A First Time For Everything
A MLAATR-Inspired Fanfic
By Shvique


Chapter 11—Conflicts and Contrasts

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunchtime, and the students throughout the cafeteria rose from their tables, and started heading for the exit. They moved at a leisurely pace, no longer ravenous for mid-day nourishment, and in no particular hurry to return to classes for the remainder of the day. Instead, they ambled along in a distracted fashion, their thoughts preoccupied with a combination of anxiety over upcoming finals, combined with eager anticipation of Summer vacation, now only a few weeks away.

The only one to rise from her table with a clear, distinct singleness of purpose was Jenny, with yet-another goal now firmly planted in her mind; another in a long series of strategies with which she'd hoped to win back Sheldon. She fixed her gaze on him as he rose from his seat in the distant corner, with Bernice doing likewise beside him. Jenny continued to track his progress toward the exit as he made his way through the dense, slowly-moving crowd.

Brad quietly observed his robotic friend, knowing full well her intentions. As he also rose from the table, he decided to make one final attempt to reason with her.

Mustering his courage, he spoke up. "Um…Jen…" he began gently.

The words were barely out of his mouth however before Jenny cut him off. "I don't want to hear it," she said curtly, not even looking at him. "My mind's made up and that's it!"

"But—"

"That's it!" She made a sweeping motion with her hand, as if to settle the matter once and for all.

And that was it. The tone of her voice alone made it clear that further discussion of the issue was out of the question.

Brad sighed, picked up his tray and carried it over to the trash and recycle-bins. He dumped the trash and the empty containers, then placed the now-clear tray onto the return-rack. Jenny followed likewise, carrying her tray over to the trash and recycle-bins, clearing it, then turned and headed for the exit.

Once out in the hallway, Jenny quickly scanned the crowd, spotting Sheldon and Bernice at once, then proceeded to follow them at a discrete distance, taking care not to draw attention to herself.

She quietly observed them now, both with pleasant smiles on their faces as they conversed amiably with one another, and with each passing moment the frown on her face intensified.

She's got her nerve! She thought. Barging right in like that! Acting like she's Sheldon's best friend in the whole world! Just who the heck does she think she is, anyway? Does she really think she's got a chance with him? Psh…please! As if!

She also reflected on Brad's comments earlier, and found a fresh source of annoyance. Jealous! She thought peevishly. Jealous of what? Of that creature? Pfft…! Please! I'm not jealous! I just don't like anyone moving in and trying to take away what's mine, that's all! And Sheldon is mine! Everybody knows that!

Brad followed beside Jenny, studying her darkening mood in total silence. He knew that something ugly was coming, and very soon. And he did not want to get caught in the middle of it.

He slowed his pace slightly and spoke up. "Well Jen, um…" he said, striving for an acceptably-neutral tone. "I…I gotta get going to class now, and it's down that way, so…" he indicated an oblique direction with his thumb. "Talk to you later?"

"Hm?" Jenny said, briefly turning back to face him. "Oh…yeah… See you…" She replied absently, then turned her attention back to the pair of targets a few paces ahead of her.

Brad hesitated for a moment longer, then veered off down a side corridor to his next class. I sure hope she realizes what she's getting herself into! He thought.

Jenny meanwhile continued to follow Sheldon and Bernice, gradually closing the distance between herself and the pair.

Just as she was within a few paces of them however, Bernice suddenly came to a halt, and turned to face Sheldon.

"Well," she said, smiling demurely. "I…I have to go to a stupid P.E. class now, so…see you later?"

Sheldon returned her smile, and nodded. "Okay," he said. "I got a history class myself now, so… I'll see you later."

She nodded. "'Bye," She replied.

With that and a final wave, they parted and each headed in opposite directions, with Sheldon turning down a side-corridor, and Bernice heading towards the girls' locker-room.

With Sheldon now safely out of the immediate area, Jenny approached the small, chubby ginger girl, and called out to her, "Hey! Hey, you! Come here! I wanna talk to you a sec!"

The girl continued walking steadily along however, without the slightest slowdown in her pace, as though thoroughly oblivious to Jenny's calls.

"Hey! Hey!" Jenny repeated, in a louder, more strident tone. "I'm talking to you!"

Finally, the short ginger girl slowed to a full stop and turned lazily to look up and face Jenny, who now towered over her. The girl coolly looked Jenny up and down, clearly not intimidated in the slightest. "Are you speaking to me?" she asked in a vaguely bored tone.

"Yes!" Jenny cried. "Who do you think I'm yelling at?"

"Well then, would you kindly have the courtesy to address me by name?"

Jenny sighed in annoyance. "Okay, fine!" she said. "Denise, right?"

"It's Bernice!" The ginger girl corrected her sharply.

Jenny sighed. "Whatever!" she grumbled. "Okay, Bernice, I just want to ask you—"

"That's better," Bernice said, with an air of smug satisfaction.

Jenny ignored the remark and continued. "I just want to ask you something. What exactly is going on between you and Sheldon, anyway? How long have you two been going together?"

Bernice stared icily at Jenny through her thick lenses, and placed her chubby hands on her broad hips. "And just what business is it of yours?" she asked coolly.

Jenny blinked. "Excuse me?!" she said, one eyebrow raised. "It very much is my business! Sheldon happens to be a friend of mine, and I just want to know—"

"Oh, is he, now?" Bernice asked haughtily. "Is he a friend of yours? Really? Psh… It's news to me! And I think it'd be news to just about anybody else around here who's been paying attention."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, I think you know perfectly well what it means!"

"Well, suppose I don't? Suppose I'm a complete idiot, and you have to explain it to me?"

