This was some straight up bullshit.
Only in that day and age could a harmless Facebook conversation have boiled over into the hot water Lucas Brady had found himself in. Someone must’ve told the school that he’d been saying a bunch of crap online about Nathan Coleman that he did not actually say, because he’d gone from a student who’d at most been told to settle down by a teacher, to being right in front of the Mr. Cromwell getting an earful. Not a particularly stern earful, more a really long and annoying and, most importantly, unnecessary one, but an earful none the less.
Yes, he knew about ‘language’ and how his choice of words could hurt people, and how he couldn’t just say whatever he wanted on social media. He wasn’t the right-wing lunatic who couldn’t empathise with disabled people that people wanted to paint him as, but that didn’t mean he’d been wrong to point out that Nathan was not qualified for the job of student president. Why the hell was Cromwell and the rest of the student body making such a big deal out of nothing?
Because they were probably bored, and sad, and a bunch of dickheads, that was why.
He’d been pretty lucky not to have his parents called in, he supposed in hindsight. Not because he didn’t think they’d take his side (his sister had in fact, unbeknownst to Lucas, seen and told said parents about the whole thing), but because with his Grandpa in the hospital still, the last thing they needed was this on their plate. It would be his cross to bear, his annoying unjustified cross that took the form of a week of volunteering in the Special Ed classroom.
Spending time with these people was going to change his mind and make his heart a little bit softer, he imagined the reasoning behind it had gone. That would imply that he had any issues with them to begin with though, which he didn’t, so all it really was doing was taking away his free time for a week. If anything, it was just a modified detention, only instead of hanging out with people who picked fights and took weed behind the school, he was hanging out with people who picked Velcro shoes and took anti-seizure medicine.
Ok, that was probably exaggerating it and maybe just a little over the line, but he was not happy with the situation one bit.
He was in the classroom, sharing a table with four students he never spoke to otherwise, trying his best to put on a smile and not look like he was having a massive sulk about the outcome. Again, it wasn’t their fault and he wasn’t blaming them. It might’ve been Nathan’s fault, and he could have blamed him, but again that probably wasn’t fair.
Bored people being dicks. He’d blame them.
He’d had a brief overview of the lesson plan, and as the teacher announced that they were going to be doing some maths, he got up, still smiling, to head over to the folders. Hand these out, help them work through the problems, etcetera.
As he approached the shelves, the rest of the class absorbed in their own world, he inevitably found himself with the other student assisting the teacher.
“Hey, Nathan.”
The smile faltered. Lucas wasn’t sure whether or not he should’ve said anything, but he certainly did not want to.
A Special Education
Lucas x Nathan in the special ed classroom. Other students who'd be there, feel free to PM!
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MK Kilmarnock
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"Hi Lucas!"
Nathan waved back eagerly. When the teacher told him that Lucas would be joining the class, Nathan grew very excited. He could not think about anything else until this very moment, and now Lucas was here to spend class with them. "I can take half the folders from you. Uhm, I'll give them to that side..." Nathan pointed, though it was not very clear just to what side of the room he had been pointing. "And you'll get... you'll get... everybody else," he said after a brief pause, then held his hands out.
"Nathan!" One of the students, a large boy with dark skin, curly hair and large brown eyes who was near to both Lucas and Nathan called out. "Do you like Call of Duty?" The boy spoke very loudly, visibly bothering at least two students who sat in the same group with him. When Nathan did not immediately respond, the boy's attention turned to Lucas. "Do you like Call of Duty? Have you played Call of Duty?" the boy repeated the same question. "I like Call of Duty!"
"Do work, Tim!" Nathan scolded, wagging a finger at the boy who was called Tim.
Nathan waved back eagerly. When the teacher told him that Lucas would be joining the class, Nathan grew very excited. He could not think about anything else until this very moment, and now Lucas was here to spend class with them. "I can take half the folders from you. Uhm, I'll give them to that side..." Nathan pointed, though it was not very clear just to what side of the room he had been pointing. "And you'll get... you'll get... everybody else," he said after a brief pause, then held his hands out.
"Nathan!" One of the students, a large boy with dark skin, curly hair and large brown eyes who was near to both Lucas and Nathan called out. "Do you like Call of Duty?" The boy spoke very loudly, visibly bothering at least two students who sat in the same group with him. When Nathan did not immediately respond, the boy's attention turned to Lucas. "Do you like Call of Duty? Have you played Call of Duty?" the boy repeated the same question. "I like Call of Duty!"
"Do work, Tim!" Nathan scolded, wagging a finger at the boy who was called Tim.
