A First Time For Everything

A MLAATR-Inspired Fanfic

By Shvique

Chapter 4— Concerns and Consternation

Jenny sat motionless on the edge of her bed in the early evening, staring at the phone on her nightstand for almost twenty straight minutes, silently debating with herself, over whether or not to pick it up and make the call.

Should I…? Or shouldn't I…? she repeatedly asked herself. Ohhhhhh, I sure wish he'd just call! Call me, like he used to…! Just to let me know how everything's going with him and everything…!

Over and over again, she felt the impulse to reach for the phone, and a couple of times, she even picked it up, hesitating only at the last moment before dialing.

No…no… she argued with herself. I don't wanna make it look like I'm pestering him or stalking him or anything like that… He wouldn't like that… Besides, if he wants to talk to me, then he can always call…

And so, reluctantly, she hung up the phone, put it back down again, and resumed staring at it.

Call! She silently commanded the phone. Come on, Sheldon! Call! Talk to me!

Finally, when she could bear it no longer, and with one final hesitation, she picked it up and at last forced herself to dial.

The phone at the other end rang a few times before it was answered. "Hello?" a weary-sounding female voice said.

Jenny felt as though all the lubricants in her entire body had congealed in an instant. For the voice on the other end belonged to none other than Sheldon's mother.

"Um… H-hello, Ms—I mean, Doctor Toshiro," Jenny began in a tiny, meek voice, correcting herself in midsentence. "Is Sheldon available? This is Jenny." She paused for a moment, listening to the silence at the other end, then clarified,
"Jenny Wakeman."

Another long silence followed before Dr. Toshiro replied curtly, "Just a moment," followed by the sound of a phone being set down, and a hollow-sounding, yet chilling, 'Sheldon! Telephone!', reverberating from the other end of the line.

Several moments passed, during which Jenny could just barely make out the sound of muffled, but intense voices at the other end. Although she couldn't make out the details of what was said, the voices sounded as though they were arguing; arguing over what, she couldn't tell. She tried increasing the gain on her audio sensors, but all she got was white-noise from the telephone-line. But whatever words were being exchanged, they sounded extremely unpleasant in tone.

At the very last, Jenny could make out Sheldon's muffled voice saying, "All right, Mom! All right! Jeez!" as he picked up the receiver, at which point, Jenny began to get a sinking feeling in her primary power-unit, suddenly wondering if calling him was such a good idea after all.

Just as the thought crossed her mind however, she heard his voice speak at the other end. "Hello?" he said, his voice quiet, but sounding tight and strained.

"Hello, Sheldon?" Jenny said. "Hi! This is Jenny!"

A moment of silence followed before he replied, haltingly, "Oh….h'lo…Jenny…"

"Um…I'm sorry about…" Jenny began, then decided to change her tack slightly. "Um…I hope I didn't call at a bad time…did I?"

A brief pause followed before Sheldon replied quietly, "No, no…" he hesitated. "It's not that, it's just…" Another pause. "Well…it's just that…Mom kind of wants me to limit my personal calls while I'm grounded. It's all part of the same punishment thing."

Oh, no…! Jenny thought. Now I've done it! I've gotten him into even more trouble!

"Oh…I'm sorry, I…I didn't know…" she said, weakly. "But isn't that…" she dropped her voice to a whisper. "I mean…you're not even allowed phone-calls? Isn't that kinda…you know…extreme?"

Silence followed at the other end for several moments, and Jenny immediately regretted asking the question.

"I don't know…" he finally replied flatly. "I guess… Maybe… I dunno…"

Another awkward silence.

"Anyway…" Sheldon spoke again. "What's on your mind? Is something busted on you and you want me to fix it? Well, I can't. I told you before, I'm not allowed workshop-privileges while I'm—"

"No, no, it's nothing like that," Jenny interjected, trying to set his mind at ease as to her motive for calling. "Nothing's broken on me or anything, I…I just thought I'd…you know…give you call…say 'hi,' see how you're doing and everything…" She paused awkwardly. "You know…just a friendly call, just to talk… Like we used to…"

"Oh," he said simply, sounding both surprised and puzzled by her words.

"So…so how—how are you…?" she asked haltingly, hoping her words didn't sound as weak and feeble as they felt.

"I'm…I'm fine…fine..." He paused; then, "How're you?"

"Oh, I'm good…"

And as quickly as the friendly conversation began, it ceased. Another vast ocean of silence followed, during which Jenny tried desperately to think of something—anything—more to say, knowing all the while that, by necessity, the call had to be kept brief. For a moment, she almost considered telling him about her adventure at the Dortmunder Bank the night before, but then changed her mind. It would take too long to tell the story in sufficient detail, and she doubted Sheldon would have the time or the interest at the moment to listen to it all.

She then tried scanning her memory-banks, searching for any small tidbits of information that she could share, on any subject she thought might interest him, anything having to do with science, technology, comic-books, basically anything to keep the conversation going for at least a little while longer.

But before any ideas occurred to her, Sheldon suddenly spoke up. "Well, Jenny, I—I hate to cut it short, but…" he said in a hushed tone. "Well, my Mom's kinda giving me the evil eye, so I think she wants me to hang up now."

"Oh…" Jenny replied, crestfallen. "O—kay…"

"Thanks for calling, though. I'll see you in school tomorrow. 'Bye." And with that, he hung up.

