Chapter 13: Back at School with Julia

Monday, March 28 to Thursday, March 31, 2005

Julia walked me into school, firmly attached to my good arm. I felt no pain whatsoever.

We were early, but the school was filling quickly. Virtually everyone knew who we were. I was aware by now that the press were ALL OVER this story. It'd been front-page news day after day because prurience sells big time. The press had been bothering us repeatedly at home, annoying Mom and Dad several times.

Julia's role in the Annette incident was very well known around school, and she got lots of inquiries about the state of my buttons. She handled these inquiries with considerably aplomb. My favorite was, "Mark's buttons are no one's business but mine." Said with a promising smile on her face. It was a HUGE improvement over their being no one's business. They were very happy buttons.

I got even more attention. All of it good-natured and it felt great. I knew for certain that I was no longer a nobody in this school. Everybody knew who I was, and that I was sitting with my arm around one of the prettiest girls in school. Life was great!

I had nothing to fear from any of the participants in the assaults: the Biffs, Annette or the spare meats from the car. None of them was at school, having been either suspended or expelled already. None were in custody as their parents had bailed them, but they'd all been warned to stay away from school and me. Even jocks wouldn't be stupid enough to do that where every kid would recognize them.

Nor was I worried about the other jocks attempting anything. They'd ALL - with no excuses accepted - been summoned to a special meeting at school on Saturday afternoon. Their parents had been urged to attend, and most did. Some Department of Education big wigs, the Principal, all their coaches and some policemen had collectively read the jocks the riot act, including warning them to not even think about trying to hassle me. They were strongly advised to run the other way if they saw me coming. Jocks in my classes - not that many 10th graders were serious jock material yet - were singled out for especially fierce treatment over whether they could be trusted to behave. The grilling helped reinforce the idea that misbehaving would be an exceptionally bad choice. They were yelled at, threatened, lectured to, over and over again, until - even as dumb and testosterone pumped as they were - they got the message that their lives would be ruined if a hair on my head was disturbed. The school's reaction was WAY over the top because of my 226 IQ.

Much to my regret the short football season was over already, so having six jocks kicked out of school didn't have any serious affect on the rest of the team. If football had been played for all of the school year, as my school does with soccer, it would've ruined the jocks' final games as Annette's boyfriends had all been star players (that'd been her criterion for picking them; nothing less than the best for her. What her sole criterion lacked in intelligence, she made up for with quantity). I couldn't even cheer myself up with thoughts that the football team's next season would be damaged, as most of the six assholes were seniors so wouldn't have been back anyway.

I knew about this meeting, as the Principal had called to ask Mom to ask me whether I wanted the soccer team to be 'invited' too. I easily said "No" to that. My soccer teammates were the opposite of the football jocks. I wish I'd been there to see the football players' meeting though, as I would've REALLY enjoyed it.

^

One meeting that I didn't know about at the time happened the Friday morning after "The Annette Neumeyer Incident". After my little bombshell to the detectives on Thursday evening at the hospital - that Annette, Biff#1 and Biff#2 had also assaulted me; each in his or her own way fortunately - Mom had stormed into the school the next morning, demanded to see the Principal, who hadn't dared refuse to see her, whereupon Mom tore him a new one.

She ripped him up, then ripped him down. A 15-year old boy had been sexually assaulted by a senior, then physically assaulted twice on school property, and then again on the way home from school by four more members of the same school team, all of the assaults carried out by guys who weighed twice what I did, and most of whom were seniors. The school had not only failed to stop any of the assaults, but it didn't even know about them afterward. It was inexcusable! And not just any 15-year old boy, but a certifiable genius. A 226 IQ student who was screaming through the school syllabus and was clearly going on to be of national importance, if not international importance.

Mom demanded that he explain how six members of the same school team, even while wearing their jerseys, could commit crimes of violence. "What sort of training does this school give its football players that so many of them believe criminal assaults are acceptable?"

Mom was screaming at him, and the Principal had to take it. He tried to downplay it as "Boys will be boys," but Mom wasn't standing for that crap! Six members of the same school team had committed three separate crimes of violence, so clearly the school was at fault. Plus some of the "boys" were legally adults. Mom gave the Principal a VERY hard time, and there wasn't anything he could say to stop her.

Immediately after she left his office, Mom called the Corvallis Board of Education, informed them of additional assaults carried out by Annette, Biff#1 and #2, and then screamed at them for a while. The Corvallis and Oregon Boards of Education had known of my IQ test result even before I did, and had been excitedly following my academic achievements ever since, and both had already sent a couple of people to the school to talk with the Principal about the Biff#3 assault. News of the additional assaults was sent to these people, who then went back to the school and piled into the Principal yet again.

