Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.
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Feedback: Hell, yes.
Yeah, well…
Dick Grayson walked into the school office, stopped at the counter, waited until one of the secretaries noticed him.
"Yes?"
"I got a note asking me to come down here."
The woman barely glanced at the piece of paper he handed her. "This isn't from us, it's from Guidance." He was dismissed and ceased to exist as far as the woman was concerned. Dick walked to the office three doors down the hall, standing, again, in front of a secretary busy on the phone and waiting to be noticed. She was discussing the merits of chicken versus pork chops for dinner.
He stood there.
Waiting.
He shifted his weight from one foot to another.
He took the backpack from his shoulder and let it drop to the floor.
Three minutes went by. Rice versus potatoes.
Five.
The bell rang, the period ended. Students crowded the hallway outside the Guidance department's opened door.
Six minutes. Salad or not?
Seven and the woman finally hung up, her dinner menu finally decided. "Yes?"
"I was sent for." He handed her the crumpled note.
"Dr. Ludwig, second door on the left."
Dick stood in front of the cubicle and knocked lightly. The gray haired man at the metal desk looked up. "Yes?"
"You sent for me."
"And you are?"
"Dick Grayson."
The good doctor looked blank while he tried to place the kid he'd apparently wanted to see. Oh, right. "Your achievement test scores are in. 98's and 99's across the board. That's high, in case you're wondering—that's out of 100." His eyes were focused on Dick's opened student file. "You were home schooled for most of elementary school."
"Yes."
"You write at approximately a third year college level." Without warning he whipped a paperback book at Dick so fast it was all he could do to deflect it as it flew straight for his navel. "Except for spelling: 31. You spell at a third grade level.
Huh. Dick picked up the book. 'Spelling for Dummies.'
Subtle.
Unfazed, he hefted the book and turned to leave, remembering his manners at the last moment. "Thanks."
Hell, 'can't be good at everything.
7/3/08