The two woefully-mismatched girls squared off against each another, facing each other down, each one staring virtual daggers at the other.

"I'm talking about the way you treat him!" Bernice said. "You don't treat him like a friend; you treat him like dirt! Like he's trash!"

Jenny's mouth dropped open. "I don't do that!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, you do!" Bernice countered. "You do it all the time!

"You're crazy!"

"Am I?"

"Yes!"

"Hey, I may wear glasses, but I'm not blind!" Bernice said. "I've seen you! And I'm not the only one to notice it, either. Ask anyone. Everybody knows how badly you treat the poor guy! Ever since you first arrived at this school! It makes me sick to see it!"

"I don't treat him like trash!" Jenny asserted. "Or like dirt! I told you, Sheldon's my friend!" She paused, then added, "I mean…yeah, sure, he and I may have our differences, and yeah, we quarrel sometimes, but we are still friends, and—"

"Yeah? Well, if that's the way a friend treats him," Bernice shot back sharply. "Then he sure as heck doesn't need any enemies, that's all I've got to say!" She turned on her heel, about to walk away, but Jenny stopped her.

"Now, hold on!" Jenny said. "Wait just darned a minute! First of all, you don't have the slightest idea of what you're talking about! You don't know how things really are between me and Sheldon! And let me tell you something else—"

"No, let me tell you something, Ms. Jenny Wakeman, Super Heroine of the world!" Bernice cried, standing on her toes and getting right up into Jenny's face—or at least as close to it as she could manage, inasmuch as Jenny was a foot and a half taller than her. "You're the one who doesn't have the slightest idea of what she's talking about!" she went on. "Maybe you're the big hero of this town, saving the Earth every other day and all that, and maybe you have the strength of a million and seventy men, and yeah, you have all kinds of cool weapons and gadgets and all that junk, but what you don't have is the slightest idea of how to treat people! Believe me, you've got a lot to learn in that department, Sweetie!" She shook a stubby finger in Jenny's face as she spoke, punctuating the words.

"That's not true!" Jenny countered. "I do too know how to treat people!"

"No, you don't!" Bernice replied, settling back onto her heels and placing her hands back on her hips. "And given the way you do treat them, it's no wonder you don't have any friends!"

"I do so have friends! Lots of friends!"

"Oh, really?" Bernice said, cocking her head to one side. "Like who, for instance?"

"Well, Sheldon, obviously, and—"

"Hmph! That's debatable!" Bernice scoffed.

Jenny ignored the interruption and went on. "And Brad and his little brother of course, and then there's all the guys in the Gamers' Group, guys like Quinton and Flynn and—"

"Oh, is that so?" Bernice said, interrupting once again. "They're all 'friends' of yours, huh? Well if that's so, then I can only assume it's because they don't know what you're really like! If they did, then they wouldn't want to be around you either! Any more than Sheldon does! Or anyone else, for that matter!"

"Now, listen you!" Jenny replied, pointing a steel finger at Bernice's face. "It so happens that I've been friends with Sheldon for a very long time! A whole lot longer than you've been around! So you've got no right to judge! And furthermore—"

"Well if that's true, then what did you ever do about it, huh? Huh?!"

Jenny blinked, momentarily puzzled. "What do you mean, 'what did I ever do about it'?" she asked. "Do about what?"

"You say you're friends with him a long time, right? But what did you ever do to show him any friendship? Any real friendship? To really be a friend to him? Hmm? Answer me that."

"Well, I…I…" Jenny stammered, the question caught her somewhat unprepared. "I…I've been nice to him…" She answered feebly.

"I mean specifically," Bernice demanded. "What specifically did you ever do for him, huh? Huh?"

"Well, I…I…" Jenny struggled to think, but specific examples she could name seemed strangely elusive. "I…I defended him against some bullies one time!" she said when one example occurred to her.

"Oh? One time, huh? And when was this?"

"Oh, well, it was…" She hesitated. "A… A couple of years ago…"

A chilled silence followed as Bernice stared icily at her.

"A couple of years ago," Bernice repeated, placing a chilly emphasis on the time element specified. "Anything else since then? Anything at all?"

"Well, I…I…" Jenny continued to stammer, as she struggled to come up with further examples.

"Come on, come on, don't waste my time!" Bernice prompted, impatiently tapping her foot. "Tell me! What specifically have you done to be a real friend to him?"

"Um…" Jenny mumbled, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other, but more examples continued to elude her. "Umm…"

With no response forthcoming, Bernice finally answered her own question. "I'll tell you what you did for him, Ms. Jenny Wakeman, Super-Heroine of the World: Nothing! Absolutely nothing! Not a darned thing! You only pretended to be Sheldon's friend, and only when it was convenient for you, that's all! You used him, only as he suited you, only when you felt like it! And when you were through with him, you just…tossed him aside, just like that!" She punctuated her point with a snap of her stubby fingers. "Like he was nothing! Nothing but an old toy you didn't want to play with anymore!"

Ouch! Jenny thought. That one really hurt! Though she tried not to show it, the words cut through her, striking far too close to home, as they recalled the story about Tuck suddenly losing interest in a favorite action-figure of his when he was very young.

"And yet you still expected him to always be there waiting for you, didn't you!" Bernice went on. "Waiting for the next time you needed him for something, right where you tossed him aside! Didn't you! Only things didn't quite work out that way, did they? No, instead you wake up one day to discover that Sheldon's finally had enough of you and your nonsense! He finally got sick of you and moved on! He had to learn the hard way that there are mean girls like you in this world, and that he needs to protect himself from them! He finally realized that you never liked him, you never cared about him and you never will!"

"No, no, you're wrong!" Jenny cried. "I do so care about Sheldon! And I am his friend, no matter what you say!"

