get to work.”

  Correction: Add hyperactive high schoolers to the mix, and you could have quite the difficult mess on your hands… that the PROFESSOR would have to clean up. Mr. Harken, unfortunately for him, has just found that out the hard way.

  “Hahhhh… those fools in the science department. The capacitor experiment is so easy to teach, they said. They won’t cause a fire, they said. Even kids can handle preventing two aluminum plates from touching, they said. Well, now look at all the burning shit on my tables! They didn’t say anything about that!”

  Harken can’t help but shake his head to himself and grumble. It’s not as if this is his usual professional behavior— he’s actually regarded as one of the kindest professors by students— but everyone needs some time when they can just be a little grumpy on their own. Even as he acts dour, the old professor can feel himself start to calm down. For this old professor, that alone-time is something he only gets during the 30 minutes after class ends but before Science Club begins.

  ‘What would I do without this half-hour every day…?’

  Harken’s a fast cleaner, and it only takes him around ten minutes to finish cleaning the ashy remains of his students' attempted experiments. That means that he has the last twenty minutes to just destress and think to himself. So, he decides to retreat behind his desk and lean back into his quashy ‘relaxation’ chair. As opposed to his sturdy ‘teaching’ chair, that is currently pushed into the corner behind his desk— he doesn’t even like to look at that seat after he’s done teaching for the day.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Whooey, it really is a wonder what some peace and quiet can do for you. To be able to speak my mind without someone always listening in, without having to censor everything I say for the sake of keeping my job… I feel like a whole new man. Hello, world!”

  “Hello, Mr Harken!”

  “WHAT?!”

  Quick as a flash of lightning, Harken leaps out of his cushy rotating chair to look for the source of the second voice. He turns to survey the rows of student desks that he’d just spent time neatly organizing, only to find that no one’s there. But then, why—

  “You’re looking the wrong way, silly. Over here!”

  The professor, recognizing the voice, grimaces. Then, turning very slowly, he looks at the sturdy wooden chair he’d pushed into the corner. There, sitting in his chair— and drinking HIS COFFEE from HIS MUG— is none other than the self-proclaimed genius scientist, Eid.

  #

  I stick my tongue out and grimace.

  “Pleh. This coffee is way too bitter, Mr Harken. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful that you take the time to brew me coffee every Science Club afternoon, but… After so many of these little pre-club sessions, I would have thought that you’d eventually realize my tastes.”

  For some reason, a vein bulges in the professor’s neck, and his forehead begins to lightly bead with sweat. That’s odd— the room isn’t really that hot. Is he angry about something? Probably those pesky students he mentioned having to deal with before… I normally don’t make a peep during this precious relaxation time, but since he called out to me first (I am, in fact, a member of the world) this’ll have to be an exception. Maybe if I say something on the subject, it’ll ease his mind.

  I nod in a sagelike manner.

  “I totally empathize with you about being surrounded by irrational people. I suffer in much the same way, especially here at Wellsworth.”

  Mr. Harken’s veins bulge even more, and I’m pretty sure that I see one of them pop. Yikes, was mentioning the misbehaving kids not the right decision? If it’s that much of a source of stress for him, perhaps we should just talk about something else. But before I can make an attempt to change the subject

  “Eid…”

  “Yes, Mr Harken?”

  “Since when have you been there?”

  I blink, perplexed. We meet up like this for around 30 minutes after school every day there’s Science Club. We don’t really talk to each other, but it’s a nice and comfortable place where we can get away from dealing with the masses. He’s never had a problem with it before— heck, he even puts a mug of freshly brewed coffee on the edge of desk for me—- so I’m a little confused on why he’s acting so… well, so confused.

  “Are you feeling okay, Professor? I’ve been here since school let out, like always.”

  “Mmmhmm. Right. Like. Always?”

  He’s starting to speak in a stilted way, cutting off his words at the end like a malfunctioning speaker. His face is also starting to take on a faint purple hue. That can’t be good for his blood pressure. Honestly, I’m starting to feel somewhat concerned about this professor’s health. Surely his students couldn’t have annoyed him THIS much? No, there has to be something else.

  “Like always, yup. Ever since… um, maybe the middle of last year?”

  Another glance at the professor’s face tells me what this conversation is having the exact opposite effect of ‘relaxing’ on him. His face is red and flushed, his breathing is quickly becoming uneven, and he may even be frothing at the mouth. Severely alarmed at this point, I decide to cut straight to the chase and offer him help. Like I said before, a true scientist always supports his peers.

  “Listen, sir. I really am grateful for how you’ve allowed me to share these destressing sessions with you before the club starts. I’m honored that you feel comfortable enough to share your deepest secrets and complaints with me, so I just want you to know: there are a lot of idiots in this world, and it isn’t your fault. If you ever need to talk about all the trouble those irrational fools are causing you, I’m here to listen.”

  There. I think that was a pretty good offer, if I do say so myself. Mr. Harken even chuckles after he hears it. Then, he mutters under his breath:

  “Irrational fools, huh? Yeah, one of them comes to mind pretty damn strongly right now.”

  I nod, completely in agreement.

  “Yes, yes. I can imagine more than a few at this very moment. Now, how does this person you’re imagining make you feel?”

  “How do they make me feel? How does he MAKE ME FEEL? Oh, I’ll tell you. HE MAKES ME FEEL—”

  And then he faints, weakly stumbling back into his pink recliner before tilting his head to the side and conking out entirely. Wow. I guess he really was tired after all.

  As for why he fell over and fainted… hmm. Oh, I’ve got it! The incredible effectiveness of my emotional support must have triggered Vasovagal Syncope. That’s an overreaction of the nervous system causing reduced blood flow to the brain and— you guessed it— fainting. Wow. I knew I was good at consoling people (I’m good at almost everything I do), but I didn’t know I was THIS good. If I wasn’t so dead set on mastering all aspects of academic science, maybe I would consider becoming a proper psychologist instead.

  “Hey, he said ‘he.’ So the person bothering him must have been a boy, then. Hmm… for the mere thought of the boy to have elicited such a reaction, he must have seen him fairly recently. I wonder who the last male student Mr Harken saw was…? Besides me, of course.”

  There’s no response, except for the faint twitch of one of the sleeping Mr Harken’s bulging veins, but that’s probably just a coincidence. I really do need to stop talking to empty rooms.

  Left with nothing else to do, I pick the coffee mug back up and take another sip. I hold it in my mouth, nodding up and down in a satisfied manner— and then promptly spit it out again.

  “Nope, I just can’t get used to the taste. How do adults drink this stuff…?”

  Then, I set down the mug and relax (as much as I can in this stiff wooden chair). Just twenty minutes to go, and then Science Club starts! I can hardly wait.