Detention seemed to be his extracurricular activity. Lucas had, within the last week, experienced it three times. His most recent experience with his morning ritual occurred on Friday morning. 7:00 am found him with his chin resting in his hands, his eyes fighting to stay open to avoid another detention on Monday, silently waiting for each hour long minute to pass. By taking a summer English class, he could graduate in three years, and thus leave high school forever. The question he couldn't help but think was, "did he want to." Having skipped kindergarten, third, and fifth grade, he was only 14. Graduating after three years would mean he would graduate at 15. This would put him in college at 16, and once again, the youngest student. Then again, graduating as soon as possible put him out of his father's house, and that could only be a good thing. In addition it would prevent any further detentions.
Of course, the entire plan depended upon his father agreeing to allow him to take a summer English course. Ever since he was three, Dr. Wolenczak had refused to acknowledge his son's brilliance. He had demanded that Lucas not read until he was five, despite the fact that the kid was clearly reading by the time he was three. Each time he skipped a grade, his father was not informed until after the fact. His mother had signed the papers. It was too bad for him that his mother had run off and simply disappeared off the face of the planet. He could probably convince his father that he had failed English and get him to spend a few extra dollars for what he thought was a second chance at 10th grade English, but instead enroll in junior English. He could wait until second semester of the next year to tell his father he was graduating. His father wouldn't be happy, but at that point he couldn't really do much about it.
It was two months later before he tried his plan. December break he got his grades back. Sheepishly, he approached his father. He wasn't a great actor, but the years had taught him a few tricks. His eyes avoided his father's eyes, whether it was acting, or because he was nervous about what he was doing. With no introductory comments at all, he blurted out, "I failed English." A huge grin grew on his fathers face, and a cruel brilliance shone in his eyes. "I knew you weren't as smart as you think you are." Lucas almost smiled, but realized that would give away the fact that something wasn't right about the situation. Instead he took a deep breath, and let it out loudly. "I need to go to summer school. It's only a couple hundred dollars. If I don't go, I'll be in high school another year, and that would cost you more than the class." His father turned his head to look at him. "Of course, that would make you resemble normal. I wouldn't have people trying to insist I send you to Harvard or Yale anymore." Lucas wasn't expecting this twist. He tried the only thing he could think of: begging. He told his father how all his friends would graduate before he did. He tried to impress upon his father that a year of school, after paying for lunches and parking passes cost more than the one summer class. Despite being one of the richest men in the country, his father could be counted on to give in to economic arguments.