"You're really not, you know," Bernice said with cool, self-assurance. "If you were, you wouldn't have treated him so horribly all this time!" She tilted her head condescendingly and continued. "You know what you really are, Ms. Jenny Wakeman, Super-Heroine of the World?" she said. "I'll tell you. You're nothing but a 'dog in the manger.' That's all. Just a 'dog in the manger.'"

Jenny blinked in bewilderment. She'd never heard the phrase before, and had no idea what it meant. But she knew from the context and tone of voice in which it was used that it couldn't mean anything good. Suddenly, one possible meaning occurred to her, and she frowned. "Hey, wait a minute!" She snarled. "Are you calling me a—"

"No, stupid, that's not what that term means," Bernice interrupted with a smug grin, immediately and accurately realizing Jenny's misunderstanding. "It means you don't really want Sheldon for yourself. You just don't want anyone else to have him! A 'Dog in the Manger' has no use for a manger; he only lays in it out of spite to keep the other animals from using it! And that's how you are with Sheldon. Oh sure, you've been putting on a big show all morning long, pretending to be his best friend and everything, but the truth is, you're only hanging around him just to keep anyone else from getting near him! You're just a 'Dog in the Manger,' that's all. And you're not even honest enough to admit it!"

"That is the stupidest crock of baloney I ever heard!" Jenny cried. "In the first place, I—"

"Oh, is it?" Bernice interrupted. "Well, look at the facts. When you thought that nobody wanted Sheldon, then you didn't want him either, did you? You just pushed him aside, the way everybody else did. But now that somebody elsedoes want him, well…now it's a whole 'nother matter, isn't it? Isn't it?" She bounced on the balls of her feet, as if to drive home her point. "And it's only because you don't have him at your beck and call anymore, that you suddenly pretend to be interested in him! Well, guess what, Sweetie! It's too late for that! Sheldon's on to your little game now, and he's not falling for it anymore! So face it: You missed your chance with him! You blew it! And now he doesn't care about you anymore!"

"No, no, you're wrong!" Jenny cried. "You're wrong! About me, about Sheldon, about—about everything!"

"You can drop the act now," Bernice said with an irritating smirk. "You're not fooling anybody with it. Everybody knows you really can't stand him."

"Stop saying that!" Jenny thundered. "This isn't an act!"

"Oh, no?" Bernice lifted a haughty eyebrow. "Well, if it's not an act, then what is it? Hmm? It can't be that you really care about him, can it? It can't be that because—let's face it—we both know that you really don't. So what could it be? Could it be…guilt? Could that be it? Hmm? Maybe you feel guilty, because of the horrible way you treated him in the past? And now you're trying to make up for it?" She smirked. "Is that it? You feel guilty and you're just trying to clear your conscience?"

Jenny's mouth dropped open. "Guilty?!" she cried. "Why would I…? I—I don't...! I don't feel guilty! About anything." She sputtered, struggling to put up a bold front.

"Mm…Maybe," Bernice replied with an infuriating, insolent calm. "Maybe you do, and maybe you don't. But if you don't, then that's even more pitiful, really." She cocked her head to one side and continued. "Either way, you're not Sheldon's problem anymore. You got that, Honey? You're not his problem. So if you do feel guilty and you're trying to ease your conscience or whatever, then go cry on somebody else's shoulder! You got that? Sheldon's not available! He's done with you!"

"He's…he's not done with me…!" Jenny sputtered, the words catching in her vocoder. "He's not…!"

"Oh yes he is, Puddin.' Apparently, you're just too clueless to realize it yet!" Bernice smirked, rubbing it in deeper with every word. "And that's what really galls you most of all, isn't it? It galls you to no end that, for once in your life, you can't have what you want! That for the first time, Sheldon's not waiting on you whenever you want him! And because you can't have him, that drives you crazy! Well, good! I hope it does drive you crazy! And you better get used to it Honey, because this is it for you from now on! Face it: You don't have Sheldon to kick around anymore!"

"No, no, no…!" Jenny replied, shaking her head furiously. "You're wrong…! You're so wrong…! About everything! Sheldon's not done with me! He does still care about me! In fact…in fact, he'd have joined me for lunch today if it hadn't been for you butting in the way you did!"

"Um, excuse me Sweetie, but I didn't get in anyone's way or butt in!" Bernice shot back. "You're the one who did that, remember? The fact is that Sheldon asked me to have lunch with him. That was his choice. And why do suppose he did that? Hmm…? Hmm…? Answer me that!"

"Well, I…" Jenny searched frantically for an answer that, in truth, still eluded her. "I mean I… Well, I just assumed that…he just…" she paused, then blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. "He probably just felt sorry for you, that's all! Sure! He only sat with you out of pity! 'Cuz he's such a naturally soft-hearted guy and you're such a pathetic loser, and he knows that nobody else in the universe would ever sit with you, so he just took pity on you!" Jenny found herself uttering the kinds of words she'd never spoken before in her life to anyone, and they sounded strange coming from her. Moreover, they even felt strange. And as soon as they left her vocoder, they failed to sound even remotely convincing to anyone, not even to Jenny herself.

"Hah!" Bernice laughed, refusing to take the bait. "Trust you to get it wrong! The truth is, Sheldon doesn't simply 'feel sorry' for me. He chose to sit with me today instead of you because he prefers my company over yours! It's that simple! And you know why, too!"

"Oh, please!" Jenny snorted. "If you seriously believe that Sheldon could ever possibly care anything about you, you're kidding yourself! You are so not his type it's a joke!"

"Oh, and you are, I suppose?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am!" Jenny countered, with her hands also now resting on her hips, though they were clenched into fists.

