TR part 3
Authors: Marina and Casey
Story: Taking Root
Challenge: Coconut 19 (we need to talk), Milk Chocolate 4 (initiative) [Marina]; Blueberry Yogurt 8 (an inconvenience), Chocolate Chip Mint 24 (flexible), Mocha 11 (why didn’t I think of that) [Casey]
Toppings/Extras: Caramel, Chopped Nuts, Smoothie
Word Count: 1,619
Rating: PG
Summary: [September] Chase approaches Sorin with a question, while Dean meets up with his first obstacle.
Notes: The bullies in Dean’s half of this piece also belong to the NIEEverse. (Counts for the Summer Challenge for today.)
The next day, close to the end of first period, Chase shuffled his way toward the woodshop in search of Mr. Dakamar. He poked his head into the room and spotted the man at one of the workbenches, a hammer in one hand and some wood spread out in front of him. Beyond him, a group of students chattered busily as they cleaned up.
Chase stepped inside, hesitating a moment as he approached the teacher. "Mr. Dakamar?"
He looked up and smiled. "Hello." He paused for just a second, squinting. "It's Chase, right?"
Impressed that he had remembered, Chase nodded. "Yeah, hi."
Mr. Dakamar set down the hammer, still smiling, turning to face Chase fully. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Yeah, um, I was just wondering...I have a TA period for first period and I haven't been able to find a teacher who needs one yet. So I was wondering if you did." He refrained from adding the real reason why-most of the teachers he felt even remotely comfortable with already had a TA, leaving him with few options.
Mr. Dakamar blinked, looking surprised for a minute, before nodding slowly. "Actually, I do have a beginning class first period. I could probably use an extra set of experienced hands."
At the word 'experienced,' Chase brightened. "Really?"
"Really," he said, before wiping his hands on his pants and gesturing. "If you have a minute, I can show you what they're going to be working on first."
"Yeah, sure!" Chase hurried forward, pulling a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. "I need to get this filled out and turn it in to the office, but there's still like ten minutes before the period ends so no rush, I guess."
Mr. Dakamar headed over to his desk, shuffling through some a pile of papers for a minute before coming up with the one he wanted. He grinned easily. "I'll trade you. You look at this while I fill out your sheet."
"Deal." Chase could not help grinning back as he accepted the assignment sheet.
His teacher sat down in the chair and started filling out Chase's TA form, glancing up occasionally as if to gauge Chase's response to the assignment. "Oh yeah, this'll be easy," Chase said, when he had finished. "They're not even going to use hammers. Glue's just as important 'cause it needs to be done carefully and that should totally come before nails."
At this, Mr. Dakamar appraised him a bit more seriously, nodding. "Exactly what I was thinking. Also, if you wouldn't mind, I'd be interested in getting a better idea of the sorts of things Mr. Walker did, especially in the beginning class."
"I can show you some of the stuff I did. I took Beginning and Intermediate with him before you came, so."
"I would appreciate that," he said warmly.
Chase smiled. "Okay. D'you want me to keep this?"
"That would be great. And...done, here you go," he said, offering Chase his paper back and glancing at the clock. "And you should have just enough time to get that to the office before your next class."
"Thanks, Mr. D." Chase began to skip out of the room before he realized just what he had said. He turned back around, flushing. "Um, is it cool if I call you Mr. D?"
"Just fine. I know Dakamar can be a bit of a mouthful."
He nodded. "I remember you said that. Okay. See you later."
"See you in a couple periods, Chase," the man said with a smile, turning back to his desk. Chase beamed and hurried on his way.
***
Dean went into the second day of classes feeling good-very good-but he should have known that the feeling would not last. It rarely did, after all. Something always got in the way.
Apparently news traveled fast at MHS because he was just pulling his gym shirt on over his head when a hand shoved him hard into his locker. He turned, protest on his lips, but stopped as he took in the five muscular boys arrayed against him.
“Your father’s the new Woodshop teacher.”
Dean nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“We don’t like new kids.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Dean said, careful to keep his voice calm.
The lead boy, a curly haired kid and probably a senior at Dean’s best estimate, shoved his shoulder again. “You bet it is.”
