-Provost Prokhor Zakharov,
"The Mind of the University."
"Nathanial Fowl, I asked you a question! Now remove your head from outer space and pay attention!"
The teacher's bark and the sounds of laughing classmates awoke the day-dreaming boy. He blinked his attention from the professor to his classmates, then back out the window again. The lad, who was five foot five and weighing in at a little over 100 pounds, was used to being laughed at. Despite having a relatively handsome body, perfect hair, and one of the only blemishless faces in the seventh grade, the students could always found something to tease him about.
Sometimes they teased him about his studiousness. Holding perfect grades was an accomplishment in his class, so he was usually deemed as being the teacher's pet. He wasn't quite sure what all the fuss was about…he rarely studied and hardly ever paid attention, yet he still received one-hundred and four percent grades on his reports. Nathanial could've honestly cared less about his grades, truth-be-told. Nevertheless, the children still found ways to torment him, usually with comments like 'egghead' and 'bookworm'.
More often then that, however, he was berated by his utter lack of strength. Given his size and height, it was understandable that he would never be a pro athlete. However, no matter how hard he tried, he could lift almost nothing heavier than his books. Even the girls laughed at him in Physical Endurance tests as he tried in vain to pull himself up to his chin, once. Hell, he couldn't even hold himself up. Naturally, the jocks took great delight in tormenting him for that.
The torment the children enjoyed inflicting on him the most, however, was the thing that he had the least control over; his surname, Fowl. Thanks to the beauty of the commonly-spoken English language, he would be tainted forever thanks to the way 'fowl' sounded like 'foul'. Perhaps it wasn't the most harmful of nicknames, but it irritated Nathanial to no ends when he heard it being used to insult him, and his peers knew it…so it became a valuable weapon to use against him.
After all the other things he'd been laughed at for, not paying attention in class was the least of his worries. He picked up his monitor (a handheld device with a keypad and a small screen equipped, widely used for research and information) and turned his attention to the teacher. "I'm sorry, ma'am, what was the question?"
More snickers from his peers; the teacher ignored them. "We were discussion last night's homework assignment, about the mid-history of the colonization of Planet. More than a hundred a years ago, our Lady Deirdre went to war with the University of Planet. Why?"
Nathanial rolled his eyes. "Ma'am, pardon my bluntness, but that's a stupid question."
The teacher raised an eyebrow. "Really. Why do you think that?"
Nathanial shook his head in annoyance. "Lady Deirdre was under mind control from Meskha Treibek. You'd have to be an idiot not to know that."
The teacher shook her head. "Okay, then. Class!", she said, snapping the rest of her students to attention. "How many of you here have read three chapters ahead in your text to know about Meskha and her mind control device?"
Not a single hand rose, except for Nathanial's…who put his hand down slowly, realizing his fatal mistake. And I called them idiots..., he thought, why do they tease me for being so smart when I usually feel so completely and utterly stupid?
The teacher leaned against her podium and stared at him. "You are - in fact - correct, Mr. Fowl, but I would've just as easily accepted 'bio-degradism' or 'border disputes', as they're the answers in the chapter I asked you to read. I also suggest you practice a wiser demeanor in the future."
It was all he could do to nod. He could hear the classmates behind him laughing below their breath. Just another day in the life of Nathanial, he thought.
"Hey, foul-boy!"
Nathanial sighed, as he knew who it was before he even turned around. It was Max Chasen and his clique, who were just itching to exercise their taunts on the boy. He turned around slowly, and his suspicions were correct…the five feet ten, two hundred and twenty pound goliath was standing in the middle of the hall, hands on his hips. Surrounding the bully was his two friends, also more than enough to destroy the small boy.
Nathanial ran a finger through his golden hair. "Oh look; proof that humans evolved from monkeys."
The blemish-faced boy snorted. "Big words, small man. Tell me, egghead, how many chapters of your text did you read last night while the rest of us were battal'ing?"
Nathanial shuddered at the word. Battal was a rough adaptation of football, where one team launched a ball onto the field and ran towards it, hoping to obtain it. The other team, however, was designated to keep the offense away from the ball, using any means necessary. It's games like that that killed people like Nathanial Fowl.
He tried not to look afraid. "I have better things to do then run around the field after a little white ball, thanks."
"Like you could play if you wanted to, weakling!"
Nathanial noticed the boy take a step towards him as he said that. He shrugged. "What if I did play? What would happen if I was agile enough to catch that little sphere before you moving walls could catch me?"
The bigger boy took another step towards him. "That sounds like a challenge, little boy. Dare to play a game or two?"
"That's close enough."
The two boys looked over to the source of the sound. A short, brown-haired woman was leaning against the wall, eavesdropping. She pushed off the wall and walked next to Nathanial. She scowled in Max's direction.
"Mr. Chasen, I suggest you stay away from Mr. Fowl. These threats must stop, or you will be reported to the corrections council."
The bully stared at her, and then nodded. "I apologize, Miss Canio."
She shook her head. "Don't apologize to me, apologize to Nathanial."
Max said nothing and turned, walking off, with his clique close behind. The girl shook her head and looked at Nathanial.
"You okay?"
Nathanial shook his head. "Mille, no one will leave me alone. I'm a walking joke."
The girl shook her head in return. If there was anyone on Planet who Nathanial could consider a friend, it was Mille Canio. She and Nathanial were students at the same school, which was the biggest education center at the Gaian base of Silvering Point. Mille, however, was a student teacher for one of her middle school credits, teaching mathematics to younger grades. Because of that, many students respected her as working faculty…even students like Max Chasen, which worked in Nathanial's favor.
"Nathanial, why do you bait him like that?"
Nathanial sighed. "I'm tired of being the scrawny little boy that they make fun of."
Mille didn't bother to hold back a scoff. "And you think having a big mouth will help that fact at all? If I hadn't have been here, what would've happened? You'd probably be trampled to death on the Battalfield!"
"…I guess so. I'm just tired of being laughed at…and it's nice to try and bring other people down for a change."
He started to walk away, but Mille grabbed his arm. "C'mon, you." She dragged him across the hall towards the student teachers lounge. Fortunately, the room was empty, so she gently pushed him onto the small couch in the room. He sat motionless, with her sitting next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder.
"Well, Nathanial, some people enjoy your calm demeanor. When you start lashing out at people, it makes you just like them…and I don't drag people like Max Chasen into this room and lean my head against their shoulders."
Nathanial leaned his head against the seat. "And what makes me special, or even different, then them?"
She smiled as sat up, looking at him. "You're smart, you're kind, and you know about life. You could solve all of Planet's problems if you devoted your mind to it."
Nathanial shook his head and stood up, walking towards the door. "I have to deal with my own problems before I deal with Planet's. Thanks for the help though, Mille." The door slammed behind him, leaving the girl on the couch. She sighed slowly before walking towards the door.