"Yeah…sure you are…!" Bernice replied with a mocking sneer.

"Well, I am!" Jenny insisted, though with slightly less conviction.

"Uh-huh…"

"Well, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, if you don't know, I'm certainly not going to tell you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Isn't it obvious? I think you know…"

"So what are you trying to say? Huh?" Jenny's eyes narrowed. She suspected what Bernice was hinting at, and she didn't like it one bit. "Come on, say it! It's 'cuz I'm a robot, isn't it? Huh? Huh! Well if that's what you mean, then why don't you just come right out and say so?"

"Um no, stupid, I'm not talking about that," Bernice replied in a condescending tone. "That has nothing to do with it. The reason you're not Sheldon's type is because you have nothing to offer him, nothing to give. Nothing, that is, except heartache. I, on the other hand, can give him something real, something genuine, something that you can't give him: Friendship! Real friendship! And Sheldon knows that somebody like me, somebody who likes him, cares about him, understands him and accepts him for what he is, can be a far better friend to him than you've ever been, or ever could be!"

"But I have been a good friend to him!" Jenny cried. "I already told you that! Haven't you been listening?"

"Sorry, Toots," Bernice replied calmly. "But your words don't hold up to facts. The truth is, you don't have it in you to be a good friend to anybody. And the reason is because you don't care about anybody! You only care about yourself!"

Jenny reeled at the statement, as though a percussion-grenade had impacted upon her thorax and exploded violently. "That's not true!" she cried.

"You can deny it all you want," Bernice replied with cool self-confidence. "But deep down, you know it's true. That's why Sheldon doesn't want to be around you anymore. He prefers being with somebody who knows how to treat him; somebody who can be kind to him and who can make him feel good about himself, instead of putting him down and rejecting him all the time, the way you do!"

"I…I don't do that…!" Jenny replied, shaking her head. "I…I…I don't put Sheldon down…! Or reject him…! You're…you're so completely wrong…about everything! And…and what would you know about it anyway?"

"Oh, I do know Puddin', and whole lot more than you do, apparently," Bernice smirked.

"Oh, you do, huh? Well, who the heck are you? I've never seen you anywhere within a million miles of him before today. So why should I listen to you? Or believe anything you have to say? As far as I'm concerned, you're just a nobody! A nobody from nowhere who crawled out from under a rock one day and suddenly decided she's gonna be Sheldon's best friend from now on! And you think I'm going to just accept that and believe it without question? Pfft! Please! Don't make me laugh!" She made a sweeping motion with her hand, as if doing so would dismiss Bernice's entire argument. "Cripes, if anyone's pretending and kidding herself about anything around here, it's you, not me!

"No, Jenny. I'm right." Bernice replied, a huge, self-assured smile on her face. "And I'll let you in on a little secret, Sweetie: Deep down inside, you know I'm right! And I know you know it!"

She paused with an arrogant toss of her head and went on. "So if you have any sense at all, any sense of simple, common decency,you'll stay away from him from now on. Just stay faraway, and leave him alone!"

Jenny blinked in surprise, then her features hardened into a fierce scowl. "Hey, wait a second!" she said. "Are you threatening me? I don't like being threatened! By anyone! Least of all you!"

"I'm not threatening you, stupid; I'm simply telling you," Bernice clarified with cool self-confidence. "And yeah, I know you're way bigger and stronger than me, and you could easily flatten me if you wanted to. But you know what? I don't care. I'm not scared of you! You hear me? I'm not scared of you! And you know why? Because I know I'm right, that's why! So does everyone else! So if you want to keep up this phony act of yours, suddenly pretending to be 'best buddies' with Sheldon, when everybody knows you can't stand him, you're only going to end up making a fool of yourself!"

"I am not making a fool of myself!" Jenny snarled.

"Oh, no?" Bernice asked, her eyebrows raised. "Well then, fine. Don't listen to me. Disregard everything I said. Keep going the way you're going. Keep on being your usual clueless, obnoxious, intrusive self. And you know what'll happen? You'll end up making an even bigger fool of yourself! You'll be the laughingstock of the whole school, even more than you are already! And not only that, but everyone will see and know you for the phony hypocrite and fraud that you are! Oh, and don't be surprised if you also end up losing the rest of those so-called 'friends' of yours, too! Just like you already lost Sheldon! You'll end up all alone, and it'll be all your own fault! And it'll darned well serve you right!"

"No…no… You're wrong…" Jenny said quietly, still shaking her head. "You are so completely wrong, it's downright pitiful…"

"No, XJ-9; you're the one who's pitiful, not me." Bernice replied softly, her words quietly poisonous, addressing Jenny by her designation rather than by her chosen name, as though deliberately calculated to wound her deeply. And she succeeded, for it caused Jenny to shudder in spite of herself, further shaking her already-faltering self-confidence. "You're pitiful because you know I'm right, you know that what I'm saying is the truth…and yet you still can't face it." Bernice paused, shaking her head in faux sorrowfulness. "You're worse than pitiful, in fact," she said, her soft voice full of vitriol. "You're pathetic."

Jenny winced at the muted but caustic words, shutting her eyes tightly.

"So for your own sake and for his," Bernice went on, quietly but firmly. "Why don't you do yourself a favor and just stop right now. Really. Do everyone a favor and just stop. Get a clue into that thick metal cranium of yours once and for all, do the right thing and just step aside. Just stay away from him from now on. He obviously doesn't want you anymore. So just…leave him alone. That's all. Just leave him alone."

"No…no…" Jenny continued to repeat weakly, in a small, thoroughly-defeated voice, unable to respond with anything else, as though the words were hopelessly caught in a loop.