Dean gritted his teeth. He was no stranger to bullying-as long as he could remember, other kids had picked on him for various reasons, whatever suited them on any particular day. It could be anything from the fact he did not have a mother to the fact that his father taught him at home to the fact he smiled at the wrong time. Most of the time, they hardly needed one at all.
He had hoped that MHS and Madison in general would be different, that he and his dad would have a real chance here. A positive chance. “Of course not,” he muttered more to himself than the bullies.
“What did you say?” the curly haired boy said, but then the gym teacher poked his head into the locker room and bellowed for them to get their rears out into the gym, saving Dean for the moment.
By the time gym ended, he felt miserable. Despite the teacher’s intervention in the locker room, the bullying continued through the rest of class. Curly hair, whose name turned out to be Karl, had a lot of friends in the class. They took every opportunity to trip him or elbow him or otherwise make his life miserable.
To add insult to injury, gym went straight through to the bell, leaving Dean with barely enough time to change before his next class. He considered stopping in at the woodshop to say hello to his father, but ended up losing his way. By the time he made it to AP Statistics, he could hardly remember his own name.
"Dean!" He jumped and looked around, not recognizing the voice. "Over here, silly!" Carrie called, waving at him from a seat in the second row.
Instantly, he felt his spirits lift as he went over and slid into a seat next to her. "Hey! I didn't know you were in this class!"
"I didn't notice you yesterday, either." She grinned at him. "Shame on us."
"Well, we hadn't officially met at this point yesterday," Dean said easily, finding himself grinning back despite how crappy the previous period had been.
"That's true. How are you?"
"Not bad. Still adjusting," he said, only lying a little.
"Totally fair," Carrie said.
"Yeah, how about you?"
Her eyes twinkled a bit. "I wish I was still in bed, but I'm fine."
Dean let out a laugh before he could think about it. "Tell me about it! One advantage of homeschooling, I think."
"How late did you use to sleep in?"
"Sometime around eight, depending on the day. Sometimes later!"
"Wow. You call eight sleeping in? I go until noon or later during the summer."
"Well, it's later then I get to sleep now! Especially with my dad being a teacher and all," he pointed out.
"True," she agreed. "How does he like it so far?"
"He loves it. He loves sharing the stuff he knows with other people."
"That's great. Has he ever taught before or is this his first time?"
"He did back before I was born and my first couple years, but he quit after my mom died," he said with an easy shrug.
Carrie nodded, not pressing the point. "Well, I'm glad he went back to it. It sounds like he's good and that he likes it."
"Me too! He's been really happy ever since he got news that he had the job."
"That's awesome."
"It really is," Dean said. He felt slightly guilty about sugar coating the account of his life, even if he had known Carrie less than a full day. Something about her just...he just knew he could trust her.
She smiled, seemingly oblivious to his inner conflict. "So, did you do the homework?"
Dean nodded, glad to be on more solid ground. "Yeah. Looks like this class will be interesting, at least."
"I think so too. Less painful than Calculus, anyway."
"Yeah. I thought about it but decided if I'm going to take that plunge, I'll do it next year."
"Same. I was in Pre-Calc Honors last year and didn't like it that much."
"Really? It seems unnecessarily complicated to me, even though I generally like math."
Carrie nodded in agreement. "I liked Algebra and Geometry, but Trig was more difficult."
"Agreed," Dean said, smiling as he realized that he had relaxed completely after the catastrophe that had been gym.
The bell rang, signaling the beginning of class. Carrie smiled again and produced a binder with a page of pencil sketches tucked inside its plastic cover. "Boo, settle down time," she said, sounding a little wistful.
Dean blinked. He knew he should start paying attention, but the binder had sparked his curiosity. "Did you draw those?" he asked, gesturing.
Carrie glanced at the teacher. Seeing that he had just begun to gather up some papers and a piece of chalk, she turned back to Dean quickly. "Yeah."
"They're really awesome!"
"Thanks," she said, grinning quickly.
"All right, kids," the teacher began, attempting to claim their attention. "Pass up last night's homework and turn to section 1.2 so we can get started." Dean fished out his homework and his notebook and forced himself to focus, although he could not help watching Carrie out of the corner of his eye.