Lucas stood there, looking at Tim with a rather obvious feeling of discomfort. It was such a bizarre outburst, it felt like it belonged in a stupid cartoon with cheap stereotypes, maybe Family Guy or South Park. Of course, it couldn’t be a stereotype if the kid had actually done it, but there was no real other way of describing it.
He turned back to Nathan, ignoring Tim outright. Did Nathan ever have outbursts like that? He didn’t remember him having any, but it’s not like he’d paid any attention to Nathan whatsoever before he’d come in and yanked the presidency out from under him. At least he was focusing on doing work instead of talking about video games. Lucas could respect that.
He looked down at the folders in his hands, looking at the names on the side. Of course he didn’t recognise any of them.
“Yeah…” he looked around, thinking of having to ask everyone who was who. Thinking he had no idea how they’d react, or what sort of situation he might find himself in. He really just didn’t feel like talking to a lot of people at that point.
“…look, I don’t really know anyone here so, I don’t know could we just hand them out together?”
He tried to smile again, but didn’t do a great job of it.
He turned back to Nathan, ignoring Tim outright. Did Nathan ever have outbursts like that? He didn’t remember him having any, but it’s not like he’d paid any attention to Nathan whatsoever before he’d come in and yanked the presidency out from under him. At least he was focusing on doing work instead of talking about video games. Lucas could respect that.
He looked down at the folders in his hands, looking at the names on the side. Of course he didn’t recognise any of them.
“Yeah…” he looked around, thinking of having to ask everyone who was who. Thinking he had no idea how they’d react, or what sort of situation he might find himself in. He really just didn’t feel like talking to a lot of people at that point.
“…look, I don’t really know anyone here so, I don’t know could we just hand them out together?”
He tried to smile again, but didn’t do a great job of it.
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MK Kilmarnock
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When somebody smiles at you, the polite thing to do is to smile back. Nathan smiled back at Lucas and listened carefully to what he had to say. He then thought carefully about what Lucas had to say, and what to say back, nodding as he listened.
"Mmmmhm," Nathan thought aloud, lips pulled wide and cheeks puffed out. He smacked his lips once, looking to the side and then looking back at Lucas. "Well, uhm, if you call... out them... their names, then they raise their hands. And that's how you know!" To demonstrate, Nathan neatly tapped the folders in his hands down on a table to straighten them, and cleared his throat.
"Melanie!"
A girl at a desk in the far group craned her head around to look at Nathan. Nathan, of course, already knew who Melanie was. They were in the same class, after all! A couple students turned their heads to look at Lucas.
"Mmmmhm," Nathan thought aloud, lips pulled wide and cheeks puffed out. He smacked his lips once, looking to the side and then looking back at Lucas. "Well, uhm, if you call... out them... their names, then they raise their hands. And that's how you know!" To demonstrate, Nathan neatly tapped the folders in his hands down on a table to straighten them, and cleared his throat.
"Melanie!"
A girl at a desk in the far group craned her head around to look at Nathan. Nathan, of course, already knew who Melanie was. They were in the same class, after all! A couple students turned their heads to look at Lucas.
Lucas looked away from the group of eyes looking back at him as his expression further soured. It was actually a really simple solution, so it was a bit embarrassing not to have thought of it himself. All the attention wasn’t putting him at any more ease either.
Never the less, he started calling out the names on his pile and making his rounds, handing each and every one over with its own little forced smile.
Finally the class was settled, concentrating on their problems while Lucas and Nathan had wound up sat next to each other. Lucas seemed to have gotten the luck of the draw, as the girl on his left seemed as averse to talking to someone new as he did at that time, and competent enough with her problems. That, or she was too shy to actually ask him for any help.
So, instead of checking she was doing alright, he turned to the other special ed kid next to him.
“Nathan, why did you run for student council president? I mean it's not like you were ever on the student council.”
He hadn’t actually meant to go there right off the bat, but once he opened his mouth it had just fallen out. Oh well.
Never the less, he started calling out the names on his pile and making his rounds, handing each and every one over with its own little forced smile.
Finally the class was settled, concentrating on their problems while Lucas and Nathan had wound up sat next to each other. Lucas seemed to have gotten the luck of the draw, as the girl on his left seemed as averse to talking to someone new as he did at that time, and competent enough with her problems. That, or she was too shy to actually ask him for any help.
So, instead of checking she was doing alright, he turned to the other special ed kid next to him.
“Nathan, why did you run for student council president? I mean it's not like you were ever on the student council.”
He hadn’t actually meant to go there right off the bat, but once he opened his mouth it had just fallen out. Oh well.
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MK Kilmarnock
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The classroom did not seem as organized as the type of classroom Lucas was used to. At least, I wasn't organized in the same way. Even at its quietest, little noises could be heard coming from one or two tables. One child, a girl at the table farthest from Lucas' and Nathan's, made constant small whines while she worked. Every now and then, the students near to her would raise a finger to their lips and shush or, or they would say 'quiet voice'. She would make the sign back in response to acknowledge, and would quiet down for a few seconds before the vocalization began again.