"Haven't you ruined his life enough as it is?" Bernice asked softly, her lowered volume only enhancing the impact of her words. "Haven't you caused enough harm?" She paused, and finished with, "Have you no sense of decency, XJ-9? At long last?"

Jenny shuddered again. Slowly, she opened her eyes and stared down at the much-smaller girl, feeling nearly on the verge of open, outright tears. Repeatedly, she opened her mouth, trying to say something—anything—in response, trying to muster a truly devastating comeback, but…nothing came.

With no further response forthcoming, Bernice finally concluded the argument. "No…no, I didn't think so," she said quietly. "Now…if you'll excuse me, I have a class to get to." With that, she turned on her heel and strutted away in triumph, a huge, self-satisfied smile on her face

Jenny remained standing in place, trembling with turbulent and overwrought emotions, as the devastating words continued to echo and reverberate in her mind.

She…is wrong…! She struggled to reassure herself. She is! Completely wrong...! About me…about Sheldon…about everything…!

Yet even as she thought this, a tiny, terrible possibility began to form in her mind. She began to wonder if maybe…just maybe…there might be some small particle of truth in Bernice's words after all; that perhaps…Bernice might even be…right…

No! Jenny immediately argued with herself, dismissing the intolerable possibility. No, that's impossible! She's not right! She doesn't know what it's really like between me and Sheldon! He really does like me! He does care about me, and he does want me! I just know he does! And I care about him, too! Despite what that nasty little brat says, I do care about him!

It was only then that Jenny suddenly became aware of a sizable crowd gathered all around her, apparently watching and listening in absolute silence to the entire exchange that had taken place between herself and Bernice. The sight of all the staring, silent faces surrounding her on all sides infuriated her all over again, and she soon found a renewed anger and fighting spirit that only moments before had strangely eluded her.

"What are you all staring at?!" she bellowed at the volume of a diesel-locomotive horn. "Get outta here!"She waved her hands furiously at the crowd, as though to chase them away like a swarm of bothersome gnats.

Slowly, the crowd thinned out and dispersed, bit by bit, students ambling away while occasionally throwing dirty looks over their shoulders in Jenny's direction, often accompanied by a variety of muttered remarks and comments. "Cripes, what a jerk!" was a typical comment, along with some others that Jenny couldn't quite discern.

She was just about to turn and head for her P.E. class when a rough, gravelly voice barked at her from her immediate right: "Wakeman!"

The moment Jenny heard the voice, she cringed. She knew that voice all too well. It was a voice both feared and dreaded by the students of Tremorton High, as it belonged to none other than Vice-Principal Razinski, who for some unknown reason, seemed to have some sort of personal, vindictive grudge against Jenny, ever since her first arrival at the school two years earlier.

Slowly, she turned to face him. "Yes, Mr. Razinski?" she said, trying—and failing miserably—to transform her pent-up fury and frustration into an attitude somewhat resembling meek, respectful humility.

"In my office! Now!" The portly and perpetually-peevish vice-principal jerked a thumb in the opposite direction down the hall.

"Yes, sir…!" Jenny muttered quietly, though on the inside, she continued to privately curse and grumble and complain to herself.


While Jenny and Bernice were engaged in their heated and somewhat mismatched argument, the group of boys known as the "Gamers" were gathered a short distance away down a side-corridor, and were also engaged in a debate, although on a much less-heated level, and on a much less-serious topic.

"Guys, I'm telling you," Gerard cried, the pitch and timbre of his high-tenor voice rising with his growing impatience. "I've seen that movie at least a hundred and thirty times now, and I'm telling you! Jessi shot first!"

The moment he made this statement, the other members of the group uttered furious cries of disagreement, such as "You're wrong!"; "You don't know what you're talking about!"; "You're nuts!", "You're crazy!" and, of course, the old classic since Time Immemorial: "You're stupid!"

"Look," Gordo was the first to voice the opposing viewpoint. "I seen that movie at least as many times as you, and I'm telling you: Jessi did not shoot first! Xenu fired his blaster first, and Jessi fired back in self-defense!"

"You're crazy!" Gerard shot back without hesitation. "That way doesn't even make sense!"

"Why not?"

"Well, figure it out. Xenu had his laser-blaster pointed right directly at the middle of Jessi's chest, right? He was aiming point blank at her, from less than three feet away! So if he fired first, there would've been a hole blasted in her chest big enough to stick your head through! She'd have been killed instantly, and wouldn't have had time to even draw her weapon, let alone fire it!"

"But Xenu still shot first!" Gordo insisted. "His shot went wild and missed over Jessi's shoulder and impacted on the wall behind her, and she returned fire! That's what happened!"

"That's stupid!" Gerard argued. "That way makes even less sense! Xenu was a professional bounty hunter, right? If his aim was so bad that he could miss an easy shot like that while aiming point-blank at his quarry, then he wouldn't have lasted five seconds in that profession!"

There sounded various grumblings of muted, grudging agreement from the other boys, indicating that although few wanted to openly admit it, Gerard had made a fair and valid point. Still, Gordo refused to accept it.

"You're still wrong," he grumbled in a low tone. "Face it. You're wrong!"

"I'm not wrong, you dumbbell, I'm right!"

"All right, all right, look, look," Quinton interceded, striving to act as peacemaker, as he often did. "Sheldon, you're the real Trek Wars expert here, right? You've seen that movie way more times than even Gerard and Gordo put together. So who's right here? Gerard or Gordo?"

Sheldon smiled with the quiet, reserved self-assurance of one who has a thorough and comprehensive knowledge on a given subject, and replied, "Well, technically…" He paused dramatically. "Technically, I guess you could say they're both right."