Story: Taking Root
Challenge: Coconut 19 (we need to talk), Milk Chocolate 4 (initiative) [Marina]; Blueberry Yogurt 8 (an inconvenience), Chocolate Chip Mint 24 (flexible), Mocha 11 (why didn’t I think of that) [Casey]
Toppings/Extras: Caramel, Chopped Nuts, Smoothie
Word Count: 1,619
Rating: PG
Summary: [September] Chase approaches Sorin with a question, while Dean meets up with his first obstacle.
Notes: The bullies in Dean’s half of this piece also belong to the NIEEverse. (Counts for the Summer Challenge for today.)
The next day, close to the end of first period, Chase shuffled his way toward the woodshop in search of Mr. Dakamar. He poked his head into the room and spotted the man at one of the workbenches, a hammer in one hand and some wood spread out in front of him. Beyond him, a group of students chattered busily as they cleaned up.
Chase stepped inside, hesitating a moment as he approached the teacher. "Mr. Dakamar?"
He looked up and smiled. "Hello." He paused for just a second, squinting. "It's Chase, right?"
Impressed that he had remembered, Chase nodded. "Yeah, hi."
Mr. Dakamar set down the hammer, still smiling, turning to face Chase fully. "Is there something I can help you with?"
"Yeah, um, I was just wondering...I have a TA period for first period and I haven't been able to find a teacher who needs one yet. So I was wondering if you did." He refrained from adding the real reason why-most of the teachers he felt even remotely comfortable with already had a TA, leaving him with few options.
Mr. Dakamar blinked, looking surprised for a minute, before nodding slowly. "Actually, I do have a beginning class first period. I could probably use an extra set of experienced hands."
At the word 'experienced,' Chase brightened. "Really?"
"Really," he said, before wiping his hands on his pants and gesturing. "If you have a minute, I can show you what they're going to be working on first."
"Yeah, sure!" Chase hurried forward, pulling a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. "I need to get this filled out and turn it in to the office, but there's still like ten minutes before the period ends so no rush, I guess."
Mr. Dakamar headed over to his desk, shuffling through some a pile of papers for a minute before coming up with the one he wanted. He grinned easily. "I'll trade you. You look at this while I fill out your sheet."
"Deal." Chase could not help grinning back as he accepted the assignment sheet.
His teacher sat down in the chair and started filling out Chase's TA form, glancing up occasionally as if to gauge Chase's response to the assignment. "Oh yeah, this'll be easy," Chase said, when he had finished. "They're not even going to use hammers. Glue's just as important 'cause it needs to be done carefully and that should totally come before nails."
At this, Mr. Dakamar appraised him a bit more seriously, nodding. "Exactly what I was thinking. Also, if you wouldn't mind, I'd be interested in getting a better idea of the sorts of things Mr. Walker did, especially in the beginning class."
"I can show you some of the stuff I did. I took Beginning and Intermediate with him before you came, so."
"I would appreciate that," he said warmly.
Chase smiled. "Okay. D'you want me to keep this?"
"That would be great. And...done, here you go," he said, offering Chase his paper back and glancing at the clock. "And you should have just enough time to get that to the office before your next class."
"Thanks, Mr. D." Chase began to skip out of the room before he realized just what he had said. He turned back around, flushing. "Um, is it cool if I call you Mr. D?"
"Just fine. I know Dakamar can be a bit of a mouthful."
He nodded. "I remember you said that. Okay. See you later."
"See you in a couple periods, Chase," the man said with a smile, turning back to his desk. Chase beamed and hurried on his way.
***
Dean went into the second day of classes feeling good-very good-but he should have known that the feeling would not last. It rarely did, after all. Something always got in the way.
Apparently news traveled fast at MHS because he was just pulling his gym shirt on over his head when a hand shoved him hard into his locker. He turned, protest on his lips, but stopped as he took in the five muscular boys arrayed against him.
“Your father’s the new Woodshop teacher.”
Dean nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“We don’t like new kids.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Dean said, careful to keep his voice calm.
The lead boy, a curly haired kid and probably a senior at Dean’s best estimate, shoved his shoulder again. “You bet it is.”