The seating arrangement did not have any clear pattern to it. The quiet girl on the other side was doing a packet of math problems, double-digit addition and subtraction. Her learning goals were to master borrowing for subtraction and carrying the tens digit for addition. Nathan seemed to be more advanced in math, and was working on money problems. The first page was no problem for him, but the second page introduced word problems and his progress had become very slow by the time Lucas asked his question.
Nathan looked up from his work, chewing on his cheek to think.
"Uhm, in our... history class, we learned about presidents," Nathan said. "And how some do a good job, some do a..." he halted on the word, though it was a simple one. His face looked like he knew exactly what he wanted to say, but it wouldn't come out. "They don't do a good job, because they don't help out!" It was a vague way of putting it, though he seemed sure in his answer. "I just want to help out and do a good job. Mrs. Bautista said, I should run!"
He smiled at Lucas and looked back down at his work, but his pencil wasn't moving.
The seating arrangement did not have any clear pattern to it. The quiet girl on the other side was doing a packet of math problems, double-digit addition and subtraction. Her learning goals were to master borrowing for subtraction and carrying the tens digit for addition. Nathan seemed to be more advanced in math, and was working on money problems. The first page was no problem for him, but the second page introduced word problems and his progress had become very slow by the time Lucas asked his question.
Nathan looked up from his work, chewing on his cheek to think.
"Uhm, in our... history class, we learned about presidents," Nathan said. "And how some do a good job, some do a..." he halted on the word, though it was a simple one. His face looked like he knew exactly what he wanted to say, but it wouldn't come out. "They don't do a good job, because they don't help out!" It was a vague way of putting it, though he seemed sure in his answer. "I just want to help out and do a good job. Mrs. Bautista said, I should run!"
He smiled at Lucas and looked back down at his work, but his pencil wasn't moving.
Lucas did not smile back at Nathan. He looked rather stunned, actually.
“You…you know it’s not that simple, right? There’s a whole myriad of reasons why presidents would be considered successful or not, both during their term and in hindsight. Given all the different things presidents are considered responsible for, whether appropriately or not, you’re always going to have half the population saying they sucked and half saying they did amazing. Or more likely, they’d say they did their best but the odds were stacked against them.”
He had intended to keep it as a careful hushed whisper, as he so often tried to do in class conversations. But as so often happened, when the right topic was on the table, his voice was creeping up in volume and pace quite quickly.
“And how do you even define ‘helping out’? it’s not like the presidents actually go anywhere and do the job themselves, except maybe digging a hole or shaking a hand for a photo op every now and then. I mean the president’s job is very much a managerial one, and one of the most important skills in that sort of role is delegating. They don’t even do all the diplomacy themselves; do you know how many diplomats we have in the US?”
Unfortunately for Nathan once Lucas got started on politics it was very hard to get him to stop. Unfortunately for Lucas, Mrs Bautista, the teacher, was not deaf and was giving him a rather disapproving look. Lucas did not notice.
“And if you really just wanted to help out, why didn’t you just join the volunteering club or something? You don’t need a tonne of experience to help them out, they mostly just bake cakes and go talk to people for a few hours then pat themselves on the back. As if that solves all the problems.”
“Lucas!”
“What? It’s true!”
True or not, the teacher’s look indicated he should put a sock in it right there and then before he landed himself in more hot water. This wasn’t just a classroom chat, after all, he was there to be punished.
He sank back into himself, looking at Nathan out of the corner of his eye waiting to see if he had a comeback even as he sulked, as at least half the class gave him their full attention.
“You…you know it’s not that simple, right? There’s a whole myriad of reasons why presidents would be considered successful or not, both during their term and in hindsight. Given all the different things presidents are considered responsible for, whether appropriately or not, you’re always going to have half the population saying they sucked and half saying they did amazing. Or more likely, they’d say they did their best but the odds were stacked against them.”
He had intended to keep it as a careful hushed whisper, as he so often tried to do in class conversations. But as so often happened, when the right topic was on the table, his voice was creeping up in volume and pace quite quickly.
“And how do you even define ‘helping out’? it’s not like the presidents actually go anywhere and do the job themselves, except maybe digging a hole or shaking a hand for a photo op every now and then. I mean the president’s job is very much a managerial one, and one of the most important skills in that sort of role is delegating. They don’t even do all the diplomacy themselves; do you know how many diplomats we have in the US?”
Unfortunately for Nathan once Lucas got started on politics it was very hard to get him to stop. Unfortunately for Lucas, Mrs Bautista, the teacher, was not deaf and was giving him a rather disapproving look. Lucas did not notice.
