The faces he received just reinforced the fact that this school wasn't totally unlike his previous. The glowering faces of high school freshmen gave a distinct impression, one that wasn't lost on young Daniel. Who the hell does he think he is? Look at the runt! He must be lost! The students didn't need to say any such epithets for Daniel to know what they were thinking. His stomach jittered a bit; it sensed another beating was soon on its way. Every September he ended up visiting the emergency room at least once. Why would this be any different? Mrs. McPherson promised it would be.
"You must be Mr. Jackson. I've already assigned seats. You're right there in the front." Mr. Baird peered at the young scholar above his reading glasses and pointed towards the empty desk. As Daniel shifted into the seat, a small paperback was dropped in front of him. "Consider this your official welcome to Freshman Literature. This class is not like your reading classes in the younger grades. I expect serious and pensive responses to the books you will be reading this year, and anything short of this will be met with a less than satisfactory grade. By the time you graduate from St. Antholian's, each and every one of you will be considered well read by even the most serious of scholars. The next four years will be challenging, and good foundations learned now will better prepare you for future years. As such, I fully expect every assignment to be completed on time, and each one of you prepared for every class. Otherwise, I believe time in detention will be necessary. Have I made myself clear?" A murmured affirmative expelled from the student body. "Very well. We will be covering classical Greek and Roman texts for the first quarter. We will begin with Sophocles' Antigone."
As Professor Baird began a monotonous lecture on Sophocles, Daniel took an interest in the paperback in front of him. He had actually not read Antigone, though he had of course learned a bit about Sophocles when he spent the summer of his fifth birthday in Greece with his parents. He imagined his mother reading Sophocles in the original Greek; she had been classically trained in the Greek language. She had to have read this. That thought gave Daniel a bit of hope, a chance to connect with the parents he didn't have the chance to know as well as he wanted.
"Mr. Jackson." Daniel was too caught up skimming through the short book to notice that he was being called. "Mr. Jackson!" Daniel snapped his head up to the blackboard. "A word before you leave." Daniel swerved his head around to notice that students were already leaving the classroom. The bell must have rung.
"Of course, sir. Sorry." Daniel quickly and quietly made his way to Professor Baird's desk.
"So, Mr. Jackson, I hear you're quite a wunderkind. You've only got five minutes until your next class, so I'll be quick. I'm demanding the same intensity in your work, as I am the rest of these students. Don't think that I'll give you any slack because you're several years younger. Prove to me that you belong in my class. You are dismissed, Mr. Jackson." Mr. Baird's face was serious but not angry. Daniel at once knew that he might learn a great deal from this class, he even might be challenged.
Daniel began to walk out of the classroom when he turned back. "Professor Baird, I'm afraid I have no idea where to go from here. I've not yet been given my schedule." To Daniel's surprise, Mr. Baird smiled back at him. He quickly picked up the phone on his desk and connected with the front office.
"Mr. Jackson, you've lucked out. You're next class is right down the hallway. Room 225." Daniel nodded and shifted to leave. "Mr. Jackson?" Baird's eyebrows arched slightly as the young student turned around once more. "Good luck today." Daniel couldn't help but return with a smile before quickly removing himself from the classroom.
His second period class was Catechism, which, while his "agnostic-but-lets-not-take-a-chance" father had baptized him Catholic, was not a topic he had much encountered. The class seemed dull and merely required rote memorization. Sister Mary Ignatius also seemed to be the source of the dullness. She assumed no one in her class had read the Bible, even if almost all of the students had been at St. Antholian's since the first grade and had certainly read the Holy Scriptures many times throughout their education. Daniel was at least not behind by her standards.
Daniel was surprised to see Mrs. McPherson waiting for him outside the classroom as the bell rang again. "You, sir, have an appointment with Headmaster Thomas. Come on, young man!"