"What?!" bellowed Gordo and Gerard in unison. "Now you're nuts!" Gordo cried.

"Wait, wait, let me explain," Sheldon said, raising a hand to defuse the objection. "See, when the movie was first released in theaters, the scene happened just like Gerard described—"

"Hah!" Gerard guffawed gloatingly. "See? I told you!"

"But," Sheldon continued, ignoring Gerard's outburst. "When the movie was re-released a few years later, they re-edited that scene, changing it all around with an added special-effect thrown in, to make it look like Xenu shot first, and that Jessi shot back in self-defense, the way Gordo described it."

He caught the sudden sour look from Gerard, and quickly added, "I agree, it's totally stupid that way and doesn't make sense and I still don't know why they changed it that way…but that's what happened. And it explains the confusion a lot of people have about that scene." He then turned to face Gordo and the others. "But technically, the version Gerard described is the one that came first. And it's also the only one that makes any sense."

Gerard smiled at the Unofficial Official Verdict, satisfied that his position had been resoundingly vindicated, while the other boys remained grudgingly silent, their expressions either blank and neutral or grimly sour (particularly Gordo.)

"Although technically," Sheldon added after a moment's reflection. "If we really wanted to split hairs, we could say that 'Jessi didn't shoot first.' Technically, she was the only one who shot at all."

The other boys all stared blankly at him, utterly perplexed by his statement. Then, one by one, they each understood his point and concurred with a simple, muted, "Oh…yeah…" or "I get it…"

"Well…anyway..." Flynn spoke up, eager to change the subject to a less-contentious topic. "Now that that's settled, let's get back to the bigger and more-important issue of the day. We still haven't settled who's up for a gaming-session today and who isn't. I know you guys can make it, right?" He turned to face Gordo and Phred, who each nodded.

"And you guys?" he turned to Quinton and Gerard, who also nodded likewise. "And I'm going, so—"

"I think I can make it, too," Sheldon chimed in. They all turned to face him, somewhat surprised.

"I thought you were grounded," Quinton said.

"Oh, well I was, but not anymore," Sheldon replied. "See, I talked it over with my mom this morning and she let me off the grounding early, so…turns out I can make it today after all."

"Oh, okay, good, glad to hear it," said Flynn. "So that pretty much settles it, then; we can all make it. All except Jenny that is, 'cuz she's got her whole practice stuff going on and everything. And…I assume we're meeting at Legendary Warriors, right? Usual time after school, right?"

All the boys nodded, including Sheldon. "I might be a little late, though," he said. "I want to stop by my house real quick, to drop off my backpack, maybe grab some snacks and do a couple of other things, and then I'll meet you guys there."

"Okay, good. Now—"

As they were speaking however, Phred appeared to be distracted, looking away in another direction, down the hallway.

"Something interesting down there?" Gerard asked.

"Hold on a sec," Phred said, with one finger raised. "Did you guys hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Sounds like a real catfight going on down there! You know, a couple of girls going at it."

"Oh, is that all," grumbled Gerard. "So what? Who cares?

"Well, it's just…" Phred replied with a nervous laugh. "Whoever's arguing and whatever they're arguing about, it sounds really good! Like they're gonna start pulling hair any minute or something!"

"Hey, maybe we should go down there and watch!" Gordo suggested with a grin. "Break out the popcorn and everything!"

"Ehh, it's probably nothing," Sheldon said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Whoever it is, they're probably just arguing over something stupid, like who's going to the prom with who or whatever. Something dumb like that, probably."

"Yeah, probably," Gerard grumbled in agreement.

"Well, it's just… Well, I couldn't be sure, but I thought one of the voices sounded like Jenny."

"Oh, well in that case," Flynn said. "It's probably the stupid Crust Cousins and that whole obnoxious gang of theirs, giving her grief again, just like they always do."

"Yeah, probably," Quinton agreed. "That whole bunch, man… They're such total creeps. I mean, they just never let up on her!"

"Well, the other voice didn't sound like one of that bunch, though," Phred said. "It didn't sound like either the Crusts or one of their mob. It sounded like somebody totally different." He paused, listening. "It seems to be quieting down now in any case."

"Yeah well, whatever!" Gerard grumbled. "Whoever's arguing and whatever they're arguing about, does it matter? It doesn't affect us."

Biting his tongue, Sheldon remained silent. He's right… he thought. It doesn't affect us…whoever it is. Whether that's Jenny arguing down there or not... But if that is Jenny…? He winced. No…no, it's still none of my business…!

"Hey, what's with you?" Quinton asked, noticing Sheldon's sudden silence. "What're you frowning at? You look like you're ticked-off, like you just got a B minus on a science quiz or something."

"Hm? No, no…I'm just…" He shook his head and tried to adopt a passive, disinterested expression…and failed miserably at it. "I'm just…thinking about something…I had on my mind…from…from one of my classes…"

"Oh," Quinton replied neutrally, and said nothing more.


"Now I have tried to be patient with you, Ms. Wakeman!" Vice-Principal Razinski glowered at Jenny, leaning forward with one elbow resting on his desktop. "More than patient! Now I know the principal says that you have certain 'special emotional needs,' and that we all have to 'make allowances for you,' and 'be understanding' of you and so forth. And I've certainly done that! I've gone way out of my way to be patient and understanding of your so-called 'special needs.'" The vice-principal had a habit of emphasizing certain words and phrases with a kind of sneering, condescending, clenched-teeth diction that clearly indicated the low opinion he held of them, despite his acquiescence to higher authority in carrying out their directives.