“And if you really just wanted to help out, why didn’t you just join the volunteering club or something? You don’t need a tonne of experience to help them out, they mostly just bake cakes and go talk to people for a few hours then pat themselves on the back. As if that solves all the problems.”
“Lucas!”
“What? It’s true!”
True or not, the teacher’s look indicated he should put a sock in it right there and then before he landed himself in more hot water. This wasn’t just a classroom chat, after all, he was there to be punished.
He sank back into himself, looking at Nathan out of the corner of his eye waiting to see if he had a comeback even as he sulked, as at least half the class gave him their full attention.
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MK Kilmarnock
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Nathan clapped his ears against his head and held them there when Lucas raised his voice. Nathan was interested in what Lucas had to say, but Lucas was just saying it too loudly. Even with his hands on his ears, Nathan heard most of what Lucas said. He said a lot, and he said it quickly. Lucas had said so much in his hurry that Nathan struggled to keep up with it.
The big chunk in the middle, about what the president actually did or did not do, was mostly forgotten as Nathan picked pieces of information to think about. As the class president thought, Mrs. Bautista stood up from her desk and moved to one of the tables, helping some students individually with their work. "It's too bad I'm not teaching civics, Lucas," Mrs. Bautista said. "It seems like you have a lot to say on these matters. If you have the time, maybe you'll help out in our students' history classes." She dropped the subject there. It was more of a threat than a sincere suggestion.
Nathan was quiet for a few more moments. His hands had dropped down from his ears and now they were pressed to his chin as he rested his head on them. Just as class had gone silent, Nathan spoke up: "Why did you wanna be president?"
The big chunk in the middle, about what the president actually did or did not do, was mostly forgotten as Nathan picked pieces of information to think about. As the class president thought, Mrs. Bautista stood up from her desk and moved to one of the tables, helping some students individually with their work. "It's too bad I'm not teaching civics, Lucas," Mrs. Bautista said. "It seems like you have a lot to say on these matters. If you have the time, maybe you'll help out in our students' history classes." She dropped the subject there. It was more of a threat than a sincere suggestion.
Nathan was quiet for a few more moments. His hands had dropped down from his ears and now they were pressed to his chin as he rested his head on them. Just as class had gone silent, Nathan spoke up: "Why did you wanna be president?"
Lucas avoided giving Mrs Bautista the evil eye as she reiterated his position in the classroom. In fairness, he did know he’d been speaking loudly and out of turn, but in more fairness, he was still right. There was a time and a place to be right though, as his Grandpa would say.
He was caught off guard by Nathan’s response, both from having more or less moved back to his own sulking train of thought when he hadn’t said anything immediately, and by the question itself. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out.
Damn, he had to think about that one.
“Well, I guess…” he trailed on the word, eyes looking to the left as he pondered. It shouldn’t have been a tough question, really. The decision to run for student council had seemed pretty obvious: he wanted to be in charge, and he was one of the most experienced members. That and he was the best at politics and political science, and it was a solid thing to put on his application to Georgetown. He was best for the job, obviously; he’d just been screwed over by some rotten timing and dicks on Facebook.
“I wanted to do it because I thought I’d be a good fit for the job, based on my experience and knowledge, and I wanted to have something to go on my college application. It’s not like I’ve got a tonne of stuff that’s going to help me stand out and get into Georgetown without it. GPA doesn’t count for enough in this day and age.”
He realised he’d been going on again, but luckily his rather subdued reply had avoided the teacher’s notice. Why it was so subdued was due to something he was a bit loathe to admit to Nathan:
“I suppose it doesn’t sound as noble as just wanting to help, really.”
He was caught off guard by Nathan’s response, both from having more or less moved back to his own sulking train of thought when he hadn’t said anything immediately, and by the question itself. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out.
Damn, he had to think about that one.
“Well, I guess…” he trailed on the word, eyes looking to the left as he pondered. It shouldn’t have been a tough question, really. The decision to run for student council had seemed pretty obvious: he wanted to be in charge, and he was one of the most experienced members. That and he was the best at politics and political science, and it was a solid thing to put on his application to Georgetown. He was best for the job, obviously; he’d just been screwed over by some rotten timing and dicks on Facebook.
“I wanted to do it because I thought I’d be a good fit for the job, based on my experience and knowledge, and I wanted to have something to go on my college application. It’s not like I’ve got a tonne of stuff that’s going to help me stand out and get into Georgetown without it. GPA doesn’t count for enough in this day and age.”
He realised he’d been going on again, but luckily his rather subdued reply had avoided the teacher’s notice. Why it was so subdued was due to something he was a bit loathe to admit to Nathan:
“I suppose it doesn’t sound as noble as just wanting to help, really.”