Then the police following up on my interview arrived to grill the Principal. They were less than impressed by his previous ignorance of the assaults, other than what Mom had screamed at him, and his inability to explain why six members of the football team had been so violent. The Principal had to call in the football coaches. (Jocks are so stupid they need several coaches. There's one for telling them how to run forward, another for telling them how to stand still, etc.) The coaches spent a very unpleasant time trying to explain how such a large proportion of the one team could be criminals. That led to the previously mentioned Saturday meeting/riot-act-reading.

All things considered, the Principal was not having a good week.

I didn't know about these behind-the-scenes activities. For example, I had no idea that the Oregon Board of Education had ever heard of me, let alone were sending people to Corvallis because of me. I hadn't realized the impact an IQ score of 226 followed by my substantiating academic achievements would have. People had noticed and had been watching. After the assaults, some of these people started standing over the Principal's shoulder and watching a lot closer. This is why the six meats and Annette were expelled from school so rapidly: the Principal had to be seen to be doing something.

I was thankful that the press never cottoned on to how smart I was. I was repeatedly described as "an honors student", even though there was no formal reality behind that title. My IQ score, unbeknownst to me, was reasonably well known within the education system, but not 'without it' (that should be the opposite of "within it"; blame English if it's not).

One of the words that Mom particular enjoyed yelling at anyone to do with the school was "sue". Several lawyers had already called Mom and Dad to offer their services for a suitable percentage. We hadn't retained any, but that didn't stop Mom yelling the word. She got particular enjoyment from watching the reaction it got. My school already had a reputation for being lax on bullying, so they were on very thin ice in terms of defending themselves from such a suit.

The Corvallis Board of Education volunteered to pay all my medical bills. I even got a new bike out of it too, as the front wheel of mine had been damaged hitting the car. That was excessive, but I think deliberately so, as a result of Mom's use of that highly feared, three-lettered word.

So you can imagine how forcefully the football jocks were told to leave me alone in their Saturday meeting!

On the topic of the meetings that resulted from my being assaulted, I'll jump ahead a couple of days. There was yet another meeting in my home on the Wednesday evening after I'd returned to school, to discuss my future educational needs. Present were my parents and me, two people from the Oregon Board of Education, a representative of the Corvallis Board, the Principal and the high school's Deputy Principal. It soon became apparent that our school's Principals were there so they knew what they were required to do. In effect to say "Yes" to anything we decided, and then to make sure it happened. Their opinions were not sought, in part because in Mom's first tirade to the Corvallis Board's people had let 'slip' how difficult the Principal had made it for me to advance a year.

I was presented with a list of educational options. Everything from home-study with or without tutors supplied by the state; changing schools to either a public or private school; or staying where I was, changing to the 11th grade or not. The choice was wide open.

There was a considerable amount of discussion on the advantages and disadvantages of each possibility, and no shortage of advice from those who, in their opinion, knew what was best for my future. To be fair, they probably did know what was best, but it made no difference to me. The educationalists couldn't, and my parents wouldn't, force a decision on me, which meant it was my decision. That made most of the meeting a total waste of time because I was staying EXACTLY where I was: in the same school as my girlfriend of three days. That might not have been the most mature decision I could have made, but I was happy to live with the consequences. In fact, I was eagerly looking forward to them, my buttons especially so.

That decision having been made - although I might have been somewhat vague about my reasons - we ended up agreeing that I would carry on in my current classes, and would continue self-studying next year's material too. I was promised that I'd be allowed to take both sets of exams at year end, and my 11th grade results would be entirely dependent on its exams so I wouldn't be penalized for not having done coursework during the year. We'd discuss what grade I got into next year after getting the 11th grade results.

I was told that if I changed my mind, or had any other request, not to hesitate to ask the Principal. And then he was told to say "Yes" to anything I asked for. That might have been a bit theatrical, but it got the right sort of message across to both of us.

There was also a little meeting at school, where my teachers from both years were encouraged to provide me with every assistance, and if they felt they didn't have enough resources to help me as best they could, not to hesitate to ask the Principal. That the Corvallis and Oregon Boards of Education would be frequently checking up on everyone involved with me was made clear to my teachers.

I was given better access to next year's teachers, and was 'allowed to', if I wished, do their assignments and take their quizzes, that not the sort of thing that would normally be thought of as desirable. Mostly I didn't, as the main purposes of those things didn't apply to me: to check I was doing the work, making sure I was remembering it, finding gaps in my comprehension, etc. With four minds on the job, those weren't issues for me in most of my subjects. I did have to check with the 11th grade English teacher unreasonably frequently, as there's often no way of telling what some 'clever' things mean in English.