"But this business of starting arguments and altercations with other students in the hallways and in the cafeteria, of lingering at classroom doorways, and interfering with class-sessions—"

"Now wait a minute!" Jenny protested. "I never—"

"Harassing and stalking students and—"

"What?!" Jenny cried, in absolute disbelief. "What are you talking about?! Has everyone gone nuts around here? I never harassed or stalked anyone!"

"This isn't a discussion, young lady!" Mr. Razinski said, raising a hand in effort to halt any further outbursts. "Nor is it a debate. Nor am I asking for your side of these matters. I'm simply telling you. So you can either listen to me or you can argue. And if you argue, then I'll have no other choice but to call…your mother! Is that what you want?"

Instantly, Jenny's mouth clamped tightly shut, though she continued to glower at the vice-principal in silence.

"That's better," Mr. Razinski said. "Now…as I was saying…I've had several reports coming in from several members of the faculty, just from this morning alone, of you loitering around classrooms where you didn't belong, disrupting the classes inside, starting arguments with other students, following them around, harassing them, stalking them and even threatening them—"

He is nuts! Jenny thought, forcing her mouth to remain tightly closed through sheer, determined will-power. I never started arguments with anyone! I just had a couple of discussions with some people, that's all! Sure, maybe they got a little loud, but so what? And I never threatened anyone, either! And I sure as heck never harassed or stalked anyone! So what the heck is he talking about?

"And I'm telling you right now, in no uncertain terms," the vice-principal went on. "This all has to stop! And I mean right now! As of this very second! Do you understand me? Do I make myself clear, young lady?"

He paused for dramatic effect, and after a seeming eternity had passed, he spoke again. "You may speak," he said, once he felt sure that his message had gotten across.

Jenny had been through this routine so many times before that she practically knew it all by heart by now. She knew from experience that no argument, no excuse and no explanation was possible or permissible, that there was nothing to say that would extricate herself from this situation. Instead, there was only one way out, one choice of words she could utter that would offer any possible escape, and though she hated to have to speak the words, she knew she had no other choice.

"Yes sir," she said in a small, quiet voice, which only just barely concealed the deep resentment, outrage and righteous indignation she felt over the grossly unfair treatment she felt she'd received. "I—I understand."

"Good," Mr. Razinski replied. Another moment of silence passed before he nodded and said, "Very well. You may go now. But remember," he said, his eyes narrowing threateningly. "I'll be watching you! And one more break out of you—just one!—and I will call…your mother!"

"Yes, sir," Jenny repeated grimly as she rose from her seat, turned and left the office, trembling with lingering, repressed resentment.

Getting chewed out by the vice-principal was bad enough, but having to endure the reprimand without even being given a chance to defend herself or give explanations or tell her side of the story was downright infuriating, all the more so since she knew there wasn't much she could say. At least, not much that would make any difference.

As she walked down the now-deserted hallways, all the pent-up anger, frustration and resentment that had been building inside her all afternoon began to dissipate, gradually morphing into an uneasy blend of distraught anxiety and abject self-pity. She felt completely and entirely alone and isolated, as though the entire world had suddenly turned against her, a feeling only enhanced by the solitude offered by the empty hallways. It was a feeling she'd experienced only a few times before in her life, the most noteworthy of which was the aftermath following her abduction and re-programming by Todd Sweeny, a time when everyone in Tremorton—indeed, the entire world—had turned against her, believing that she had turned rogue. Now, however, she almost felt worse. At least on that earlier occasion, there was still one person remaining in the whole world who still believed in her and had faith in her, no matter what; one person upon whom she could rely totally. That person, of course, was Sheldon. But now, she sadly reflected, she no longer even had him.

With every step she took, her emotional sub-programming fluctuated more wildly, alternating between the desire to drive her fist through a cinderblock wall one moment and to curl up in a corner and cry like a baby the next. But with each passing moment, the desire to cry became more overwhelming.

She glanced up at the clock on the wall, more out of habit than genuine interest, and was startled by the lateness of the hour. Cripes! She thought. The period's nearly half-over already! She increased her pace and veered off down a side-corridor and stepped through the nearest exit.

Once outside, she turned and headed for the girls' locker-room. The period was supposed to be for her P.E. class, for which she had little enthusiasm. Had she been allowed to do her best and really perform to her utmost ability, the way she really wanted to, it wouldn't have been so bad. But instead, she was required to hold back and rein in her abilities, "Just to make it fair to the other girls," as she was constantly told by the hard-as-nails gym-teacher, Helga "Bull" Muspratt. So what could Jenny do? She had no choice but to pull back and scale down her massive power and lightning-quick reflexes, and before long, her gym and P.E. classes became nothing more than a tedious, tiresome chore, as well as a colossal bore.

Not only were the classes tedious and boring, but they quickly became little more than an exercise in nonstop, one-sided verbal abuse from the toxic gym-teacher as well. Muspratt was universally feared and despised by all the girls throughout the school anyway, as they'd all been subjected to her caustic harangues at one time or another during their daily workouts. The more literate-minded among the students often referred to the ordeal as "Fear and Loathing at Tremorton High," a phrase which described the experience with unerring accuracy. By the time Jenny started at Tremorton, it had been a longstanding rumor among the student-body that Muspratt had at one time been a Space Marines Drill-Instructor, but that she'd been kicked out of the service for being too harsh and tough on the recruits. Virtually all the girls (including Jenny herself) wholeheartedly believed the rumor without question.

Moreover, Muspratt, like Vice-Principal Razinski, also seemed to have some sort of personal, vindictive grudge against Jenny, which became obvious right from the beginning. Although Jenny wasn't the only student to be subjected to The Bull's tirades—all the girls had to endure it at one time or another—she did often seem to get the worst of it. And for some obscure reason that Jenny couldn't fathom, the gym-teacher seemed to take a particularly fiendish delight in forcing Jenny to run endless laps around the track for an entire class-period. And not at ordinary speed either, but at double-time, quadruple-time and even all-out sprinting.