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MK Kilmarnock
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"But, you want to help?" Nathan asked Lucas. "So it's not... a bad reason, I guess." Nathan adjusted the glasses on his face, carefully pulling on each of the handles and wiggling it back and forth until they felt just right. He picked up his pencil again and put it on the paper.
'John has $9 dollars. He wants to buy a folder, a notebook and a box of staples. The folder costs $2.50. The notebook costs $5.00. The box of staples costs $3.00. Does John have enough to buy what he wants?'
Nathan did not need a calculator to do the math, but he needed to pick through the words to get to the important numbers in the question. Folder. Notebook. Staples. Foldernotebookstaplesnotebookfolder. Just one of each? And which was supposed to cost what again? He wanted... wait, he wanted what? And he has nine dollars. Nine. Nine ones. Odd number, not divided by two. Can it be divided by... one... two... yes, it can be divided by three. There are three items, did that have anything to do with the problem? He could buy three boxes of staples. What does John want all of this for? Can he pick up another dollar? How many dollars did he have again- he had nine. And he wants to be come president. No, that's what Lucas wants. That's what Nathan wanted. Nathan got what he wanted. John needs to buy...
Nathan set down his pencil, because he found it too hard to focus. He plucked his glasses off as well and set them down on the desk, then began rubbing his face with both palms, making a small noise of discomfort. He grabbed his glasses again and put them on, squinting and blinking before looking back at Lucas.
"That's like my reason too. Because... it helps me run my restaurant one day! Because I'll pra... I'll practice being a leru- leader."
'John has $9 dollars. He wants to buy a folder, a notebook and a box of staples. The folder costs $2.50. The notebook costs $5.00. The box of staples costs $3.00. Does John have enough to buy what he wants?'
Nathan did not need a calculator to do the math, but he needed to pick through the words to get to the important numbers in the question. Folder. Notebook. Staples. Foldernotebookstaplesnotebookfolder. Just one of each? And which was supposed to cost what again? He wanted... wait, he wanted what? And he has nine dollars. Nine. Nine ones. Odd number, not divided by two. Can it be divided by... one... two... yes, it can be divided by three. There are three items, did that have anything to do with the problem? He could buy three boxes of staples. What does John want all of this for? Can he pick up another dollar? How many dollars did he have again- he had nine. And he wants to be come president. No, that's what Lucas wants. That's what Nathan wanted. Nathan got what he wanted. John needs to buy...
Nathan set down his pencil, because he found it too hard to focus. He plucked his glasses off as well and set them down on the desk, then began rubbing his face with both palms, making a small noise of discomfort. He grabbed his glasses again and put them on, squinting and blinking before looking back at Lucas.
"That's like my reason too. Because... it helps me run my restaurant one day! Because I'll pra... I'll practice being a leru- leader."
Had he wanted to help? He didn’t think it had sounded like that when he’d said it out loud, so he wasn’t sure where Nathan had got that impression from. Given his half-hearted response, maybe he hadn’t really believed it either.
Lucas sank back into his seat and his thoughts, watching Nathan struggle with his problem out of the corner of his eye. Ten fifty was the obvious solution, so yes, John had enough. Was this really the sort of thing a guy his age was doing at school? Wasn’t the reason Nathan was helping in the first place was because he was considered above average in maths, as far as this average went?
Sheesh, if this was the sort of thing that they had to deal with every day, it wasn’t much wonder the special ed kids needed all this support.
Lucas huffed a contemplative huff out his nose and decided to try to do what he was in the class to do and lend a hand. Nathan interrupted him before he could start, though.
Really? A restaurant? How was he supposed to do the accounts when math this simple was so hard for him? Lucas stopped to try and picture Nathan in some kind of management position. What he came up with would certainly earn himself another photoshopped Facebook picture if it ever got out. Which was not ok.
He gathered himself, trying not to let his discomfort with his own thoughts show and return to a polite, friendly half-smile. “That’s cool. It’s good that you have a goal you can work towards.” he said, carrying a tone that accompanied the platitude quite nicely. “What sort of leader are you going to be then? Do you have any ideas for the school council?”
Lucas sank back into his seat and his thoughts, watching Nathan struggle with his problem out of the corner of his eye. Ten fifty was the obvious solution, so yes, John had enough. Was this really the sort of thing a guy his age was doing at school? Wasn’t the reason Nathan was helping in the first place was because he was considered above average in maths, as far as this average went?
Sheesh, if this was the sort of thing that they had to deal with every day, it wasn’t much wonder the special ed kids needed all this support.