Slowly, reluctantly, Jenny did the same.

Well, that was pointless! She thought, in a mild, disappointed pique as she flopped onto her bed, flat on her back, her hands folded behind her head. Might as well have not even bothered! Not only had it been pointless, it had also made her feel like a complete fool for even having made the effort.

Ohhhhh, I sure wish he'd hurry up and finish being grounded already! she thought as she stared up at the ceiling with a frown. This is really getting on my nerves! Cripes, I never see him on weekends anymore, I barely get to see him or talk to him at school, and now I can't even talk to him on the phone?! What the heck is left?!

Absentmindedly, her eyes drifted around her room, until by chance, they fell upon the computer on her desk. An idea flashed through her mind then.

Well… she thought. There's one thing I haven't tried yet…!

She walked over to the computer, switched it on and sat down. Once it was fully booted up, she logged onto the Internet and then into her personal email. She then clicked the button for 'New Message,' entered a few keystrokes for a message-subject, then began typing a brief message, gradually increasing her typing-speed up to her usual rate of 300 words per minute. As soon as the final word was typed, she scanned through the message twice, giving it a thorough proofread in mere microseconds, inserted some links to articles that she felt sure would pique Sheldon's interest, then with one final read-through and a brief, satisfied nod, she hit the 'send' button.

There! She thought with a contented smile. That's sure to get a response!


The following morning, Brad and Tuck stood waiting before Jenny's front doorstep. Brad, characteristically, was completely and utterly relaxed, while Tuck, as usual, was a total nervous wreck.

"Jenny!" Tuck called out to their friend's upstairs bedroom-window. "Hey, Jenny!" He waited for a moment or two, then turned to face his brother. "Brad, I'm worried!" he said.

"Tuck, you're always worried," Brad replied with a yawn. "Sometimes I think you're nothing but one big pile of worries with a kid wrapped around it."

"Brad, I'm serious!" Tuck went on, the pitch of his voice rising in perfect unison with his growing anxiety. "There's no sign of Jenny today, we didn't see her at all yesterday morning, and when we saw her in the afternoon, she was acting all weird and everything!"

Brad sighed. "Tuck, she'll be here, all right? It's early yet. And as for yesterday, I already explained that to you. She had a late call the night before and didn't get much sleep, and—"

But Tuck remained unconvinced. "Oh, I dunno…!" he interrupted, with growing agitation. "I'm thinking maybe…like what if…what if maybe she got kidnapped by Vexus or somebody! And—and then an exact lookalike duplicate was put in her place! As part of some fiendish, diabolical plot to conquer the world! And—and—"

"You've been watching too many cartoons, Tiger!" Brad grinned down at his kid brother. "This isn't a cartoon, y'know! It's real life!"

But Tuck turned away, tuning out his brother's words, the way he often did when he heard something he didn't want to hear. He then drew an enormous breath, cupped his hands around his mouth to form a makeshift megaphone, and like a miniature Stanley Kowalski, bellowed out at the top of his lungs: "JENEEEEEEEEEEEE!" The resultant high-pitched sonic blast from the pint-sized foghorn caused all the windows in Jenny's house to rattle ferociously as if in a violent windstorm.

"JEEZ!" Brad cried, clamping his hands over his ears, his eyes tightly shut as he winced in pain. The magnitude of his kid brother's superhuman lungpower never ceased to amaze him. It was beyond nature, the way its sheer volume seemed to exceed his overall physical size. "Jeez, take it easy, Tuck! Take it easy! Look, see? Jenny's right there! See?" He pulled one hand away from an ear to point to their friend's second-story bedroom-window.

Sure enough, there Jenny's smiling face appeared, thoroughly unfazed by Tuck's devastating sonic blast. "Hey, guys!" she called cheerily to her friends below. "I'll be down in a minute."

"There, you see?" Brad grinned down at Tuck. "You're getting yourself all worked up over nothing! Again! As usual!"

"But how do we know that's the real Jenny?" Tuck eyed his brother suspiciously. "She could be just the fake Jenny, planted here as part of Vexus' fiendish plot, just like I was saying!"

Brad sighed, rolled his eyes and shook his head. Oh, brother! He thought. This kid's gonna stick to his script, no matter what!

Inside the house, Jenny stood before the full-length mirror on the bathroom door. She had transformed her left hand into a buffer/polisher tool, which she then used to wax and shine her enameled surface, going over and over herself, buffing and polishing every square millimeter until it fairly gleamed with a mirror-like sheen. She'd polished her legs, back, shoulders, arms, her head, and the back of her neck, until at last, satisfied with the result, she re-transformed the tool back into her usual left-hand configuration. She then checked and re-checked her reflection from all angles in the mirror one last time, to ensure that she hadn't missed a spot anywhere.

There, now! She thought with a self-satisfied smile. This is bound to catch his attention! He can't possibly miss this!

She then struck a variety of modeling poses, imitating those she'd seen in the pages of various teen glamour magazines, as she continued to admire herself from every angle in the mirror.

Lookin' good, Jenny! She thought as she smiled at her reflection. Lookin' real good!

She struck a few more poses, and then, with a final, satisfied nod at her reflection, she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. After a quick detour to her bedroom to pick up her backpack, she then headed downstairs.

