It made it worse. A heck of a lot worse. We ended up sitting in a room full of teachers who were trying to comprehend my situation.
“Are you sure that you’ve never been schooled?” A balding old guy with goggles leaned in intensively.
“Oh, sure I have. I got schooled on videogames like way back.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, obviously unaccustomed to dealing with idiots. “Let me rephrase that…have you ever been educated?”
“I educated myself.” I said defiantly.
He shook his head. “No, that’s not how it works.”
I settled back in my chair. “No, that’s not how it works…up here.” I corrected them.
Another teacher broke in. “You, like, know your ABCs, right?”
“I can rap my ABCs.” I gave her a lidded stare. “Can you?”
Finally, the main man, presumably the principal broke in with the final say. “I have a headache. We’ll deal with this later. Put this guy in the normal set of classes for now.” And that was it. And nobody took a note to review me later. I love the system.
The kids in my class stared at me like I was from another planet. Life had been discovered in three neighboring systems, but I didn’t look remotely like an alien, even with my metal limbs (which none of them had seen even). The introduction hadn’t helped.
“This is Nathan.” The teacher had said. “He has never set foot inside a classroom before, so don’t beat him up or anything.”
I refrained from standing atop a chair and yelling “IT’S NATE ACTUALLY.” The thought did cross my mind, though.
The person sitting next to me kind of gave me a cocked look that let me know I was her new science experiment, and I felt something wash over me. It made me want to convulse. Unfortunately for me, only half my body was programmed to properly convulse, so it’s kind of an awkward sight. I stifled it.
The teacher kind of left me out of every exercise till the lunchbreak, and then called me over before I could make good my escape. “Nathan, can we talk?”
“I think you just successfully demonstrated your ability to do so.” I said.
She didn’t get my sarcasm. That was okay. As long as people didn’t get my sarcasm I’d be okay. Once they did, it’d be kind of wasted.
“Look, how do you want me to treat you?” She asked.
“To ice cream, preferably.”
“You can get some of that at the cafeteria.” She waved her hand.
All of a sudden, school seemed worth it.
“I mean, how would you like me to integrate you? How much of the material this morning did you understand?”
I shrugged. “I was doing okay up till ‘guys, this is Nathan,’ and then I kind of lost it.”
“I’m going to give you a truckload of books to take home. How does that sound?”
“Wonderful.” I said, imaging the stacking and fire-starting possibilities that many books presented.
“All on this.” She held up an electric device.
That presented a lot less possibilities.
She held up a paper manual. “This’ll help you get the hang of it.”
I brightened back up. As long as I got to burn something.
“Okay, I’ll transfer all the books by tonight. Be back here by one, Nathan.”
“It’s Nate.” I said.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She said, but didn’t make a note.
I had forty-five minutes left to locate lunch. I hurried outside, and instantly got dragged along in a current of bodies that could only be compared with the rapids in the Grand Canyon. I was squeezed, buffeted, and ultimately spit out into a side room to escape the crush. I adjusted my glove as I stood there in the semi dark, trying to compose myself before facing the horde again. Then I noticed a kid who was sitting in the corner staring at me cold and hard.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this was your cell.” I said, and left. I don’t try and understand people. I dare them to try and understand me.
Not even kidding, that kid in the corner would totally be me irl...
I managed to drop a weight on my good foot, and ended up in the ward with a bruised sense of pride and some trauma.
August picked me up early. “That bad, huh?”
“I don’t think I can learn under these conditions.” I said. “Have you given homeschooling a thought?”
“No.” She said, in a way that informed me she wasn’t going to either.
“Well, anyways, I got a free tablet thingy.” I said, fishing around in my school backpack they had given me. It was cheap and flimsy. It was also the first backpack I’d ever owned.
She inspected it, firing up the screen. “That’s quite the reading list.”
“You know; I’ve been having troubles falling asleep at night. I don’t think I’ll have to worry about that anymore.”
She kind of silently chuckled. “Nate, you’re a character.”
“In what?” I said. “Some sort of sadistic story where I get uprooted from my home and family graves to come here and have a nervous breakdown?”
“Are you going to hyperventilate?”
“I don’t know. What’s hyperventilating?” I asked, my voice cracking.
“You’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be dead. This much information and socialization can kill a guy.” I waved a weak finger at her.
“This’ll make you appreciate weekends.”
“I don’t think they’re going to be that great. I’ll always know what’s on the other side.”
