Chapter 5: High School

"Stand still!" his mother ordered. She was biting her lip while checking the length of his long sleeves and the length of his jean legs.

Alex supposed he was happy that he was finally growing. He now believed that one day he might even reach his father's 6-foot height. He was now average for his ninth grade. But gaining nearly six inches in twelve months was not easy. His mother's grumbles about replacing his clothing were not too bad. For the most part, buying loose shirts and extra-long jeans worked just fine. The biggest problem was footwear. He was wearing the fourth pair since his growth spurt began. A loose or tight pair might have been acceptable for walking around, but Alex ran almost every morning. Running shoes were the one article of clothing where he was as picky as any teenage girl.

Alex's breaking voice was embarrassing, but it affected so many other boys in school that he stopped being self-conscious about alternating between a squeaky tenor and a raspy baritone, which he still occasionally did in the middle of a phrase.

The ache in his bones was a bigger pain in the neck. Sometimes literally, although most of the time it was Alex's legs that hurt. He hated taking drugs, but he resorted to taking Tylenol on several occasions to let him sleep. Worse was his loss of balance. He kept messing up in the dojo, and every time he got his limbs to stop tangling, he grew another inch and became a klutz again.

"I think it's still good to wear to school. I just hope you don't need any nice clothes any time soon — all your dress shirts and pants are hopelessly short."

"Okay, Mom," Alex replied. He shouldered his bag and left for the school bus. Most of the books he carried that day were from the smaller library on campus that belonged to the business school. He'd been focusing on some of the more theoretical investment books, deciphering the mathematical models for valuations and risk analysis. It was mostly applied math with some specialized rules. He found that law books helped explained some of the rules that governed investments. However, some of the more complex and novel asset classes were not explained in the library books. The Internet was more useful, but its coverage was very superficial. He wondered if there was some way to interview some traders in fixed-income instruments. And perhaps some who traded complex futures contracts. And—

"Hey, Alex, are you going to the post-game party?" asked Jerry, Alex's bus-neighbor and fellow nerd.

"Not sure yet." The good part about going to the party: There will be girls there. The bad part: There will be girls there. Alex sighed heavily. "I will probably go."

"Again!" Sensei ordered. Alex and his partner, Rob, lined up against each other. Alex was the defender. After a few seconds Rob attacked with a jab. Alex executed a familiar defense, but the throw went even worse. Rob ended up on the mat, but Alex nearly fell himself. Further, he held onto Rob's arm longer than he should, and he saw Rob wince.

"Damn it! I'm sorry, Rob."

Mr. Kellogg watched Alex critically. As Alex repeated the Kata he had done hundreds of times before, he felt clumsy and slow. It was surprisingly difficult not to cry. The longed-for growth, coming in spurts and stops completely disarranged Alex's balance. He overextended himself and lurched to the next position. Sometimes trying to avoid going too far with his longer limbs, he stopped short and looked ridiculous with his amateurish strikes and sweeps. Alex didn't think he belonged in the advanced class any longer.

"You need to find your balance," Sensei commented. "I know it keeps changing, but look at it as a learning opportunity. In combat, you may be forced to fight with heavy or binding clothing, or with weight on your back or belt. Ability to compensate for different balance and limited freedom of movement is part of advanced training in several schools. You need to keep calm and do your best. Also, to avoid overstressing your joints and tendons you should limit your practice and running. Do you still run every day?"

"Most days," Alex replied. He wasn't sure if he accepted Sensei's reasoning. He wondered if he was saying this to make Alex feel better. "I run most days, but sometimes my legs hurt — and then I skip a day."

"I suggest the following," said Mr. Kellogg. "We will change reduce your Dojo schedule to once a week."

Alex winced.

"You should also avoid running on the days when your legs hurt and for three days after they stop. If you have enough energy, I suggest swimming. Swimming does not put the same stresses on the body as running or jujitsu training, but is still a very good exercise for both strength and endurance."

Alex sighed and said, "Yes, Sensei. I will use the pool at the Y."

Alex was holding on the side of the pool, watching several regulars slice through the water without any effort. He hated swimming. No, that was putting it too strong. He disliked swimming intensely. He had learned to swim years earlier, but generally preferred to play in the water. On the rare occasions when he was at the pool or on a lake beach with his parents, he swam for few minutes, practiced diving, indulged in water fights with anybody willing to participate, swam underwater, and so on. He enjoyed the water since the rapid change of activity didn't strain him and felt like play.

Now, he swam back and forth as fast as he could. Despite his good endurance from regular running, his muscles felt fatigued after the first few minutes, and swimming was boring. He was awkward, compared to some of the other swimmers. After only twenty minutes, Alex felt his arms ache, and his chest heave. It was also boring, since he could neither read nor listen to his headphones while in the pool. Luckily, he had done enough "read-ahead" recently that he could turn most of his attention to synthesis, while moving increasingly heavy arms over and into the water again.