"I'm leaving now, Mom," she called out to her creator, seated in the kitchen finishing her breakfast.

"All right, Dear," Dr. Wakeman replied. "Oh, and remember what I said. You are to come directly home today. No detours to Mezmer's or anything like that. Straight home. Do you understand?"

Jenny sighed at the unnecessary reminder, but otherwise voiced no objection. "I know, Mom; I know. I haven't forgotten."

"Well, all right then. Be a good girl now. Good-bye."

"'Bye, Mom," Jenny replied as she stepped through the front door and outside, closing the door behind her. Her two friends approached her, and the three then turned and proceeded down the block.

Brad looked his friend up and down as they walked and broke into a huge smile. "Say!" he exclaimed. "Look at you! You're looking pretty sharp this morning! All shined and polished! Just like a brand-new turbo-racer, right off the showroom floor!"

"Ah, thanks!" Jenny replied, her cheeks faintly glowing with a soft blush.

Even Tuck noticed as well, and he too regarded Jenny with a big, impressed smile, his concerns of only moments ago now forgotten for the moment. "Yeah!" he said. "You look real nice today, Jenny!" His smile was short-lived however, and his expression quickly reverted to one of suspicion. "If it is really you, that is!" he said, eying her narrowly.

"Huh?" Jenny asked, puzzled, after which she turned to face Brad. "What's he talking about?" she asked, pointing a thumb in Tuck's direction.

Brad gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Ahh, don't listen to him. He's off on another one of his nutty tangents again. He thinks that because you were running a little bit late yesterday and we didn't see you in the morning like we usually do, that means you must've been kidnapped by Vexus, and that a lookalike substitute was put in your place, and…"

Jenny merely stared at him blankly, and blinked, in a state of the most utter, complete confusion.

"Don't try to make sense of it," Brad said. "You'll only go crazy."

"Oh, brother!" Jenny muttered, bemused. Where does the kid come up with these nutty notions? She wondered.

But she turned to look down at Tuck with a smile. "Suppose I prove to you that I'm the real me, by telling you something that only the real Jenny would know. Would that convince you?"

"It might!" Tuck said, narrowing one eye. "But it'd have to be real solid proof! I'm not easy to fool, you know!"

"Okay. Ummm…" she thought hard. "Okay, how 'bout the time I took you to Texas for the World Cockroach-Wrestling competition? Or how about the time I somehow let you talk me into entering that stupid robot-wrestling competition, that I really didn't want to do?" She paused. Tuck seemed to remain unconvinced. "Okay, how about the time when you wanted to make a documentary about me for a school project, but instead, when the time came for the presentation, Brad dug out some old home-movies of you when you were a toddler and—"

"That's enough!" Tuck cried, waving his hands, cutting her off. "All right, all right, you convinced me!" Then he blinked, as though he'd just had an epiphany, and cried, "Jenny! It is you! It is you! You're the real Jenny!" He broke into a broad, beaming smile and opened his arms wide as if to embrace her. "Oh, Jenny! Welcome back!" He ran towards her and gave her a big hug. "Oh, we missed you so bad! And Brad was so worried! We just knew Vexus must've captured you and held you hostage! Was it terrible? Did she torture you? Did she threaten to dismantle you? Or…or was she maybe gonna drop you into a huge smelting-vat or something to make lawn-furniture out of you? How did you escape?! Did you tear down any prison doors? Did anyone help you in your escape? And how did you get back home? Did you commandeer a passing space freighter or something? Or—or did you hitchhike aboard a Vogon space-cruiser and ride it all the way back to earth? Or—or did you—"

Jenny turned to face Brad, who merely shook his head with an amused smile. "Crazy as a bedbug!" he snickered, cutting off his kid brother's further inquiries. "Anyhow, about your shiny new look this morning, what's the occasion? Are they re-taking class-photos today or something?"

"Oh, no, no… No special reason…" Jenny smiled coyly. "I just…felt like it, that's all," She caught the suspicious look that appeared on both the boys' faces. "What?" she asked. "Can't a girl take a little pride in her appearance once in a while?"

"Uh-huh…" Brad replied with a nod and a crooked half-smile, exchanging a quick, 'knowing' glance to his kid brother. You're not fooling anyone, you know! He thought. I know you're up to something!

The three resumed their walk to school without another word spoken about Jenny's shiny new appearance or her abduction-that-wasn't. Instead, a new idea occurred to Brad. "By the way Jen, I was just thinking," he said. "Final Exams week is coming up pretty soon and will be here before we know it. Wanna come over to my house after school today, so we can get an early start on studying for it? I really want to try to get good grades this semester, 'cuz if I do, then my dad says he's going to help me pay for a new car." He paused, then admitted, "Well…it's not really a new car; it's just my uncle Harry's old used beat-up yellow convertible. Still, for me it'll be new, and—"

"Hey, yeah!" Tuck chimed in, interrupting his big brother. "And then maybe after you guys are done studying, we can play Rockem Sockem Robots?"

She smiled at them both. "Thanks, guys, I'd sure like to," she hesitated. "But…I can't. I've got an extra practice-session this afternoon after school."

"Oh. Well, how 'bout tomorrow afternoon?"