Dean gritted his teeth. He was no stranger to bullying-as long as he could remember, other kids had picked on him for various reasons, whatever suited them on any particular day. It could be anything from the fact he did not have a mother to the fact that his father taught him at home to the fact he smiled at the wrong time. Most of the time, they hardly needed one at all.
He had hoped that MHS and Madison in general would be different, that he and his dad would have a real chance here. A positive chance. “Of course not,” he muttered more to himself than the bullies.
“What did you say?” the curly haired boy said, but then the gym teacher poked his head into the locker room and bellowed for them to get their rears out into the gym, saving Dean for the moment.
By the time gym ended, he felt miserable. Despite the teacher’s intervention in the locker room, the bullying continued through the rest of class. Curly hair, whose name turned out to be Karl, had a lot of friends in the class. They took every opportunity to trip him or elbow him or otherwise make his life miserable.
To add insult to injury, gym went straight through to the bell, leaving Dean with barely enough time to change before his next class. He considered stopping in at the woodshop to say hello to his father, but ended up losing his way. By the time he made it to AP Statistics, he could hardly remember his own name.
"Dean!" He jumped and looked around, not recognizing the voice. "Over here, silly!" Carrie called, waving at him from a seat in the second row.
Instantly, he felt his spirits lift as he went over and slid into a seat next to her. "Hey! I didn't know you were in this class!"
"I didn't notice you yesterday, either." She grinned at him. "Shame on us."
"Well, we hadn't officially met at this point yesterday," Dean said easily, finding himself grinning back despite how crappy the previous period had been.
"That's true. How are you?"
"Not bad. Still adjusting," he said, only lying a little.
"Totally fair," Carrie said.
"Yeah, how about you?"
Her eyes twinkled a bit. "I wish I was still in bed, but I'm fine."
Dean let out a laugh before he could think about it. "Tell me about it! One advantage of homeschooling, I think."
"How late did you use to sleep in?"
"Sometime around eight, depending on the day. Sometimes later!"
"Wow. You call eight sleeping in? I go until noon or later during the summer."
"Well, it's later then I get to sleep now! Especially with my dad being a teacher and all," he pointed out.
"True," she agreed. "How does he like it so far?"
"He loves it. He loves sharing the stuff he knows with other people."
"That's great. Has he ever taught before or is this his first time?"
"He did back before I was born and my first couple years, but he quit after my mom died," he said with an easy shrug.
Carrie nodded, not pressing the point. "Well, I'm glad he went back to it. It sounds like he's good and that he likes it."
"Me too! He's been really happy ever since he got news that he had the job."
"That's awesome."
"It really is," Dean said. He felt slightly guilty about sugar coating the account of his life, even if he had known Carrie less than a full day. Something about her just...he just knew he could trust her.
She smiled, seemingly oblivious to his inner conflict. "So, did you do the homework?"
Dean nodded, glad to be on more solid ground. "Yeah. Looks like this class will be interesting, at least."
"I think so too. Less painful than Calculus, anyway."
"Yeah. I thought about it but decided if I'm going to take that plunge, I'll do it next year."
"Same. I was in Pre-Calc Honors last year and didn't like it that much."
"Really? It seems unnecessarily complicated to me, even though I generally like math."
Carrie nodded in agreement. "I liked Algebra and Geometry, but Trig was more difficult."
"Agreed," Dean said, smiling as he realized that he had relaxed completely after the catastrophe that had been gym.
The bell rang, signaling the beginning of class. Carrie smiled again and produced a binder with a page of pencil sketches tucked inside its plastic cover. "Boo, settle down time," she said, sounding a little wistful.
Dean blinked. He knew he should start paying attention, but the binder had sparked his curiosity. "Did you draw those?" he asked, gesturing.
Carrie glanced at the teacher. Seeing that he had just begun to gather up some papers and a piece of chalk, she turned back to Dean quickly. "Yeah."
"They're really awesome!"
"Thanks," she said, grinning quickly.
"All right, kids," the teacher began, attempting to claim their attention. "Pass up last night's homework and turn to section 1.2 so we can get started." Dean fished out his homework and his notebook and forced himself to focus, although he could not help watching Carrie out of the corner of his eye.