Lucas huffed a contemplative huff out his nose and decided to try to do what he was in the class to do and lend a hand. Nathan interrupted him before he could start, though.
Really? A restaurant? How was he supposed to do the accounts when math this simple was so hard for him? Lucas stopped to try and picture Nathan in some kind of management position. What he came up with would certainly earn himself another photoshopped Facebook picture if it ever got out. Which was not ok.
He gathered himself, trying not to let his discomfort with his own thoughts show and return to a polite, friendly half-smile. “That’s cool. It’s good that you have a goal you can work towards.” he said, carrying a tone that accompanied the platitude quite nicely. “What sort of leader are you going to be then? Do you have any ideas for the school council?”
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MK Kilmarnock
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Nathan did not respond to Lucas. Lucas had asked him a very important question, so Nathan would need a lot of time to think about it.
Nathan looked at his paper and his face began to move in peculiar ways. The corners of his mouth twitched and changed shape and his eyes squinted, then opened wide, then squinted again. There was a silent conversation going on in his head and if you looked at his face, you could try to follow it. Then, with great care, Nathan picked up his pencil and began to write something down.
'"NO $9.00 IS LESS THEN $10.50"
Nathan proudly put down his pencil and admired his handiwork. Even if he realized he used the wrong word by writing 'then' instead of 'than', this was not English class, it was math class. He felt he got the math problem right, and that was what mattered. He turned to Lucas and said:
"Huh what did you say?"
Nathan looked at his paper and his face began to move in peculiar ways. The corners of his mouth twitched and changed shape and his eyes squinted, then opened wide, then squinted again. There was a silent conversation going on in his head and if you looked at his face, you could try to follow it. Then, with great care, Nathan picked up his pencil and began to write something down.
'"NO $9.00 IS LESS THEN $10.50"
Nathan proudly put down his pencil and admired his handiwork. Even if he realized he used the wrong word by writing 'then' instead of 'than', this was not English class, it was math class. He felt he got the math problem right, and that was what mattered. He turned to Lucas and said:
"Huh what did you say?"
Lucas watched and waited as Nathan went through his thought process, assuming that there was a reply being put together. He found himself feeling just a bit impatient towards Nathan, probably because they were back on the topic of the presidency that had been stolen out from under him. Really, if Nathan had won then he should’ve known what he was going to be doing as president.
He couldn’t immediately reel off his agenda though, either because he wasn’t that fast a thinker, or because he didn’t actually know what he was going to do. Lucas had no way of knowing for certain which was the case, but he had a pretty strong green-eyed feeling that neither were far off.
When Nathan finished writing, Lucas peered over at the paper. Right, ten fifty. That’s the answer he’d come to five minutes ago. He slouched back again as Nathan remembered he was there.
“Nevermind.” He sighed at Nathan’s forgetfulness, catching himself and covering it with another empty smile. “Do you want a hand with the next one, or do you think you’ve got it? You did alright with that one.”
Maybe jealousy wasn’t the right thing to feel. After all, Nathan did have to work hard on a lot of things that came easily to Lucas.
He couldn’t immediately reel off his agenda though, either because he wasn’t that fast a thinker, or because he didn’t actually know what he was going to do. Lucas had no way of knowing for certain which was the case, but he had a pretty strong green-eyed feeling that neither were far off.
When Nathan finished writing, Lucas peered over at the paper. Right, ten fifty. That’s the answer he’d come to five minutes ago. He slouched back again as Nathan remembered he was there.
“Nevermind.” He sighed at Nathan’s forgetfulness, catching himself and covering it with another empty smile. “Do you want a hand with the next one, or do you think you’ve got it? You did alright with that one.”
Maybe jealousy wasn’t the right thing to feel. After all, Nathan did have to work hard on a lot of things that came easily to Lucas.
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MK Kilmarnock
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- Location: On one of the coasts, generally
"Oh, okay."
Nathan guessed what Lucas had to say was not actually important at all, then. He tried to remember what they were talking about before that math problem. Was it the restaurant? Nathan started to think about what he might order next time at his favorite restaurant, and how once he owned a business of his very own, he would feed lots of people to make them happy. Maybe he would even be able to buy that very restaurant instead of having to make his own. Buying a business had to be a lot easier than making one from thin air.
"I can do it," Nathan insisted when Lucas asked him if he needed help. Meatballs and lasagna danced through Nathan's mind when he was trying to think about numbers. He slapped his stomach and frowned until the thoughts went away. He really hoped Mom would take him tonight. "Tim, uh, usually needs more help."
As if summoned by the mention of his name, Tim, who had been quiet for at least a few minutes, scooted his chair around and leaned in uncomfortably close to Lucas, invading the personal space that it was always important to keep with classmates.