"Sorry, I can't come tomorrow, either. I've got stupid extra practice sessions every day this week. Every day! And probably next week, too! Or at least until that stupid mega-improbability thing hits, whatever it turns out to be! If it ever hits, that is!"

Brad looked at her, disappointed. "Gee, that's too bad." He said in a sympathetic tone. "I take it your mom is really on your case about that thing, huh?"

"Boy, that's putting it mildly!" Jenny said. "She has no idea what the stupid thing is even going to be, but the way she's carrying on about it, you'd think it's a giant asteroid heading straight for Tremorton, about to punch a hole right through the middle of the earth or something! But instead, it'll probably turn out to be just a big nothing! And she's probably getting herself all worked-up over nothing, too! You watch! It'll turn out to be just another case of the boy who cried wolf all over again, and—"

"Boy, I'm never going to hear the end of that, am I?" Tuck exclaimed, automatically assuming the phrase referred to him.

"Relax, Tiger!" Brad shot his kid brother a sharp look. "We weren't talking about you!" He then turned back to Jenny. "Go on. You were saying…?"

"Well anyway, just that," Jenny continued, trying to collect her thoughts after the brief interruption. "Basically, just that my mom wants me to be extra-prepared for the mega-whatever-it-is. See, she wasn't too happy with the readings she got for my performance on my last mission, so she wants to make sure that I'm operating at absolute peak performance and efficiency if and when the stupid mega-improbability strikes."

"Say, speaking of that, I was just thinking," Brad said, an uncharacteristic look of concern suddenly appearing on his face. "You don't…you don't suppose that improbability-thing has anything to do with the Mugatu Cataclysm, do you?"

"The what?!" Jenny half-laughed, half-exclaimed. "What the heck is that?!"

"Oh, you never heard of that? Well, according to some belief-systems, tying together things like numerology, astrology, and ancient prophesies from medieval secret societies and who knows what else, the Mugatu Cataclysm is a doomsday event that's supposed to happen when a large, remote, wandering planet known as Mugatu, will intersect with the earth's orbit, causing massive, global disruptions and catastrophes and stuff. According to some interpretations of the prophesies, it might even knock the earth out of its orbit altogether and bring about the end of the world. And it's all supposed to take place sometime in the early 21st Century." He paused, as if for effect. "Like…like right about nowadays, in other words."

"Oh, that thing," Jenny replied. "Yeah, I know what you mean now. I've heard about that. I don't believe in it. I think it's just a nutty crackpot theory, that's all it is."

"Yeah, you're probably right. Yeah…yeah, that's probably all it is," Brad agreed. "It probably is just a lot of hooey. Still…I thought I'd better mention it anyway, 'cuz…well, you never know. It could turn out to be true."

"I doubt it. If there were any truth to it, if a large, wandering planet was on a collision-course with the earth, my mom's umpty-ump deep-space sensors and monitors and stuff would've picked it up weeks or even months ago."

Brad shrugged. "Well, that's true," he admitted.

"Say," Jenny said, eyeing him suspiciously. "How come you know so much about the Mugatu theory, anyway? You don't believe in that kooky stuff, do you?" She grinned.

"No, no, of course not," Brad hastily reassured her. "But my Cousin Rodney does. He's believed in it ever since he was my age. He's a total expert on it, knows all about it."

"Your Cousin Rodney…" Jenny responded thoughtfully. "Isn't he the one who used to run around the house wearing your grandmother's wedding-gown, throwing spaghetti on the walls? And now spends his days on street-corners in his pajamas, standing on a milk-crate and wearing a tinfoil hat?"

"Yep, that's Rodney," Brad replied.

Jenny merely stared blankly at him, not saying a word.

"We…we don't really take anything he says too seriously," Brad finally admitted. "He's a little bit strange."

"Yeah…yeah, you could say that," Jenny replied, stifling the urge to laugh out loud.

"Anyway," Brad said, eager to shift the subject away from his more unusual relatives. "Getting back to your performance-readings, you said your mom wasn't too happy about them. Did she say why? What was wrong with them?"

"Well…not exactly," Jenny said with a shrug. "Technically, my overall performance was still above the curve, but not much above. She thought it could be brought higher with more practice. Plus, she's got a whole bunch of new disaster and battle simulation programs that she wants me to run through, to test my responses to unpredictable and rapidly-changing situations." She shook her head. "I've never done this set before, but from what she told me about them, they sound like they're gonna be…pretty challenging."

"But…nothing you can't handle…right?"

She shrugged. "Well…see, that's the thing! I don't really know! I won't know what they're going to be like until I actually go through them. The program is designed to run through a randomizing matrix, which takes a bunch of different elements and then just kind of throws them all together and jumbles them up in random order, like a kind of 'data blender', and then feeds the results into a holochamber-simulator, where I—"

She caught the puzzled looks on both her friend's faces. "I—I don't really entirely understand it myself, to be honest," she admitted. "I mean, my mom explained the whole concept to me, back when she first started work on the initial designs for it, but after about the ninth paragraph or so, I kinda zoned out."

Brad smiled and nodded at her in understanding, then a new question occurred to his mind. "Say, wait a minute. Did you say your mom has a…a what, a holochamber?"

