Chapter Two!
"Checkmate," Arthur says monotonously, smirking as he moved his rook over, cornering Alfred's king between the rook and his queen. He's been expecting to win the whole time, of course.
Alfred studies the board for a moment, leaning down to eye level with the pieces before promptly flicking his king over and beginning to put the pieces back in the box.
"The game isn't over yet Alfred." Arthur says in that same nonchalant tone, setting Alfred's king back up and putting the pieces Alfred had cleaned up back onto their marble squares with little stone clacks.
Alfred raises an eyebrow. "I lost. There's nothing else to it."
"But the game isn't over. There are still two more moves left." And, for the most part, he's right. Any move he makes will be followed by Arthur taking his king.
Alfred rolls his eyes but complies nevertheless for some reason. He moves a pawn in between his king and Arthur's rook, which still leaves the king wide open to attack by Arthur's queen. And of course the Queen kills the King on the next move not two seconds later.
"Happy?" Alfred asks, rather agitated.
"Yes," Arthur replies, albit smugly. He thinks he hears his student mutter something along the lines of "sentimental old fool" under his breath as he packs his bag to go to his next class. "What was that?"
Alfred looks up him, resembling a deer caught in the headlights of a semi-truck for a brief moment.
"Oh. Um. Nothing."
"No, you most definitely said something." Arthur smiles, playing with him now. Alfred had stayed silent for the entire chess game, appearing to be lost in concentration. So much for his plan. Though something one of his old university professors said about letting people work things out themselves sometimes tickles the back of his mind, he decides it's time to start employing other tactics. Would humor, perhaps, get him to talk?
"Nothing. Just that the chess club never played it that way. They quit at checkmate."
"Yes, well its been awhile since I've last played, but I do believe those are the official rules."
"Why make me play past that point then? I had already lost."
"Only you hadn't." Arthur places the last chess piece in it's place inside the box.
"Well I was going to. It was inevitable. Again, what's the point?"
Arthur shrugs. He'll let Alfred think about that one for the next few days. Not to mention that he doesn't exactly know where he's going with this himself. It's just so uniquely Arthur to never pass up the challenge of a deep (yet utterly pointless) philosophical question like that. In truth, those kinds of questions tend to stress most people out more than anything else. It might be best to avoid them with his students from now on.
"Alfred. You know you can come talk to me about anything, right?"
The sixteen year old snorted. "Yeah. I'll keep that in mind, British dude." His tone is heavy with sarcasm and Arthur resists the urge to roll his eyes.
"I'm serious, Alfred. It's not healthy to keep your emotions all bottled up like that."
The teen shook his head. "You know you sound like an overdramatic teenage g-"
"Alfred!" Arthur interrupts, a bit more harsh than he originally intended. The student falls silent and Arthur pinches the bridge of his nose and leans back against the wall behind his seat, feeling a headache coming on. "I went to college for eight years studying psychology. I know these things. Some symptoms can actually show up on MRIs and...ugh." He lets out a breath.
Alfred still seems skeptical.
"No matter, Alfred," he sighs. "You can go now if you wish. Meet me back here for your free period tomorrow."
"I have to come here again tomorrow?" He blinks, incredulous.
"And every day thereafter."
"You've got to be kidding me." The teen looks at his school psychologist with just that: a look half expecting the whole thing to wind up as a joke. "When can I actually have a free period? You know, like I'm supposed to?"
"As soon as you bring your grades up, Mr. Jones."
Alfred seems to stifle the urge to scowl and marches out of the office, but not before muttering "Alfred" as a correction.
Alfred is used to being the center of attention. He loves it. The thing is, he's never been entirely aware of it. Yeah, people like him, they care, et cetera et cetera, but he's been oblivious to the fact that that it's not like that for everyone else.
And then suddenly, he's not oblivious.
Suddenly, that happened. A car crash. Just a simple mistake of not looking clearly enough before making a left turn. It had been foggy and dark and that old car of theirs with the too bright headlights had caused a glare, or so the crash report had said. And that had been it.
Alfred is used to being the center of attention, but never like this. Never has he had strangers coming up to him to apologize, or to say things like "I can imagine what you must be going through." No. No; very few of them can imagine, so why would they bother even saying it? It annoys him to no end. On the other hand, the people who try to lift his spirits by pretending nothing has happened at all are even worse. Something had happened. Something big. Ignoring that was just downright disrespectful to all involved.
His grades are another matter entirely. He can't exactly put his finger on the problem there. He's not doing anything differently than he was when he was on honor roll last quarter...at least not to his knowledge. His highest grade right now is a C, and that's just in one class. The others are all Ds and Fs. He just doesn't understand it. He's studying harder and getting lower grades. Hours upon hours are spent at the desk in the corner of his room every night. Heck, he probably studies more than some of the top five students. That desk is a mess of papers and books bookmarks, andold plates and napkins. What else can he do? He supposes his priorities have been rearranged lately, with people sitting higher up on the list than homework, but isn't that how it's supposed to be anyway? If he's studying harder in spite of that, it certainly shouldn't matter.
Deep down, he knows that he should tell Arthur about all this. But the thought of someone rooting around in his head, pulling out it's most guarded content is just… sickening. Seriously, the thought actually makes his stomach churn. His mind is his, and he isn't just going to hand its content over all nilly willy.
Not now, and not ever.
Arthur gets up to change out the glasses collecting the rainwater that's leaking through the ceiling in his office. It had only started raining forty five minutes ago and already he's had to do this three times. He frowns, not sure how he'll get any work done at this rate.
The school had run out of money. A long time ago, in fact. The ceilings leaked, the walls were cracked, they only had wobbly metal chairs that made his back ache, he had to use an uneven, rather disgusting and stained cafeteria table for a desk, and the latest development: they had started laying off staff members.
He remembers his old school: the last one he had worked at. It wasn't rich, but it was very nice. This environment simply isn't suitable for learning. He'll probably be sick if he thought any more about how many mice and cockroaches he's had to get here (luckily, he hasn't been on glue trap duty for several weeks), and the leaky ceilings are starting to grow inky, puffy mold in some places...thankfully not in his office.
Arthur sighs, setting down another glass in a new place where the ceiling begins to drip. There isn't much he can do about the situation. Only worry about his students, or as the case may be, his one returning student.
And he supposes that deserves a bit of worry.
Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed, followed, and/or favorited chapter one! Chapter three will be up by Sunday at the very latest. Any reviews or feedback are greatly appreciated!