"Lucas, you're Lucas! You know we have lots of Lucases, you know? LUK-AS!" Tim said, emphasizing the word. "I like a Lucas, he's my friend. LUC-AS!" Tim emphasized again, giggling through the name this time.
Nathan just rolled his eyes and worked.
((Nathan Coleman, continued elsewhere))
Nathan guessed what Lucas had to say was not actually important at all, then. He tried to remember what they were talking about before that math problem. Was it the restaurant? Nathan started to think about what he might order next time at his favorite restaurant, and how once he owned a business of his very own, he would feed lots of people to make them happy. Maybe he would even be able to buy that very restaurant instead of having to make his own. Buying a business had to be a lot easier than making one from thin air.
"I can do it," Nathan insisted when Lucas asked him if he needed help. Meatballs and lasagna danced through Nathan's mind when he was trying to think about numbers. He slapped his stomach and frowned until the thoughts went away. He really hoped Mom would take him tonight. "Tim, uh, usually needs more help."
As if summoned by the mention of his name, Tim, who had been quiet for at least a few minutes, scooted his chair around and leaned in uncomfortably close to Lucas, invading the personal space that it was always important to keep with classmates.
"Lucas, you're Lucas! You know we have lots of Lucases, you know? LUK-AS!" Tim said, emphasizing the word. "I like a Lucas, he's my friend. LUC-AS!" Tim emphasized again, giggling through the name this time.
Nathan just rolled his eyes and worked.
((Nathan Coleman, continued elsewhere))
Oh good God that was unexpected. Lucas tried so hard to smile politely, but how could he not cringe?
“Yes, there are a lot of Lucases, I know. I hear that a lot.” He did his utmost best to avoid sounding sarcastic, because Tim didn’t know better of course, but Lucas really wished he could have his space back before this conversation continued.
Still, gritting internally and knowing that he had a job to do, he turned his attention away from his political opponent and focused on his academic arrival’s arithmetic instead.
Finally, it was the end of Friday’s class. Lucas wished he could say it had been a short week, but that would be a lie. He had managed to avoid spending too much time with only Nathan, but he’d still been involved with him and the two had built up something of a rapport.
Well, rapport probably wasn’t the right word. From Nathan’s point of view, their relationship was probably similar to how it was at the start. That is to say, Nathan had no idea how much he’d managed to annoy Lucas. Still, Lucas had gotten past that and could now talk to him on mostly neutral terms. Mostly. They held conversations without Lucas feeling the need to snark, internally or externally, 95% of the time. It wasn’t really fair to take the easy shots at him, anyway.
As the last of the class filed out, Lucas waited behind as Mrs Bautista had requested. There was no doubt she wanted to close off this learning experience with a few questions about what he’d learned.
Fortunately, this was Lucas’ element. He wasn’t having to speak on the spot: he’d had every chance over the week to make notes on what the supposed ‘lesson’ was, and had his stock responses lined up ready to deliver. Getting the emotion behind it would be harder, but he could look apologetic if he tried. Apologetic enough for this farce of a punishment, anyway.
“Well Lucas, thank you for your help this week. Looks like you got along with the class quite well.”
Lucas gave a thankful smile. “Well, I was pretty nervous at first, but once I hung around with them for a while, I realised it wasn’t that hard. I just had to relax and not make a big deal out of talking to them.” Actually, the real trick was just to internalise all that discomfort from people getting up in his face and giving shallow replies. Appease the powers that be.
Mrs Bautista’s neutral response was hard to read, but she wasn’t disapproving at the very least.
“And what about Nathan?”
Lucas took in a breath here, but it was still rehearsed. He wanted her to think that he was composing himself, to show that he’d gotten his knee-jerk responses under control. Again, careful planning was the secret here, because he knew that Nathan was going to be brought up.
“I understand now why people thought I might’ve been insensitive towards him. I would apologise, but I don’t want to bring it up if it didn’t offend him, since he hasn’t mentioned it. I’ve gotten off social media now though, and it’s never going to happen again.”
He would have brought up that he had external circumstances that everyone kept seeming to overlook, but that would’ve made him look like he didn’t truly understand what he’d done wrong.
“I think we’ve gotten to know each other better over the past few days too, and his enthusiasm really is infectious. I think he’ll do a great job as president.”
He gripped his hands on his notebook, trying his hardest not to pull a face at that outright bullshit. Enthusiasm did not make up for complete lack of experience and capability, and by God he wished people could appreciate that. Unfortunately, that had to sit deep down, for now.
He gave a happy, but not overblown, smile for Mrs. Bautista. She rolled the pen in her hand, mulling over his response, before putting it down to the paper she was reviewing.
“Alright. You can go now.”
He hadn’t expected such a curt response, but he didn’t move. He had been hoping that instead the the next part of the conversation could have flown naturally. Oh well.