Jenny nodded. "Yeah. That's her own design, too. She finished it a couple of months ago. You oughta see it. It's a big, ginormous thing, about the size of a basketball court, which she keeps hidden away inside the kitchen broom-closet. And she wants me to start using it to train and practice with from now on, 'cuz it'll be way cheaper for me to train on simulated monsters and stuff, than have to constantly build new mechanical practice monsters for me to pound and pulverize."

"Yeah, yeah, that makes sense." Brad took this all in with nod of acceptance, before a cloud of confusion returned to his face. "But…but wait a minute. How the heck did she fit a basketball-court-sized holochamber inside a broom-closet? Or do you mean like the closet really just an elevator or a passageway to an underground chamber or something? Or what?"

"No, no, the whole thing fits into the broom-closet, just like I said."

"But…but how?!" He shook his head, still unable to grasp the concept. "I don't get it! How the heck's that even possible?"

"Well you know, that had me puzzled too, now that you mention it. The chamber is actually bigger on the inside than on the outside, and the simulator part is only a small portion of it. The entire holochamber even bigger than that! It's bigger than the whole entire house!"

"Huh?!" Brad asked, now completely baffled. "Okay, now I know you're making it up!" The faint traces of a smile began to tug at the corners of his mouth.

"No, no, I'm not," she assured him the utmost sincerity. "It really is bigger on the inside than on the outside. And when I asked my mom how that was possible, she said it operates according to the principle of Time and Relative Dimensions in Space."

"Say, what?" Brad asked, now so completely lost that now both he and Tuck had frozen in their tracks, as they struggled to make sense of Jenny's words.

"Time and Relative Dimensions in Space," Jenny repeated. "As I said, she explained the whole thing to me about a year and a half ago, when she was first working on the original designs for it, but as usual, her explanation made no sense to me. She said that the holochamber and the broom-closet actually occupy two separate dimensions in space, even though both of them are accessible to our dimension at the same time, and that the interior space of the holochamber can be expanded to the desired dimensions by altering, manipulating and adjusting the time necessary to fill it, and…and…"

She trailed off when she saw the pair of utterly blank stares now facing her, both so completely and utterly lost, that any further attempts at an explanation would only confuse them—and herself—further. She rubbed the back of her head and grinned sheepishly. "Like I said, it didn't really make any sense to me, either." she admitted. "All I know for sure is, the principle behind it wasn't her own discovery."

"No?" Brad asked, sounding somewhat surprised. "You mean there's actually something your mom didn't discover?" he grinned.

Jenny smiled and nodded. "She said it was a little trick she picked up from an old friend and colleague of hers from way back. Another scientist, but I can't remember his name." She shut her eyes in deep thought and repeatedly snapped her fingers, as she struggled to recall the name. "I think she said he was called Doctor…Doctor…"

"Who?" Brad asked.

"I can't remember," Jenny replied with a final shake of her head. "Anyway…I might be free to stop by for a visit sometime this weekend, if I can get through the practice sessions quickly and early enough."

"Then can we play 'Rockem Sockem Robots'?" Tuck asked again, still hopeful.

"Maybe," She smiled down at him. "On one condition."

"What?"

"That I get to be the blue guy this time!"

Tuck smiled in return. "Deal!" he said and with that, the trio turned and continued on their way.

They walked a bit further to drop off Tuck at Tremorton Elementary, and from there, Brad and Jenny proceeded on to Tremorton High.

They'd walked only a short distance before Jenny's ultra-sensitive audio-sensors picked up the unmistakable whirring sound of a small powered vehicle coming up fast behind them. She whipped her head around to look behind her, with a broad, anticipatory smile upon her face. The smile was short-lived however, and quickly dissolved the moment she saw that the source of the sound was a small, gas-powered minibike ridden by a young couple in their early twenties, apparently heading in the direction of Tremorton Junior College.

Brad noticed her response to the sound, along with her subsequent, rapidly-changing reaction to it. He regarded her behavior with a brief half-frown, but otherwise said nothing about it.

Instead, he chose to bring up an entirely different, wholly unrelated subject. "By the way," he said. "Just out of curiosity, how's your term-paper coming along? Are you having as much trouble with it as I am?"

"Oh, um…" Caught somewhat by surprise, Jenny took a few nanoseconds to collect her thoughts and reply. "Yeah…that…" she said. "To tell you the truth, I haven't even started the dumb thing yet." Gradually, her face began to turn sour at the prospect. "I mean, I finished the novel we were supposed to read for it a couple of weeks ago, but I still don't have any ideas for a paper to write based on it yet."

"Yeah, me neither," Brad replied sympathetically. "I finally finished the reading assignment the night before last, and tried to start my paper last night. I only got about a page and a half done before I started floundering! Only then did I suddenly realize that I don't know the first thing about how to write a term paper! I was totally lost!"

Jenny nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean," she said. "Writing's tough! Crikey, no wonder writers are all rich and famous! It's not so easy to write!"

"Yeah, really!" he grinned at her in complete agreement. "And what about these reading-assignments they give us! A bunch of gooey mush written like a couple hundred years ago or something? I mean, who the heck can relate to that stuff nowadays?"

"Oh, I dunno," she replied with a wry smile. "It's not too bad, I suppose, once you get into it. There's actually a lot of juicy stuff in there, if you know where to look for it and read it the right way. In a way, it's kind of like the soap-opera of its time! But yeah, you're right. Getting through all that old-fashioned language sure isn't easy."

