A/n.: I am eternally grateful to all of my readers. Especially those of you who have remembered to review. Sorry for the short first couple of chapters. I just haven't really gotten used to writing down my thoughts. I have gotten a little faster at typing them up at least. Hope you will like this latest chapter. REMEMBER TO REVIEW.

I don't own any of the characters in this chapter except Michael the bully.

Chapter 3: Jimmy's P.O.V

Ug. So my life has taken another unexpected nose-dive. Yeah, turning into a kid was pretty bad. Okay, so it is really, really bad, but I never would have thought that I would have ever become a little kid who not only has the mind of a teenager, is a genius, and is legally blind.

Life sucks.

Right now every thing sucks. Especially having to remember to grab my glasses every morning. If I forget I normally end up running in to several walls and a door on my way to either the bathroom or breakfast.

The only good thing that I can think of right now about my most recent streak of bad luck is that it is reversible…Hopefully. The Doc never really told me if it was or not.

I really don't want to go back to being Jimmy Kudo and not be able to see didily squat. I really, really, really hate glasses. Especially getting teased about them by the new kid in class.

Basically, I am never looking forward to going to school again.

"Conan, will you please pay attention to my class. This is the eighteenth time you have fallen asleep in class in the past ten days. You do realize that math is a crucial part of every day life, don't you?"

Oh crud, I am at school right now.

"Yes ma'am," I replied sleepily. I could hardly see out of one eye and realized that my glasses had become crooked on my face from sleeping with them on. I really should remember to take them off next time.

"The little dork obviously knows all the answers already. Why else would he keep falling asleep?" said Michael. I really am beginning to loathe that boy. He is the bully that I was referring to earlier. He is the worlds largest butt head. If only I was a teenager right now. Then I could tell him off.

"Well Conan, I have to say that Michael actually has a good point, so I will quiz you. If you get all the answers correct, I won't tell your guardian."

"Okay. Sounds good to me." I replied, still kind of out of it.

"Alright now, I'll start with the basic things that we have been covering in this class. What is two times two?"

"Four."

"Two times four?"

"Eight."

"Apparently these questions are a bit two easy for you. I suppose that I should just make the questions a little harder. Two times ten is?"

"Twenty," I said, yawning. Could this class get any more boring?

"Three times eleven?"

"Thirty-three." Apparently it could.

"Conan, I think that Michael was right. You need something a little more challenging. I'll talk to some of the other teachers during lunch today about getting you transferred. Now everybody needs to get out their workbooks and turn to page twenty-seven."

Class continued on like this for another hour before it was finally time to go to lunch and recess. As usual I got done with my lunch quite quickly (the only person who sits with me that can eat faster than me would be George) and I headed out to the football field.

As I walked out to the field I realized that Michael was following me. That boy kinda freaks me out. But if he was planning on playing football against me, he better be prepared to get his butt whooped.

"Hey dork. Where do ya think yer going? Isn't there a rule against losers playing football? Well if there isn't there should be," said the worlds dumbest boy, I mean Michael.

"I'm sorry if you have some problem with me liking football and my being good at it," I replied nonchalantly. I really didn't care what that guy thought about me.

"Hey Conan. Is this guy bothering you?" George said as he came lumbering over, followed closely by the rest of the junior detective league.

"Yes, he is George. For once I don't care if you pound someone so long as you pound him," I said as I continued to walk toward the football field. The other kids were beckoning me over (they were choosing teams) and the two team captains were doing rock paper scissors over who got to have me on their team.

After a bit of team shuffling the game was about to start. Surprisingly enough, Michael wanted to play. That was strange because I didn't think that that boy would have enough brain cells to even begin to comprehend the sport.

I wasn't disappointed in his performance on the field though.

A trained monkey could've beaten him.

The one time that he did score a goal it was in the wrong goal. I mean come on, that is always funny, right? I had to stop and laugh at him.

Big mistake.

I learned very quickly why you should NEVER laugh at a bully. He came walking over and I swear he had steam coming out of his ears.

Then his fist collided with my face. He probably would've proceeded to beat me to a pulp if George hadn't stepped in and beat him to a pulp.

As soon as the punch landed on my face, the word fight rang out all across the play ground, to which all the teachers responded.

There was only one problem with this. My glasses had fallen off and I couldn't see enough to find them. The sound of crunching glass from one of the teachers accidentally stepping on them was the only way that I could figure out where they were.

"Oh, crud. I don't have a spare pair of glasses with me," I said to Amy who had come running over to where I was.

"I'll lead you to class," said Amy. She was obviously ecstatic over the opportunity for her to hold hands with me.

We gathered up the remains of the glasses and she led me to the nurse. I had a massive black eye forming plus I was hoping that the doc might've dropped a spare pair of glasses off at the office.

He hadn't. Big huge bummer.

The rest of the day was even worse because people kept looking at Amy and I funny because we were holding hands. One kid even started to do that sing-song thing about us sitting in a tree. Yeah, ha ha. That was so not funny. I looked at the kid but I was squinting so he thought that it was a death glare.

Finally this day is over and I am back at the Moore's. Poor Rachel she almost cried when she saw my eye.

But now it's time for dinner. Dinner should be easy for me to get through, right?

Hmm. Houston we have a problem. I dropped my fork.

"Rachel, can you hand me my fork?"

"Oh, Conan. Without your glasses you really are helpless. Here you go."

"Where'd you put it?"

"Hold out your hand."

"Thanks."

One more day like this and I'll scream.