Almost done.
The end of the school day was drawing near and Dean was counting the minutes. His brain had eaten its fill of information, and he was quite sure it couldn't take anymore at the moment.
His final class was the only one in its hallway, the only rooms near it being a gym, locker rooms, and some bathrooms. Dean briefly wondered why the classroom was so isolated from the others, but the answer was quick in coming. One look of his instructor told him that the classroom was where it was because he wanted it there, and this man was someone you didn't want to be on the bad side of. Kind of like Dad, he was a my way or the highway type person. Good to know.
The instructor didn't take much of a roll in the initial part of the class. Instead, upperclassmen taught them how to fall in and stand at attention.
"I am cadet Captain Vivian Aytes and this is cadet First Sergeant Marcus Walsh. We will be your cadet instructors for this year."
Captain Aytes was short and petite, and dare he think, kind of cute, but she had a bite to her that Dean was sure he didn't want to be on the wrong side of. 1SG Walsh, on the other hand, had at least 60 pounds on Dean, and nearly a foot of height. Strangely, though, he didn't hold the same intimidation factor of Captain Aytes. What an unusual pair.
Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could see the adult instructor, Major Crites, he now knew him as, standing with his arms cross in the edge of the classroom watching the proceedings intently.
He's sizing us up.
Normally, Dean wouldn't have cared. This time, however, he had no way of knowing how long he and Sam were going to be hanging around. Which meant his teachers had to at least tolerate him.
Major Crites already had a sour look to him. It was as though, in the few minutes they had stood there, he was already annoyed by them all. This seemed likely enough to Dean, as even the first sergeant and the captain had atrocious bearing.
The rest of the hour was filled with introductions to basic army doctrine, such as the 7 army values, the cadet creed, and basic drill. All in all, pretty boring. Dean was a little disappointed, he'd thought he might enjoy this class. Maybe it would get better with time.
Sam had stood in the parent pick up line looking for a certain black Chevy impala for several minutes before realizing his mistake. He then sprinted back, in hopes to make the bus. Which he did. Thankfully.
As he loaded the bus, he couldn't help but be a little disappointed. He missed watching that impala role on up.
Half an hour later found him standing at the bus stop waiting for Dean's bus, which came shortly. Together, they made their way back to Sonny's.
"Get any homework, squirt?"
"Not much, Sonny. Just the usual paragraph about yourself crap." Sam sighed, " I don't know why they even bother having school for the first few days. We never actually learn anything."
"Ah, but the teachers do. They learn your names and something about you."
"Ugh. It's not like there's a point anyway - none of its gonna be tr-" Sam received a discreet elbow to the ribs courtesy of Dean. "-truly interesting." He corrected himself.
Sonny raised an eyebrow. "What would make you think that? You're plenty interesting to me."
"Like how?" This time it wasn't just Sam that tilted his head up to receive the answer.
"Well, for one, you tell some of the wildest stories I've ever heard- and I've been to prison. That takes a special somethin'." Sonny said, " and you know more about beetles than any boy I've ever met. You play scrabble in languages I've never even heard of, and I'd hedge a bet that you could take down most any adult in a game using only English. And you call that dang rooster by his scientific name. Kid, it don't get a lot more interesting than that."
Standing out's the easy part. It's blending in that's hard.
Sam sauntered out of the kitchen, determined to find a tale to spin that was interesting, convincing, and... entirely false.
Sonny turned his attention to Dean. "What about you? How was school?"
"Alright."
"Good. No problems?"
Dean shook his head.
Sonny's phrasing implied problems relating to finding his classes or a lunch table, but they both knew what he really meant.
"Even better. Homework?"
"Math, but-" Dean paused, "I don't get it. Like at all."
Sonny hummed in thought. "Well, pull it out. Maybe this old man can help you take a crack at it."
Dean looked up in surprise, "Really?"
"Why not?"
Dean shrugged and unzipped his pack and popped out the worksheet along with a pencil and a scientific calculator.
"Explain what we're looking for." Sonny said, taking a seat across from Dean. He pulled his reading glasses from the front pocket of his shirt and slid them on, effectively taking on the appearance of a 50 year old librarian much more accurately than Dean was comfortable with.
"So we're supposed to be graphing these lines, right? But we don't get any data - just this stupid equation that have more letters than numbers and don't even have answers." Dean pointed to the first problem with his pencil. "How are we supposed to make y=3x +4 into a line when we don't know what the line is supposed to look like? The teacher called them linear so they're straight lines, but that's literally all we know. We don't even know how long they are. The teacher said the equation was the line, but how can that be if the numbers aren't even straight and the equation is linear?"
Frustration oozed from Dean.
"Well, think of the equation as the blueprint for the line." Sonny said, " It gives you instructions on how to build the line. And this line you're building, it goes on forever. At least for now."
"But how can it go on forever? That's stupid. It would run out of ink."
"It's not an actual line, it's abstract. It's an idea. It doesn't have to actually exist."
"Then why do we have to do it if it's not actually useful?" Dean asked, "I can guarantee that I will go about life and never have to use this ever again."
"Oh, but can you really guarantee that?"
"Yes."
Usually the boys had conceded the point by now. Sonny wasn't sure where to go from here.
"Well," he said, "Maybe the point of it is not so much to know how to do the equation, but rather to learn how."
"What do you mean?" Dean asked.
Hmm good question, what do I mean?
"The point of school isn't so much to learn things as it is to learn how to learn things."
"And the first 8 years don't do a good enough job?" Dean raised an eyebrow.
Ya know... He makes a good point.
"Well, I don't claim to understand it all, but it is what it is." Sonny said, "Which means we're going to figure it out."
A/N: Oooohh wow what is this? Another chapter less than a year after the one before? What? Unheard of!
Hehe. Yeah, I'm back guys. And I make the solemn promise to give you guys at least one more chapter after this before New Years.
