It's so wrong.
You feel this goes against everything you were taught. You were taught this was for the weak, for those who were not strong enough to be in your branch. (That other one encourages its members to do so, but your branch is not that one.)
You sit down, anyway. As wrong as it feels, there is no one around at the moment to bear witness. Besides, how can it be so wrong if it feels so right?
Your younger sister will be home soon. You know you do not have much time. So you begin.
To type.
"HAM! The soccer game ended early because the losers on the other team forfeited after I broke their goalie's leg! Haha! Wimps."
You sigh. You had thought you would be able snatch a few minutes to work on developing a computer program while Madison was playing soccer, Reagan was at jujitsu class, and your parents... well, you have no clue where your parents are, but you have a sneaking suspicion it has something to do with the clue hunt. Unfortunately, Madison has come home early, and you don't have the courage to let your family know how much you like computers. Not yet.
"What are you doing on the computer?" Madison asks. She says this like she cannot think of anything worse than working with computers. You cannot think of anything better. You jump at the proximity of her voice. You have heard her come inside your home, of course, but you did not realize she had entered the room. She scrunches up her nose. "Computers are for nerdy Ekats."
"Um, homework," you lie. "You know, for my computer class," you tell her. "Nothing else. You know that if I don't pass all my classes I won't be allowed on the football team."
"It's totally stupid," Madison adds, rolling her eyes. "It's not like you need to know that Bill Gates invented Facebook to score a touchdown."
"Right," you agree, deciding not to correct her. Sometimes it amazes you that you are a part of the Holt family. Sure, you like all the same things Holts do: anything to do with sports. Anything that has involves physical strength or skill, you excel at, from rugby to synchronized swimming (not that you ever wanted anyone to know that, but your physical education teacher put it on your report card, anyway.) However, your favorite activity is not sports, but computers, something that is supposed to be only for weak, nerdy Ekats who cannot tell the difference between a baseball and a basketball. You can hack a computer just as easily as you can tackle a quarterback.
There is nothing you can think of that is less Holt-like. It took your own father hours just to figure out how to send an email, and that is what really worries you. Not the teasing of your sisters, because your own embarrasment you can live with. Your father would be disapointed in you; he would lose all pride he had in you, his only son. Worse, he will be embarrassed.
So you hide your skill. You pick on members of the computer club, playing the part of the Tomas bully/jock to perfection.
"Oh, and you know that goalie? Whose leg I broke?" Madison asks. Once again, you are surprised by her voice. You had forgotten she was there. "He's, like, captain-thingy of the computer club." She laughs derisively. "That's what happens when wimpy little computer nerds try to play sports."
You will definitely wait to tell your family your secret. At least until they accept computers enough to care that a computer mouse does not like cheese.
Quote of the Day -
"What happened in the dungeon between you and Professor Quirrel is a complete secret, so, naturally, the whole school knows." - Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J. K. Rowling