"Yeah, it's kinda like trying to hack your way through a dense, overgrown jungle with a weed-whacker."

Jenny nodded. "Ohhhh, I sure hope I don't get called on in class today to discuss it," she said. "Or give an analysis or a stupid oral report on it or whatever! If I do, then I don't have a clue what the heck I'm gonna say!"

"Yeah, I know how you feel," he said, nodding his head sympathetically. "Who's your Lit teacher, anyway?"

"Um…Ms. Haghfische. For 'Romantic Era Literature.'"

At the mere mention of the name, Brad immediately made a sour face. "Yeesh!" he said, cringing. "I had her last semester! She's a real monster! I mean, if ever a teacher was well-named, it's gotta be her, right? Ms. Magwich Haghfische? I mean, come on now! Man, her parents must've really hated her, to give her a name like that!" he laughed. "But…on the other hand, maybe that's why she's so crabby all the time! If I had a name like that, I'd probably be crabby, too!"

Despite the grim prospect of the upcoming, unwritten term-paper, Jenny laughed out loud at her friend's observations regarding their teacher.

The pair walked another few blocks, and they soon arrived at the main entrance of Tremorton High. They stepped through the front doors and into a milling crowd of students, and Brad paused momentarily at the bulletin-board in the main hall, scanning the new items that had been posted there for the week, while Jenny turned and began scanning the bustling crowd. She scanned…and she scanned, as though searching for a specific target, but without apparent result.

At last, she spotted the subject of her search approaching from the opposite direction down the hall, a small figure examining a thick sheaf of papers in his hands as he walked. It was Sheldon.

There he is! She thought excitedly, her energy-levels increasing by several degrees. She was glad now that she'd taken the time to give herself an extra-fine polish that morning. He's bound to notice me now!

"Hi, Sheldon!" she called out cheerily with a wave and a beaming smile, confident that her friend would immediately notice her shiny, highly-polished appearance and compliment her on it. She beckoned, motioning for him to join her and Brad at the bulletin-board. "Over here! Come on! Join us!"

But just as it had been all week long, Sheldon's response when he spotted her was one of near-indifference. "Oh…h'lo, Jenny…" he said, glancing up from his papers only momentarily to make the briefest of eye-contact with her, as he continued walking, giving no indication of slowing.

"Say, did you get my—" She began to say, as he passed them by.

But before she could even utter the word "email," Sheldon checked his watch and suddenly increased his pace, hurriedly scurrying away with a hasty, "Sorry, Jenny, can't talk now, gotta run. See you later." And before Jenny could even respond, he was gone once again, lost in the milling crowd.

Just as he'd done every single time she'd seen him this week.

He did it again! She thought, both crestfallen and frustrated. Darn it! I got myself all extra cleaned up and polished this morning, and he didn't even notice! He didn't even look at me! He didn't even care! I might as well have not even bothered!

She sighed in silent, helpless frustration, lowered her face, and her entire body immediately sagged, as though all the energy had been suddenly drained right out of it.

Brad had by now turned around to witness the entire exchange, brief though it was, as well as Jenny's subsequent reaction to it. "Huh! That was weird!" he said. "Never seen Sheldon do that before."

"I know, right?" Jenny said, turning to face him "He's been acting like that for days now!" She turned her face away, as she plunged into a silent sulk.

The pair turned and proceeded to their lockers, and as they walked, Brad looked over at his friend. It was obvious that the brief exchange with Sheldon had hurt and upset her far more than she was letting on. Indeed, her mood was clearly taking a turn for the worse, turning increasingly sour and gloomy, in marked contrast to her upbeat and cheerful mood of only a few moments ago.

"Well…maybe he's got a class or something that he really, really needs to get to," Brad finally offered, trying to be helpful. "Or…something like that…"

"Yeah…" Jenny muttered glumly in reply, then fell silent again.

Brad drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, suddenly aware of a mysterious tension in the air which hadn't been there earlier.

They soon reached her locker, and she opened it, placing her backpack inside and taking out a binder, notebook and some textbooks, all without ever once uttering a single word. Which, of course, was highly unusual for her.

She shut the locker-door a bit more firmly than necessary, spun the dial, and turned to face Brad, her expression now quite grim and with a strange, almost wounded look in her eyes.

Is she…gonna cry or something…? He found himself wondering idly.

But before he had a chance to say anything to her, she spoke first. "Well…" she said, her voice curiously hollow in tone. "I…gotta get to my first class now, so…see you later?"

"Um…yeah. Sure, Jen. See you," Brad replied, and with that, Jenny turned on her heel and headed down a side corridor without another word. Brad continued to look gravely after her as she walked away.

Man, this thing with Sheldon, whatever it is, has really got her bugged! He thought. I know she hasn't said anything about it, and I know I probably shouldn't interfere, but… Oh, the heck with it! I'll just come right out and ask her about it! Today, at lunch! Just ask her what the heck is going on and get it over with! And I don't care if she does take my head off!

And so, with a decision finally made, and a determined nod to himself, Brad likewise turned and headed to his first class of the day.


Jenny sat sullenly at her desk, completely oblivious to the classroom lecture then underway, which at that moment, seemed to have so little connection or relevance to her life, that it might as well have been taking place on another planet.