“Ah, actually, Mrs. Bautista? If it’s alright, I was wondering if there was a way I could keep helping out? If not a daily thing, then perhaps once a week during my study hall? I’m on top of my own schoolwork, and I think I can learn more by continuing here.”
She gave him a quizzical look. He maintained his pleasant smile.
“Maybe I could come in on Wednesdays. The history class lines up with my study time, and you did suggest I’d be good at that.”
He chuckled lightly, but Mrs. Bautista maintained her wary look.
“…Alright. Come in next Wednesday five minutes before the class starts.”
“Thank you very much, Mrs. Bautista. And thanks again for the week, I’m glad I did it.”
He gave her a nod, before grabbing his bag and walking out the room.
“Yes, there are a lot of Lucases, I know. I hear that a lot.” He did his utmost best to avoid sounding sarcastic, because Tim didn’t know better of course, but Lucas really wished he could have his space back before this conversation continued.
Still, gritting internally and knowing that he had a job to do, he turned his attention away from his political opponent and focused on his academic arrival’s arithmetic instead.
Finally, it was the end of Friday’s class. Lucas wished he could say it had been a short week, but that would be a lie. He had managed to avoid spending too much time with only Nathan, but he’d still been involved with him and the two had built up something of a rapport.
Well, rapport probably wasn’t the right word. From Nathan’s point of view, their relationship was probably similar to how it was at the start. That is to say, Nathan had no idea how much he’d managed to annoy Lucas. Still, Lucas had gotten past that and could now talk to him on mostly neutral terms. Mostly. They held conversations without Lucas feeling the need to snark, internally or externally, 95% of the time. It wasn’t really fair to take the easy shots at him, anyway.
As the last of the class filed out, Lucas waited behind as Mrs Bautista had requested. There was no doubt she wanted to close off this learning experience with a few questions about what he’d learned.
Fortunately, this was Lucas’ element. He wasn’t having to speak on the spot: he’d had every chance over the week to make notes on what the supposed ‘lesson’ was, and had his stock responses lined up ready to deliver. Getting the emotion behind it would be harder, but he could look apologetic if he tried. Apologetic enough for this farce of a punishment, anyway.
“Well Lucas, thank you for your help this week. Looks like you got along with the class quite well.”
Lucas gave a thankful smile. “Well, I was pretty nervous at first, but once I hung around with them for a while, I realised it wasn’t that hard. I just had to relax and not make a big deal out of talking to them.” Actually, the real trick was just to internalise all that discomfort from people getting up in his face and giving shallow replies. Appease the powers that be.
Mrs Bautista’s neutral response was hard to read, but she wasn’t disapproving at the very least.
“And what about Nathan?”
Lucas took in a breath here, but it was still rehearsed. He wanted her to think that he was composing himself, to show that he’d gotten his knee-jerk responses under control. Again, careful planning was the secret here, because he knew that Nathan was going to be brought up.
“I understand now why people thought I might’ve been insensitive towards him. I would apologise, but I don’t want to bring it up if it didn’t offend him, since he hasn’t mentioned it. I’ve gotten off social media now though, and it’s never going to happen again.”
He would have brought up that he had external circumstances that everyone kept seeming to overlook, but that would’ve made him look like he didn’t truly understand what he’d done wrong.
“I think we’ve gotten to know each other better over the past few days too, and his enthusiasm really is infectious. I think he’ll do a great job as president.”
He gripped his hands on his notebook, trying his hardest not to pull a face at that outright bullshit. Enthusiasm did not make up for complete lack of experience and capability, and by God he wished people could appreciate that. Unfortunately, that had to sit deep down, for now.
He gave a happy, but not overblown, smile for Mrs. Bautista. She rolled the pen in her hand, mulling over his response, before putting it down to the paper she was reviewing.
“Alright. You can go now.”
He hadn’t expected such a curt response, but he didn’t move. He had been hoping that instead the the next part of the conversation could have flown naturally. Oh well.
“Ah, actually, Mrs. Bautista? If it’s alright, I was wondering if there was a way I could keep helping out? If not a daily thing, then perhaps once a week during my study hall? I’m on top of my own schoolwork, and I think I can learn more by continuing here.”
She gave him a quizzical look. He maintained his pleasant smile.
“Maybe I could come in on Wednesdays. The history class lines up with my study time, and you did suggest I’d be good at that.”
He chuckled lightly, but Mrs. Bautista maintained her wary look.
“…Alright. Come in next Wednesday five minutes before the class starts.”
“Thank you very much, Mrs. Bautista. And thanks again for the week, I’m glad I did it.”
He gave her a nod, before grabbing his bag and walking out the room.