Oh my bricks the fourth wall break... XD
Also, that last line about the weekends is 100% me!
I had my first human interaction with a peer later that day. The girl next to me leaned over, smack-dab in the middle of a Chemistry lab that I attentively ignoring. “What’s your name?”
“She told you yesterday.” I said, suddenly interested in the test tubes before me.
“Yeah, well, I forgot.” She said. “What’s your name?” She asked again.
“Gregory Firth.”
“That wasn’t it.” She glared at me.
I rolled my eyes. “Nate.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Nate.” She whispered, since we were, after all, still in class.
And then there was a blessed thirty seconds of silence.
“Well, aren’t you going to ask my name?”
I scratched at the back of my hand. “No, I wasn’t really planning on it.” Another thirty seconds of intense staring on her part and intense ignoring on mine. I finally caved in. “You really want to tell me, don’t you?”
“It’s Julianna.” She provided, almost before I finished speaking. “But I go by Argo.”
“Cause that makes all sorts of sense.” I said. “You’ve already got two names mashed together in your first, might as well go by a third.”
“Do you have to try and be a jerk, or does it come naturally?”
“I’m just socially inept. It’s a disability.” I said.
“Where are you from?”
“A really bad place. I liked it there.” A bit of a smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
“You don’t live there anymore?”
“I live in a nice place now. I hate it.”
Suddenly the teacher’s voice cut through out little chat. “Have you two gotten nice and introduced?”
I stood up. I dramatically pointed at Julianna/Argo. “She started it, ma’am! I’m just a victim.” I sat back down, and hoped I’d ticked her off enough to leave me alone from now on.
Almost every bit of this interaction is absolutely me... XD
December found me a guy. She didn’t know him personally, but he had some good shop reviews online. Didn’t mention anything about cyborgs, but that wasn’t necessarily something you advertised.
He was closed the next day, but the only ones open were the chain repair shops, who would be run by some jerk in overalls and a welding mask, who undoubtedly would gawk at my leg like he’d never seen one before, which he likely hadn’t. Which means he would be in no way qualified to make repairs.
I stuck it out till Monday, beating designs into a bow almost all day. December popped in and out, watching with conflicting interest and boredom.
“You’re not playing that game right.” She finally remarked. “You should be doing something exciting.”
“I am.” I said. “I’m making a weapon.”
“How many of those do you need?” She asked, gesturing the nearby wall which had some serviceable swords strung up.
“This one’s for money.”
She blinked. “People pay you…for an in-game item?”
“Yep.”
“How much?”
“Depends on the weapon. It’s in game currency anyways.”
“Oh.” She said, disappointed.
“The game has a more stable economy than most countries.” I said, tapping in a line using a small hammer and what was, in essence, a metal toothpick. “They convert it out to whatever coin you need.”
“I wanna play.” She said.
I didn’t miss a beat. “I don’t want you too.”
She started braiding a few of her dreadlocks together. “Why?”
“It’s a rough community.” I said. “It changes a person.”
“I’m tough.” She protested, sitting there with her fluffy purple scarf wrapped around her neck.
“You’d be a butterfly on a freeway there.” I logged out of the game, turning off my gear. “Let’s watch a movie or something.”
“How about ‘Apocalypse: Chainsaw Gang.’” She grinned like a maniac.
“How about ‘Moana’?” I countered, heading downstairs.
“You’re the wimp here.” She said, but did end up watching the old Disney film.
I love how you mentioned the scarf to counter her claim to being tough! Outstanding move!
I just had to make it through the day. I was up at 7. Let’s see…class would get out at two…I’d skip practice, of course. I could go straight to the shop then. Just…seven hours.
The day dragged like my foot. People stared but never asked. Thank goodness. I grabbed a tray for lunch, maneuvered my way through the line, getting all the worst stuff cause that’s the mood I was in. And then I found a table at the very back and I hunched over my food glaring down anybody who so much as glanced at my table.
The loudspeaker was spouting stats from this weekend’s matches. What an aberration. I wondered briefly if there was a way to turn it down.
People would sporadically cheer, and throw food. What an excitable load of dipwads. There was a big four-sided screen hanging from the ceiling that had more attention than the meal. Some people would miss their mouths with their silverware, they were staring at it so intently.
Finally, our match showed up. I watched it, hunched over my food. A small video recap. Four straight kills for squad #62. My death scene was briefly flashed. The room exploded.
Turns out I was a school meme now. Kids were slapping each other on the shoulder, and more than a few fingers pointed me out. There went anonymity.
