Author: Alison
Title: Calculus 3
Pairings: none
Summary: Set while Charlie is getting his masters. His first day teaching.
Rating: K+
Spoilers: none
Charlie wished he were taller. Four more inches and he would be a solid six foot. An imposing presence. He could darken doorways with his frame. Tower over people. Look down at them instead of up. Two more inches and he would be the same height as the very tall girls. Look them straight in the eye.
He wondered if he should have worn a tie. He had on a dress shirt under a blazer. Maybe he would look older dressed more formally. But Professor Fleinhart didn't wear a tie and he wanted to look like a professor. But, then again, who took fashion advice from Professor Fleinhart?
He stood at the front of the class, nervously watching the students enter. They sized him up as they passed him, measuring him with their eyes. Some looked confused, others amused, some looked downright offended. Well, it was to be expected. One did not come to CalSci, one of the most respected schools in the country, expecting to have a 16 year old teaching your recitation section.
"Now, don't talk to fast," his mom had lectured him as she drove him to campus. He had wasted so much time getting ready, between picking out his outfit and reviewing his notes 100 times, he hadn't left any time to ride his bike. "And stay on topic. And try to use real world examples because that helps people understand. And don't use big words. And..."
"Mom!" he had snapped and she abruptly stopped talking. "It's not a big deal. All the grad students teach. I'll be fine." He wished he felt the same level of confidence that he projected for her benefit. "Listen," he said as they neared campus, "don't embarrass me, okay?"
"I know, I know," she said. "No hugging, no kissing, no honking, no waving, no breathing, no motherly gestures of any kind." She mimicked his chiding. "And absolutely no country music."
She pulled into a parking spot and turned to him. "Can we shake hands?" she asked, holding hers out.
Charlie rolled his eyes. "Mom, come on!" He got out of the car and began climbing the steps. Patsy Cline started blasting from her car stereo as she pulled away. He turned around in time to see her waving at him.
My mom, the comedian, Charlie thought.
All of the students sat in their seats staring at him. He could feel their eyes on him. He cleared his throat and shifted uneasily from one foot to the other.
"My name is Charles Eppes," he announced, trying to keep his voice steady, "and I'll be teaching the recitation section for Calculus Three. Basically, this is your chance to get help on any part of the class you don't understand. So, before I start, are there any questions about yesterday's lecture?"
A hand shot up in the middle of the class. Charlie breathed a sigh of relief. They saw him as a teacher, and not just some kid. "Yes?" he asked.
"Should we bring our textbooks or will you be using a comic book?" the student asked. Snickers abounded from around the room.
"That's real cute," Charlie retorted, dryly. "Your name?"
He didn't answer, but the guy sitting next to him called out, "Sam Baker!"
"Well, Mr. Baker," said Charlie, "I have office hours for students who are struggling in class. I assume I'll be seeing a lot of you there." More snickers, but this time they were at the student's expense.
Another hand went up. A girl, this time. "Yes?" Charlie said.
"How old are you?" she asked.
"I'm almost 40," Charlie retorted flatly. "I have a degenerative disease that makes me appear childlike. The doctors say I'll be dead before I reach 50."
The faces of the students were all stunned and slightly horrified. After a second, the same girl raised her hand again, much more hesitantly this time. "Is that true? About the disease?"
"The good news is that if I croak before the end of the semester, you all get A's," he elaborated.
Her eyes practically bugged out of her head. "Is that true?" she demanded.
"No," Charlie said. "I'm sixteen, I'm in perfect health, and the only way any of you are going to get A's is to study. Now, let's get started."
Charlie turned to the blackboard and began writing. Compared with dealing with his brother or his mom, this was going to be a cake walk.
