High School for the Insanely Gifted and Talented

Part Two: Advanced Mechanics

The tardy bell rang, and the few students still gathering around complicated blueprints or gossiping idly over notes passed between classes quickly folded up their papers and took out their notebooks as Professor Delbert Doppler entered the room, several rolled up diagrams balanced precariously in his arms.  Dropping them unceremoniously on his desk near the blackboard, he straightened his glasses on his rather canine-like nose, and began his lecture on devices that enhance pivoting movement.

Sitting almost in the very center of class, Winly, wearing her characteristic white tank top and short black skirt, carelessly blew her long blonde bangs out of her eyes and tapped her pencil impatiently against her notebook.  Paninya, sitting beside her, noticed and agreed completely with her restlessness.  Leaning over, she whispered in Winly's ear, "This is supposed to be advanced mechanics, isn't it?"

Winly smirked and nodded in return, recognizing similar exchanges occurring throughout the room.

Duo Maxwell fidgeted with his braid, covertly sneaking glances at the tall, muscular Japanese boy sitting directly to his right, and, due to the blank notebook page open in front of him, obviously ignoring the lecture.  As the professor paused momentarily to clumsily tack one of the many diagrams to the blackboard, the boy caught his lusty eye, quickly turning it to fear, and hissed, "It would serve you well to pay attention to this, Maxwell, because next time the knee-joint of Deathscythe blows, I don't want to be the one to have to save your ass."

Duo opened his mouth to reply, but shut it as he flushed miserably at the sound of Wufei's muffled laughter.  "Heero's right you know," Wufei muttered in Duo's left ear.  "If you spent half the time staring at the board as you do staring at him..."  As Duo proceeded to mock-scratch the back of his neck deliberately with his middle finger, Wufei only leaned back in his seat, still smiling in amusement.

Ten minutes after class began, the door opened, and the Haven Architects sitting in the front row cringed as the smell of cigarette smoke invaded their nostrils.  A rough-looking boy entered the room, shoving a lighter into his calf-length pants, and the entire class broke into whispered commentary on his illustrious reputation.

"Ah, Mr. Hawkins," Professor Doppler greeted sarcastically.  "So very nice of you to join us."  Jim only crossed his arms stubbornly and shoved his stubborn chin into the air.  "Please don't be asinine – er - be on time."

Jim ran a hand through his long brown bangs and down the thin braid that sprouted from the base of his neck, and strutted to the seat directly behind Paninya.  Winly raised an eyebrow at her friend as he passed, and she shrugged and slouched comfortably in her chair.  A moment later, as the professor became reabsorbed in his lecture, Paninya felt a tap against her black boots, and bent to pick up the note Winly had dropped for her.

I think he likes you, Paninya rolled her eyes at Winly's words, especially that right arm of yours, the way he's watching it.  Maybe you should move it around, give him a bit of a show... maybe he'll invite you out for a smoke.  She couldn't help but smile at that last bit; Winly constantly teased her for her hopeless crush on Jim, and her love for "bad boys."  Deciding that it couldn't hurt, Paninya stretched her arms behind her, rolled her shoulder and flexed her fingers a few times, trying to ignore Winly's barely stifled giggles.  To her surprise, Jim actually leaned over, and she briefly glimpsed Winly's eyes widening.  "Nice automail," he said in a low, husky voice, and handed her a slip of paper.  "Here's my number, you know, in case you wanna smoke or whatever."

"James Pleiades Hawkins!" Professor Doppler called in exasperation, his hands firmly planted on his hips, and the chalk he still gripped in one of them marking his black slacks.  "Tardiness and chit-chat are not acceptable in my classroom.  Principle's office, NOW!"

Shrugging, Jim stood nonchalantly as the class began once again to teem with gossip and left the room just as calm and defiant as he had come, but not without dropping Paninya a distinct wink before he walked out the door.  The dark Rush Valley native briefly flashed Winly the phone number Jim had given her, which nearly caused the blonde girl to fall out of her chair.

Finally, after the grueling forty-five minutes of lecture had passed, Professor Doppler broke from his enchantment in the mathematical specifics of the lecture, and dug awkwardly in his briefcase for their homework assignment.  "Have a nice weekend," he finished.  "Class dismissed."

As if on cue, the bell rang at that very moment, and the students left their classrooms for the lunch hour, making their way to the cafeteria lines, rummaging through lockers, and settling in their normal spots to eat.  In his office, Principal Roy Mustang proceeded to do the same.  'Just one more hour.'