After three days of swimming, one of the older women swimming effortlessly stopped to talk to Alex while he was doing his post-swim fish-out-of-water imitation. Beatrice was a swimming instructor, and apparently Alex had been swimming all wrong for the previous seven years. Beatrice was used to teaching younger kids, and her forceful manner sometimes grated on Alex. However, she was willing to spend some of her time teaching him to swim properly. Some of it felt awkward, but Alex was used to controlling his motion from jujitsu exercises. After a while, he was able to swim using the "proper form" with no more effort than before.

The swimming was just as hard, and just as boring, but he did seem to swim a bit faster. He covered more laps in the same twenty minutes. On average, Alex ended up swimming instead of running about one day in three while in 9th grade. By the end of the school year, he was able to swim for almost an hour at a rapid pace, but he never learned to like it. Alex was afraid that he would lose the carefree pleasure of water-play next time he was at a lake or ocean beach.

The party was not a success. By that time in the school year Alex knew most of the girls. Some of them were in his earlier classes, others he met just that year. While most of them were friendly, his company did not seem to be eagerly sought. He had a large arsenal of knowledge that helped him flirt. He had memorized details of female anatomy, dozens of books on courtship and romance, instructions on having enjoyable sex with one's partner, and textbooks on adolescent social interactions. He also knew thousands of quotes, jokes, poems and limericks. He didn't blush, stammer or snigger when a pretty girl was talking to him.

However, all his knowledge seemed to be ineffective in enticing the girls to get involved with him. They enjoyed talking to him, and appreciated his humor. Still, after a while they ended up with their boyfriends (if they had them) or girlfriends for those not yet attached. None seemed interested in becoming his girlfriend, or even making out. Alex was getting depressed. And horny. Actually, he never stopped being horny.

The following morning Alex made an effort to engage Karen. Karen sat in front of him in Honors History, and was, in Alex's humble opinion, very cute. Karen's best friend, Melissa, was also attractive, but not nearly as appealing as Karen.

Since Karen and Melissa usually were together, Alex ended up talking and joking with both of them. They have been mildly friendly since the beginning of the year, but never progressed to eating lunch together. Today, Alex tried to change that.

"Karen, what are you doing after school?" asked Alex.

"Not sure yet. Probably hang out with Melissa. Why?"

"Would you, and Melissa, like to check out Main Street shops today? We could have an ice cream and check what movies are playing," Said Alex.

"Hmm. What do you think, Melissa?" asked Karen.

"Sure, sure. With one condition. Alex, you can't rush us while we are shopping. I have to be back home by five o'clock, when my parents get home, so don't rush us before then."

The expedition was very pleasant. They talked enviously of the kids in high school who already had cars. They discussed how much money some parents had compared to their own. The shopping was Okay, since Alex could usually stand outside and indulge in synthesis. They eventually decided against a movie, but a soft ice cream parlor proved to be nearly as lengthy, from the agonizing selection of flavors, to exchange of opinions and tiny tastes of each portion, to gossip over melted remains of their ice cream. All in all, Alex was very happy, as they tentatively decided on another outing next Thursday.

Alex really wanted Karen as a girlfriend, but she and Melissa seemed to be attached at the hip. Melissa was fun too, a bit too assertive compared to quieter Karen. However, Karen only seemed shy, every few minutes she came up with a sharp joke. Both were willing to indulge in a bit of risqué humor, but neither was leaving any opportunity for a goodbye kiss. Perhaps next time...

While not as strong as lust, greed was becoming a familiar emotion for Alex. Like most people, Alex didn't want money for its own sake, but to get other things he liked. He wanted a nice car, even though he couldn't get a driver's license for two more years. With enough money he could hire a chauffer, of course. He could have his own house or apartment with a small gym, powerful computer, nice audio system, pleasant vacations and cool videogames. And, of course, he could impress girls.

He had been reading books in capital markets, investment and trading techniques, and various asset classes. He wanted to try making money on the stock market. Or perhaps the Futures market. But in order to speculate, he needed an initial investment.

Asking his parents to lend him money for a high-risk trading venture didn't seem appropriate. The four hundred dollars that he saved from his allowance wasn't enough to open a brokerage account, by a factor of magnitude or more.

Now that Alex was fourteen, he could, in theory, get a job. He spent a lot of time at the university campus, and planned to spend even more time in the future. Could he look for a job there? He had read most of the undergraduate and many graduate textbooks. Perhaps he could tutor somebody. Or maybe he could apply for a job as a research assistant. That would be a really nice job. He would have to take a look at the bulletin boards in the student center, and stop at the placement office.