I had known that the ability to make my cock go soft on demand was going to make my life better, but I'd never dreamed it was going to make it this good this quickly: it'd gotten me a great deal of special treatment, made me a somebody, and earned me a gorgeous girlfriend! It really is a WONDERFUL ability.

Anyway, there I was on Monday morning: sitting in school before the first class, surrounded by well-wishers, with my right arm in a sling, my left arm around a very pretty girl, and with a large smile on my face. Possibly the largest smile I had ever had. I could have sat there forever, but the bell for the start of class rang.

In my first class the teacher asked, "Will you have any trouble writing, Mark?"

"No. I'll be fine. Don't worry about it." When it came time to write something I picked up my pen with my left hand and wrote away as if I had always been left-handed. I could see the teacher look at me doing so, and frown as he puzzled over his previous impression that I was right-handed. I could see him give up on the effort, and it made me smile.

Several of my classmates did remember that I was right-handed, so word of my instant left-handedness spread. This built on recent talk about my very weird eyes, plus my occasional random chuckles and some other usual behaviors that resulted from my four-way mind. Out of such incidents the "Egg" reputation grew.

^

[As a little expansion on the weird eye issue mentioned just above. In class I was routinely using one eye to watch the teacher, and the other to do whatever other work I wanted to catch up on, usually either 11th grade reading or 10th grade homework. Nearly all the time my head was facing down because I was either writing on, or reading from, pages on my desk, with just the one eyeball looking up at the teacher. My head's position meant not many people could see both eyeballs at the same time, but they could occasionally, and the people sitting on the side of my teacher-watching eye could see me writing or turning pages of a book while apparently looking at the board. The "E" of my nickname was very well established by now.

It nearly got even weirder in class one day, before my arm was broken, when the mind that was reading from an 11th grade textbook picked up a pen and started making notes in the margin. One of the non-studying minds quickly pointed out that another mind was also writing notes with the other hand at the same time. I often wrote with both hands in my room at home so it wasn't something I paid much attention to, but I thought it was too strange for school. I immediately stopped and put all but one pen back into my bag. Fortunately no one noticed. Thereafter I kept only one pen on my desk.]

I quickly found out that my new girlfriend - I LOVED thinking that - had a life that was VERY different from mine. I was amazed she had time for doing any schoolwork at all because she was involved in God knows how many other activities. Julia was attached to my arm, which meant I got dragged from meeting to meeting. I lost track of how many times she said to me, "Oh there's [whomever]. I have to talk with him/her about [whatever]." Whereupon I'd be dragged across a room yet again.

She was in clubs, societies, committees and subcommittees, for both in-school and out-of-school activities. As far as I could tell, if someone somewhere was thinking about organizing something, Julia wanted to know about it, and preferably be in charge of it. Whenever I was with her, she was in an almost constant flurry of activity, except for those inconvenient periods called "class" when the teachers insisted on everyone paying attention to them. [After a few more days of listening to all the stuff Julia was involved in organizing, I wouldn't have been surprised to discover that Corvallis's Mayor and the city council followed her orders. I'd known Julia was a busybody, but I'd had NO IDEA! It would've been quite a worry except that she was my girlfriend (yippee!), and could therefore do no wrong.]

The weather didn't permit sitting outside for lunch, so Julia latched onto my arm and we went to the lunchroom. In the past there had never been any interest from anyone else in sitting next to me. Today was very different. Even before Julia and I had found a table, a large crowd of people started gathering around us, the lucky ones, they seemed to think, managing to get a seat near us.

To my surprise, Carol arrived a few minutes later. Normally middle-school students eat in their own lunchroom, but Carol explained that she'd come to ours in case I wasn't managing with one arm, which was very nice of her, especially given how hungry I get these days. She quickly saw that I was fine, and even if I hadn't been, there were plenty of volunteers who would've helped me, if they'd been able to beat Julia to the task. That was unlikely, given how close to me Julia was sitting. It was wonderful.

The trouble was that there was no spare seat at our table. I asked for the people on my right to scoot over to make room for Carol next to me, but they weren't willing to be 'demoted' further from my august presence - sheesh!

I tried a couple of times to get them to move, without success. Then Julia loudly took over. In seconds she had them scooted sideways far enough to let Carol insert a chair next to me.

It was a nice lunch. Carol had fun teasing me by telling Julia about how much I eat, but she also made sure I had plenty to eat too, which I appreciated. So Julia started making sure that I was eating plenty, which I appreciated even more.

Carol's advice to Julia included, "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach. This man has a good heart, but he has an incredible stomach, so you've got your work cut out for you." There were several quips of that nature, mostly designed to tease me rather than inform Julia, as Carol had already passed on a great deal of detailed information about me to Julia.