Seemed pretty accurate. Everybody else had these fancy names. The rest of my squad had 81 affixed to the end of their usernames. “@tacks181,” “DeadBeat81” and “Argo2781.” I briefly pictured my gamer tag, “Nexo” up there, but then I shook my head. That would make me seem like I cared. My goal here was to get in and out of that horrid program as quickly as possible.
I felt something bounce off my head. I turned around slowly. Somebody hollered “NICE STATS” which set off a chorus of abuse from the cafeteria crowd.
“I KNOW, RIGHT?” I yelled back, and turned around.
I managed to drop a weight on my good foot, and ended up in the ward with a bruised sense of pride and some trauma.
August picked me up early. “That bad, huh?”
“I don’t think I can learn under these conditions.” I said. “Have you given homeschooling a thought?”
“No.” She said, in a way that informed me she wasn’t going to either.
“Well, anyways, I got a free tablet thingy.” I said, fishing around in my school backpack they had given me. It was cheap and flimsy. It was also the first backpack I’d ever owned.
She inspected it, firing up the screen. “That’s quite the reading list.”
“You know; I’ve been having troubles falling asleep at night. I don’t think I’ll have to worry about that anymore.”
She kind of silently chuckled. “Nate, you’re a character.”
“In what?” I said. “Some sort of sadistic story where I get uprooted from my home and family graves to come here and have a nervous breakdown?”
“Are you going to hyperventilate?”
“I don’t know. What’s hyperventilating?” I asked, my voice cracking.
“You’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be dead. This much information and socialization can kill a guy.” I waved a weak finger at her.
“This’ll make you appreciate weekends.”
“I don’t think they’re going to be that great. I’ll always know what’s on the other side.”
Oh my bricks the fourth wall break... XD
Also, that last line about the weekends is 100% me!
It made it worse. A heck of a lot worse. We ended up sitting in a room full of teachers who were trying to comprehend my situation.
“Are you sure that you’ve never been schooled?” A balding old guy with goggles leaned in intensively.
“Oh, sure I have. I got schooled on videogames like way back.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose, obviously unaccustomed to dealing with idiots. “Let me rephrase that…have you ever been educated?”
“I educated myself.” I said defiantly.
He shook his head. “No, that’s not how it works.”
I settled back in my chair. “No, that’s not how it works…up here.” I corrected them.
Another teacher broke in. “You, like, know your ABCs, right?”
“I can rap my ABCs.” I gave her a lidded stare. “Can you?”
Finally, the main man, presumably the principal broke in with the final say. “I have a headache. We’ll deal with this later. Put this guy in the normal set of classes for now.” And that was it. And nobody took a note to review me later. I love the system.
The next day was all about saying no. Did I want new clothes? No. Did I want to see the city? No. Did you know you’re going to have to go to school? No. That one came as a shocker.
“School?” I choked out once I was upstairs.
December, who was hanging around my room like she owned it, picked at her nails. “Of course. We’re not going to break off your education just cause of the move.”
“No-no-no-no-no-no-NO!” I rubbed my temples, feeling the synthesized skin rub against the metal underneath. “This can’t be happening. No. Just no. Can’t do it.”
“You’re acting like education is a foreign concept to you.” She sneered, biting at a nail finally.
“It brickin is!” I snarled back.
“Huh, what?” She asked, sitting up now, nails forgotten.
I buried my head in my hands, but then jumped up to kick at a shirt lying on the floor. “I never went to school.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re a heathen.”
“That’s not what that word means.”
“Illegitimate.”
“Yes, but still no.”
“Illiterate.” She finally reached.
I shook my head. “No, I’m not. There’s a whole brickin’ internet out there. I learned to read when I was four.”
That fact seemed to cool her jets a bit. “Math?”
“One plus one equals eleven.” I grinned cockily.
“Seven times nine?” She shot back, dead serious.
“Sixty-three.” I replied. “Look, I got the basics down. Brick, nobody over there ain’t got that. We just saved ourselves hundreds of hours and some public salaries and all taught ourselves.”
“You’re dead meat.” She said. “They’ll pick you apart like vultures.”
“They?”
“Teachers. Students. The janitor. Everybody.” She waved her arm expansively, almost knocking off a lamp.
“Oh, well, good, nothing to worry about then.” I rolled my eyes. “Guess it’s time to play my ace.”
“And that is?”
“I show your mom the arm and she’ll freak out and send me back home.”
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