I'm really, really getting sick of this! She thought, as she stared at the back of Sheldon's head where he sat, two rows over and a few seats in front of her. Why's he acting like this?! Why's he being so mean to me? He's treating me like I'm damaged goods or something! Cripes, I'm trying my best! I'm trying to be friendly! But no matter what I do, he acts like he doesn't even care! He barely speaks to me! He barely even looks at me! He doesn't give me anything! Cripes, for years, he acts like a total stalker, following me everywhere; then for two weeks straight, he avoids me like I got the Bromdollusian Plague or something! Now he's just plain ignoring me completely! I don't know which is worse!

"Ms. Wakeman…" a distant voice called out to her across a vast chasm of space-time from another dimension, like a random bit of cosmic white-noise, barely scratching the surface of her consciousness.

I've tried being patient with him, just like Mom said! Jenny's thoughts continued unabated. I've tried being extra-friendly to him, just like I promised I would, but it doesn't make any difference! It doesn't do any good! Nothing's changed, except that maybe he's not scared of me or angry at me anymore! Instead, he's just like…like nothing! Like there's nobody there inside him anymore!

"Ms. Wakeman…" the faint, ethereal voice repeated, like the last fading cosmic echo of a long-departed star in a distant galaxy.

Jenny ignored the voice, but paused in her thoughts just the same, focused instead upon the only logical conclusion which she could no longer ignore, no matter how painful it might be for her to face.

He…he just doesn't like me anymore…! She thought, sadly acknowledging for the first time the now-painfully-obvious truth. I mean, he hasn't said so out loud…he hasn't said much of anything, for that matter! But…it's obvious he just plain doesn't like me anymore! No matter what I do! He'll—he'll never look at me the same way again…! That stupid, goofy look on his face whenever I came near him…! With that goofy, glassy look in his eyes…and that stupid, goofy, crooked grin of his…! I'll…I'll never see that in him again…! Ever…!

For a moment, she felt a tiny sob well up within her and her eyes begin to fill with tears. She struggled to repress the sob and hastened to wipe away her tears before anyone around her noticed.

It's just like that stupid teacup! She thought with another tiny, repressed sob. Mom's stupid china teacup! Ooooo, I can't get that stupid thing out of my head!

Indeed, the incident had been buried in the back of Jenny's mind ever since the night it happened. Even though it was only a simple, minor accident, for which Jenny was entirely blameless, she nevertheless couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that she was somehow responsible for it, that it was all connected to her current situation in some crazy sort of way she couldn't explain. And in a way, the teacup seemed to symbolize her broken friendship with Sheldon as well: it too had been something special and unique, something which hadn't been fully valued and appreciated until it was too late, and was now, like her friendship with Sheldon seemed to be, shattered beyond repair.

Jenny shook her head, trying to dispel the thought, refusing to accept even the possibility of it. No…no…! She thought. I don't accept that! I…I just know we can be friends again! I just know we can! And I know I can make him like me again, too! Oh, if we could only get to spend some time together…! That's all it would take… Just spend a little time together…! Like we used to…!

"Ms. Wakeman…" the distant space-echo repeated, only instead of growing fainter, it now seemed to grow louder in volume, and seemed to come nearer now acquiring a vaguely ominous tone. Nevertheless, it failed to penetrate through to the inmost depths of Jenny's private thoughts.

But how? She wondered. How can we spend time together, with him being grounded and everything? I never even get to see him or to talk to him all that much in school, and I can't even talk to him on the phone, for Jobs' sake! Not even on the phone! I mean, come on now! That's ridiculous! His mom won't even let him use the phone? How strict does a mom have to be, anyway?!

"Ms. Wakeman…" The cosmic voice repeated, now no longer sounding like a faint, distant echo, but instead seeming to occupy the same solar system as that occupied by Jenny herself, and now acquiring a faint air of menace, like a starship arming itself for battle.

But…then it's not really her fault, is it…? Jenny reflected in her isolated gloom. It's mine! She felt another sob welling up within her, and struggled valiantly with all her might and willpower to repress it. No wonder she hates me…! And maybe…maybe…deep down inside…maybe Sheldon hates me, too…! Oh, I sure hope not…! Dear Jobs…! Please don't let him hate me…!

"Ms. Wakeman!" the deep, booming, rumbling voice bellowed from right beside Jenny like a burst of thunder, causing her to jump, startled.

"What?!" Jenny cried, her head snapping to immediate attention, to face the immense, imposing form of the very irate teacher standing before her like an industrial-sized refrigerator, beefy arms impatiently folded like a pair of stout, burly tree-trunks.

"Er…em…I mean… Y—yes, Ms. Rahttinbottim…?" Jenny said meekly.

There followed a ripple of giggles and snickers throughout the classroom, as the other students gleefully relished Jenny's moment of embarrassment.

"Ms. Wakeman…" the stony-faced teacher began, her voice now dripping with the most vitriolic, caustic sarcasm. "If you could possibly tear yourself away from those deep, highly-abstract and complex cogitations currently occupying your ultra high-tech mind long enough to respond to a simple question from a poor, struggling, overworked, underpaid, overtired and increasingly impatient teacher, would you please be so kind as to grace us all with the answer to question seventeen?"

