Chapter 1: Meet Joe Covington

Hi! My name is Joseph William Covington, Joe to my friends; well it would be if I actually had any. Still, I prefer Joe to Joseph, William, Joey, Willy or Billy, but even they are better than spaz, dork, geek, nerd, or several other derogatory phrases that have been used in reference to me throughout the years. If you are starting to get the idea that I might be just a tad bit bitter, then congratulations, because you are obviously smarter than the consensus.

Although I personally find my life to be rather boring and unpretentious, you wouldn't be able to truly understand this story if I didn't supply a bit of background information, so here goes!

I am a brain. Now, I don't mean that I merely possess an above average IQ; no sir, I am talking about your off-the-charts, smartest person in the room, can ace any test thrown my way, certified genius-level brain. So why am I still merely a freshman high school student? Well, that would be my parent's' doing or, more precisely, my mother's. She worried that if I advanced too quickly I wouldn't have anything in common with my peers. Well, she was right, I don't but, by the same token, I can't believe that I would have all that much less in common with college kids, or graduate students either, so why I was still wasting my time in this crummy hellhole was beyond me.

Though I started high school at thirteen, I could have easily tested out at nine. With my fourteenth birthday a mere twenty-four hours away, I felt more isolated than ever. It seemed I couldn't even make friends through tutoring because, the few times I attempted it, I ended up being more confusing to my classmates than their regular instructors were. Well, why should that have been of any big surprise? I was always smarter than they were, and everybody knew it, including my teachers. That did little to endear me to either facility or students, so I was a loner, obviously.

At this point, you are probably thinking at least my parents would respect me. Wrong again!!! My father was a military colonel who always had to be right, even when he wasn't. I'm not saying that the man was stupid, because actually was far from it but, in his mind, children should be seen and not heard. I learned rather early on in life it was in my best interest to keep my mouth shut as much as possible, and just let him think whatever he wanted, even if I secretly disagreed with him.

Mom was a high school teacher, who thankfully taught at an all-girls school, but just like everyone else, I quickly surpassed her level of education. Now, I studied on my own. Oh, I still went to school, obviously, but I never learned anything by being there. Most of the time, I didn't even bothered to correct my teacher's mistakes anymore, since neither the instructor nor students, ever seemed grateful for my input.

So, there I sat in my advanced calculus class, only partially listening to my teacher droning on about slopes and curves, while the remainder of my cognitive brain function was being taken up with a far greater and, consequently, exceedingly more complex task than what she could ever dream of comprehending.

"Mr. Covington, are you paying attention?" Mrs. Andrews asked.

"Yes ma'am," I replied.

"Then, perhaps, you would like to answer question 37 from your book," she challenged me.

"Sure," I said, then immediately gave her my answer without even bothering to look away from my higher priority task.

"You didn't even look at your book," she stated in a confused tone of voice when I obviously answered her question correctly.

"Since I've already read it once, why would I need to view it again?" I asked.

"You weren't really paying attention, were you Mr. Covington?" she accused.

"Of course I was. You started the class with roll call. After calling Linda's name out twice, Nancy raised her hand and said that she wasn't in school today. When you finished with that, you told the class to turn to page 217 as we would be discussing slopes and curves. Martin made the wisecrack comment about how he would rather study his girlfriend Joanna's curves. You asked three students to answer questions, before getting to me. Jim and Brian both gave the correct responses; though, in my opinion, it took Jim a bit too long to do so. Beverly was the third, and she used the wrong formula only to be corrected by Todd. That brings us up to date, well except for the question you asked me, which I have already answered," I said.

"Come now, Mr. Covington, you can't honestly expect me to believe that you've been focused on my lecture this entire time when, for the last 15 minutes, you haven't once looked up from your notebook. What's so intriguing that it has captured your attention away from this class?" she probed.

"Surely you've heard of multitasking ma'am, as millions of people successfully practice it every day. This," I said holding up my notebook, "is a mathematical formula that crosses between the laws of physics, biology and DNA, which I actually find challenging," I told her.

"Are you implying that this class is not stimulating enough for you?" she questioned.

"To be honest ma'am, no, it's not," I answered truthfully.

"Then why are you taking it?" she questioned further.

"My parents won't let me test out. I could quite easily take your final exam right now and not miss a single question. It doesn't really matter, anyway, because I'm likely to be extracted long before I could ever hope to finish high school, at the rate my parents are forcing me to follow," I told her.

"I think you'd better go to the office right now, Mr. Covington," She stated.

"Why is that, ma'am?" I asked.

"Because you have not been paying attention and, therefore, have been a disruption to my class," she answered.

"First of all, I haven't disrupted anything, as I've merely answered the question you've asked of me. Second, I'd like to know how I could possibly recite everything that's happened in class since it began if I haven't been paying attention," I said.

"Are you going to leave on your own, or do I have to call security to have them remove you?" she asked, obviously frustrated with me.

"There is no need for threats, ma'am, as I'll go if you wish me to, but you are clearly not being fair about this," I stood up, collected my things, and walked out the door.

When I got to Principal Hayden's office, it quickly became apparent that Mrs. Andrews had already called him and stated her case.

"So, Mr. Covington, Mrs. Andrews says that you weren't paying attention in her class," he stated.

"I'm afraid that she is not being honest with you, sir, because I can recite almost word-for-word everything that's been said since I walked into her classroom this afternoon," I told him.

"So, why would she tell me differently?" he demanded.

"She caught me multitasking and called me on it. When I answered her question correctly instead of faltering, as she assumed I would, she became embarrassed and sent me to your office. You see, sir, it doesn't take much effort on my part to concentrate on more than one subject at a time, and while others may have difficulties keeping up with the material, I find it to be rather simplistic and unchallenging. I readily admit to working on something besides calculus, but that doesn't mean I wasn't easily able to keep up with her lecture," I explained.

"Well, if Mrs. Andrews claims you weren't paying attention, then I have to believe her," he told me.

"No sir you don't," I said.

"Excuse me!" he exclaimed.

"There is nothing written, anywhere, that states a principal must take the word of an instructor over a student, you're simply choosing to do so. If I were to accuse someone of committing a crime, the police wouldn't just take my accusation at face value. There would be an investigation and, if possible, witnesses would be interviewed. Yet there are 24 other students in that class and, before talking to a single one of them, you are ready to accept Mrs. Andrew's word over mine," I told him.