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- 02/01/2015
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Not Done Yet - 8. How It's Supposed To Be
How It’s Supposed to Be
Second period was chemistry class, and Casey was late for the first day of class. As he rounded the corner in the hall, the bell rang. The classroom door was just ahead of him as he scurried along to get inside ASAP. If he weren’t too late, it would take a hard-hearted teacher to make a big deal of it. Just as he reached the door, a teacher stepped into the hall to close it. Wide-eyed, Casey barely stopped before plowing right into him. Casey stood five foot ten, and towered over the man in front of him.
“Oh, good, the first example for the semester. Come along, young man, come inside.” Walking into the room, followed by Casey, the teacher addressed the class. “Good morning, everyone. My name is Matthew Cullen, and I’ll be your instructor for Chemistry One.” He stopped and spotted Casey in a seat near the center of the room. He waved for Casey to stand. “And you, sir, what is your name?”
“Casey Donovan, sir.”
Mr. Cullen was a little less than average height, but under the white dress shirt and casual slacks, he was fit, and wore his clothes well. His glasses were rimless, with rectangular lenses, and his hair was medium length, brown, and well kept. He moved and spoke confidently, and his focus was now all on Casey.
“Let us start at the beginning, shall we? Mr. Donovan did not arrive before the beginning of class, so on a normal class day, you would be shortchanged on classroom instruction while we waited for him, or distracted when he burst into the classroom. Mr. Donovan, why were you late this morning, please?”
“I’m sorry, sir, I couldn’t find your classroom. I turned the wrong direction in the hallway.”
“Can you remember how to get here in the future, Mr. Donovan? I mean, now that you’ve found us this once?”
“I think so, sir, but I’ll make sure before the next class.”
Mr. Cullen looked at Casey for a second, and said, “Thank you, Mr. Donovan. You may sit down. Class, please show your classmates and me the courtesy of arriving on time. I also ask that you pay attention, or at the least, don’t disrupt the class. This will become more important when we go into the lab. Please believe me – your personal safety is of great concern, and the laboratory is a serious place, full of wonders and hazards, both. I wouldn’t want you to miss the one, or suffer the other.”
Walking back to his desk, the teacher turned around, pointed at the student in the back right corner of the class. “Beginning with you, miss, please stand and introduce yourself to the class.”
When the girl stood, Casey took note, and picked up his pencil. She had beautiful skin and bright eyes, and spoke clearly, so all could hear. When she spoke, he wrote down the name, Sara Conner. When she sat, she glanced his way, and Casey caught the cornflower blue of her eyes and a nice smile, and he admired the dark hair she pulled behind her shoulders.
Casey set down his pen and quietly said to himself, “I think I found a lab partner.”
*
“I like Coach Robertson. He called me into his office, and asked me about trying out for baseball.” The light turned green, and Casey looked both ways before he took his foot off the brake.
“How do you feel about that?” Jim scanned the road. Casey thought he was doing OK behind the wheel, but being a new driver, a second set of eyes on the traffic was welcome.
“I love baseball, but I never stayed in one place long enough to be on a team.” They slowed and pulled alongside the curb. Casey unbuckled his seat belt, but Jim sat still in his seat, gazing at the boy next to him.
“And?”
“Tryouts are next month. After that, practice starts in a week, every night. They won’t get serious until positions are assigned.” Casey started to look a little worried, while Jim kept his eyes on him.
“Uh-huh?”
“Jim?”
“Casey?”
“Jim!”
“Casey!”
“Is it alright?!”
“Is what alright? The school doesn’t need my permission to have tryouts and practice.” Jim’s eyes were starting to glitter, while he played dumb. The boy put his hands on the steering wheel, and slowly banged his head against the horn. It never seemed to get any easier, but in a way, he liked this game. Casey had never known an adult who was anywhere near as playful as Jim. The funny thing was, though, he always learned something from these exchanges. Right then, he realized he’d never answered Jim’s question directly – how did he feel about trying out for the team?
Casey took a deep breath and let it out. He looked at Jim, and they both started to grin. He began to laugh as he said, “Jim, may I try out for the baseball team? I really want to.”
Jim reached up and cupped the back of Casey’s neck, and gently shook the kid back and forth a couple of times, while they both laughed. “Can you get me tickets to your games? Carol’s always after me to take her out, and I’d like to do something besides going to a movie in Austin.”
“I may have to get ‘em off a scalper, but I’m pretty sure I can make it happen.”
“Scalpers? In Bastrop? For a high school baseball game? This town’s gettin’ too big. Football, I can understand; this IS Texas. But baseball?” Jim unbuckled his seat belt and looked at Casey ‘til he couldn’t keep a straight face anymore. “Sure. Let’s talk about it some more when you know more, K? Now, c’mon, let’s get the cake and get home.”
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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