Jenny regarded the teacher in total bewilderment for a moment, then glanced quickly down at the open notebook and textbook on her desk.

"Um… Um…" she uttered in a pitifully tiny, lost voice, as she desperately searched for clues to the location of the question indicated.

"On the board, Ms. Wakeman," the teacher pointed impatiently to the front of the classroom. "On the board!"

Jenny then stood up, devoting her full attention to the board, as instructed. There appeared a long, rambling, confusing, barely-legible collection of random scribbles which she assumed must be some sort of equation, and which she also assumed must have some tangential connection to the subject of the class. But precisely what connection that could be, she had no idea.

Nor could she hazard a guess as to the answer desired.

She stared and stared at the scribbled equation, desperately hoping that the solution might somehow reveal itself to her—but in vain. It was an equation that, under normal circumstances, she would've been able to solve and answer in the blink of an eye—but which, for some reason, she found herself quite unable to solve; her logic-circuits seemed to be strangely impaired somehow.

Ms. Rahttinbottim stood beside Jenny, her glowering stare seeming to bore holes right through her like a pair of high-powered industrial laser-beams, as she silently seethed in rapidly-diminishing patience.

Finally, Jenny gave up and had to concede defeat. Timidly, meekly, she shook her head in abject surrender, and turned to face the teacher again.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Rahttinbottim," She said with a pitifully-feeble shrug of surrender. "But…but I'm afraid I…I can't…!"

Another, louder ripple of snickers, giggles and barely-restrained laughter echoed throughout the classroom, and Jenny looked around at the mocking faces of the other students, each one displaying one variation or another of an expression which seemed to say, Geez, what a stupid robot!

All but one. Sheldon's was the only face that regarded her with neither a smile nor any indication of mocking laughter. Instead, his face seemed to convey an expression of…sympathy; almost pity, in fact. It was a fleeting expression, very subtle, very difficult to discern and lasted for only a moment, yet Jenny was sure she'd seen it.

The derisive laughter of the rest of the class lasted for only a moment longer before Ms. Rahttinbottim raised a beefy hand for silence, and only then did the laughter finally subside. The teacher then heaved a heavy sigh in an exaggerated display of exasperation, and spoke again.

"Very well, Ms Wakeman," she said with an edge as hard as carborundum, her grim countenance bearing an uncanny resemblance to a stubbed toe. "Since my lectures are apparently of so little interest to you that you cannot be bothered to give them your full attention for the fifty minutes out of the day that they require, then you shall receive a great big zero for today! Congratulations! Keep this up, and you'll be graduating at the very bottom of the class! If you even graduate at all, that is! More likely, about the only thing you'll most likely graduate to is back to kindergarten! Now kindly take your seat!" The teacher barked out the order in a particularly blistering tone, and Jenny immediately obeyed.

Ms. Rahttinbottim then turned to face the rest of the classroom, and took a deep breath, struggling to regain both her self-control and some degree of a professional air. "Now then," she said. "Is there anyone else who would care to venture an answer to question seventeen?"

Out of habit, Sheldon's hand almost shot right up. He knew the answer perfectly of course, as he usually did, but…at the last possible instant however, his hand froze, mere inches above his desktop. With a quick glance in Jenny's direction—which she never noticed—he then slowly lowered his hand again.

The furtive movement of Sheldon's hand also went unnoticed by Ms. Rahttinbottim, and she continued to scan the classroom, searching for the next involuntary volunteer.

"Mr. Skorznizy," the instructor finally called out to the short, squat, nearsighted little student seated in the back row, who appeared at the moment to be sound asleep. "Perhaps you might like to answer the question for us."

The small, rotund little student started, as though suddenly awakened from a deep slumber, then slowly, lethargically rose to his feet. He peered narrowly at the blackboard for a few moments, adjusted his glasses, then cleared his throat and replied, "Yes," his voice utterly calm. "The answer to L, U and E is…is…" he paused, as though for dramatic effect.

"Forty-two." He concluded quietly.

Ms. Rahttinbottim blinked in absolute astonishment, staring at the student with an incredulous How in the world could you possibly know that? expression on her face, then glanced at the board, and then back to the student again, as though still not quite able to believe that he had, in fact, provided the correct answer. Finally, she regarded him with a grudging but satisfied nod of approval.

"Yes…yes, that is correct," she said, as she hastily regained her slightly-shaken composure, concealing as best she could her amazement that one of her students had apparently been actually paying attention for a change. "Very good. Well done. Thank you, Mr. Skorznizy. You may sit down."

She then turned and proceeded to the next stage of her lecture. Gerard Skorznizy, meanwhile, merely did as he was instructed, settling back into his seat, where he promptly drifted right back to sleep again. ("I guessed!" he later admitted to his friends when the subject came up during their lunchtime conversation.)

Jenny glanced quickly around the room one last time, catching a few, final smirking, mocking looks here and there from various students, before they each turned away, one by one, to face the front of the classroom.

The last face remaining however, belonged to that of Sheldon, who continued to look at her for a moment longer before he too turned away.

But just as he turned however, Jenny thought she saw him briefly shake his head…

…and roll his eyes.

She couldn't be sure whether she'd actually seen it or not; yet somehow, it seemed to hurt just as much as if she had.


End Chapter 4