Chapter One
Sheldon Cooper couldn't help but scoff at the public high school building before him. He was 15 years old, already had a master's in physics and busy working on his dissertation for his Ph.D. Damn his mother for volunteering him for high school tutoring.
"You need to interact with kids your own age, Shelly," she had insisted. "You can't spend your whole life alone in your room measuring your own urine." With his face set firmly in a sneer, Sheldon Cooper advanced inside the building with a bleak outlook. This would set him behind in his dissertation.
Leonard Hofstadter was determined to avoid yet another year of social ostracism at the Loser Table in the far corner of the gymnasium. He couldn't help that he was the only kid in the school who had been eligible for the post secondary enrollment at Cal-Tech for the special physics program, and that he possessed an IQ of 173. So, this year, he had been demoted from the Loser Table to his very own corner of Doom and Gloom, thus labeled by the other kids as the Leonard Table. So, around lunchtime, he was surprised to see a rather supercilious young man sitting at the Leonard Table.
"Uh, hi?" Leonard said meekly.
"Hello, young man," the boy said with an air of being Leonard's superior. 'Rich kid,' Leonard grimaced.
"I'm, uh, Leonard."
"How unfortunate," the boy said, continuing to mark his papers like he hadn't just insulted him. "If you are in want of tutoring, I don't offer sessions during lunch."
"No, it's just…you're sitting at my table."
"I wasn't aware there was a sitting chart." Leonard laughed at the boy's little joke. It sank like the Lusitania. "You're joking, right? Right?"
"No. Tell me, where do the teachers sit?"
"You're new here, aren't you?" Leonard sat his tray down and slid into the chair across from him.
"Leonard Hofstadter," he said, extending his hand. The boy sneered at it and refused to return the gesture. Leonard let his hand fall nervously to the table.
"Sheldon Cooper, I'm pleased to meet you," he delivered the well rehearsed line with a note of contempt for the social convention.
"Charmed," Leonard deadpanned. "Wait a second, the Sheldon Cooper? Youngest winner of the Stevenson Award ever!" Leonard noticed that Sheldon seemed to fluff up a little at the praise. "I thought you were supposed to be in Germany teaching."
"Yes, well, my mother demanded I spend at least a single semester in a," he was barely able to finish the sentence, "public school."
"What are you doing here?"
"Offering tutoring in all subjects except for those in the arts and literature categories. I do, however, offer editing for scientific papers. What subject do you need help with?"
"You mean, you can't tell?" Leonard said disbelievingly, pointing to his thick glasses and cello case. "Do I look like someone in need of tutoring?"
"Why else would you be speaking to me?"
"I thought you'd need a friend. You looked lonely so I came over here to keep you company."
"Then why did you begin this whole conversation with accusing me of sitting at your table?"
"Okay, fine," Leonard acquiesced, "the other kids won't let me sit with them."
"I appreciate your honesty." Sheldon never looked up from his papers. Leonard set about unwrapping his baloney and mustard sandwich. They sat in un-companionable silence for nearly ten minutes. Leonard decided to try whistling a merry little tune to bide the time.
"No whistling if you wish to continue this association." Leonard couldn't help but smile. Anything was better than sitting at the Leonard Table alone.