"Don't think I'm gonna make it easy on you, White Fang!" Muspratt would bellow at Jenny through the bullhorn. "Just 'cuz you're a superhero doesn't mean I'm gonna cut you any slack! You're going to pull your weight around here the same as everybody else! You got that? And if that means if you're a million and seventy times stronger than everybody else, then I'm gonna work you a million and seventy times harder than everybody else! So move your tail, White Fang! Faster! Faster! I wanna see some hustle out there! Don't be dogging it out there! Move it! Move it! Move it! I want to see you move that six-hundred-pound hulk of yours out there like it's greased lightning! I want to see you move so fast you break windows! Now, move! Move! Move!"

And Jenny had no choice but to comply, running full-tilt around the track for a full fifty minutes while the other girls were engaged in other, normal gym-activities. She didn't know which was worse: The humiliation of being repeatedly singled-out that way, or the boredom and tedium that went along with endlessly, pointlessly running laps.

And she wasn't even allowed to use her jets, either! Or her supercharged speed. Or any of her other capabilities that would have made it easier or more efficient—or at least less-tedious. No, she had to use the plodding, tedious, slow-pokey heel-and-toe pace that she absolutely hated. "Just to make it fair," as Muspratt would tell her.

Fair! Jenny often thought in disgust as she endlessly, senselessly circled the track, feeling like a hamster on a wheel. What would Monster Muspratt know about 'fair'?

And so, as Jenny's footsteps took her closer and closer to the locker-room and the prospect of another tortuous session with the bellicose Bull, she gradually came to realize…more and more with each step…that she just couldn't face it. Not another class session of Bull Muspratt's nonstop, vitriolic verbal abuse. Not today. Not after what she'd already been through, with her self-confidence now virtually in tatters, seemingly held together by no more than mere threads. And as she approached the locker-room door, her mind conjured up a mental-picture of the gym-teacher's beet-red face, neck bulging in preparation to give Jenny a good chewing-out for being a half-hour late, the loathsome Crust Cousins and their equally-loathsome 'posse,' all sneering and smirking at her from nearby, and possibly even the horrible Bernice creature also looking on and smirking at her as well…and she cringed.

Suddenly, all of the day's events came crashing in on her all at once. Everything, from the moment her friendly overtures to Sheldon had suddenly and inexplicably backfired and turned sour, to his subsequent rejection of her lunchtime invitation and her subsequent humiliation before the lunchtime crowd, followed by her confrontation in the hallway with the horrible Bernice creature, and finally culminating with the royal chewing-out she'd received from Vice-Principal Razinski.

It all caved in on her at once, and an enormous tsunami of overwrought emotions overwhelmed her in a massive torrent, obliterating what remained of her battered self-confidence, and in that moment, she felt utterly and completely defeated, with nothing left with which to face the world, nothing left with which to fight.

Ohhhhhhh, I just can't do it…! She thought, halting in her tracks. I just can't face that monster today…! Not today…! Not in the shape I'm in right now…!

After only another half-second of hesitation, Jenny turned on her heel and headed for the bleachers double-time, quickly ducking underneath them and crawling to the smallest, narrowest, most tightly-confined and inaccessible area she could find therein. The cramped, close confines of the spot, surrounded by various steel pipes, beams and struts, seemed to provide her with a comforting sense of safety and security, not unlike the feeling she got when she occasionally resorted to curling up in her 'turtle-shell' configuration. She positioned herself with her back resting against the inner surface of the concrete wall of the bleachers, then pulled her knees up to her chest and clasped them tightly with her arms. With only another moment's hesitation, she lowered her head, resting her forehead on her kneecaps…

…and allowed herself a good, long cry…


Brad strolled down the hallway at an easy, leisurely pace, turned and stepped through the side-exit doors. Once outside, he increased his pace, trotting over to the boys' locker-room. The hour for the first class of the afternoon had dragged by slowly for him as it always did, but once the bell rang, he felt renewed energy for the next class, Physical Education. Like many other students, Brad not only felt re-energized for P.E., but also grateful for the diversion it provided in the midst of an otherwise-dull afternoon.

Also, it was by now so close to the end of the school year that most of the scheduled P.E. activities for the term had been completed, and the coach, a generally easygoing and agreeable fellow, mostly allowed the boys in Brad's class to shoot hoops for an hour or so, or play informal pick-up games with one another, in teams of their own choosing. Which suited Brad perfectly fine, as it did most of the boys.

As he approached the locker room, he caught sight of Sheldon a few paces ahead of him. Immediately, it caught Brad's attention. Sheldon normally lagged behind the others, since it was common knowledge that P.E. had never been one of his favorite classes, nor was it one in which he performed particularly well. With the exceptions of swimming and diving, the only two sports at which he truly excelled, Sheldon was a hopelessly clumsy, uncoordinated klutz when it came to everything else, constantly tripping over his large feet and frequently dropping the ball whenever it was thrown to him. He was always the last to be picked when it came to choosing up sides for any game, and as a result, P.E. and gym classes tended to be more ego-crushing experiences for him than anything else.

And yet today, Brad noticed…that Sheldon seemed more lively in his stride than usual, and there seemed to be a light, energetic bounce to his step, almost as though he were actually looking forward to P.E. for the first time in his life.

Okay! Brad thought. Now I know I'm going crazy! P.E. Class and Sheldon almost looks happy about it?! There is definitely something wrong with this picture!

Well…no matter! He thought. And I don't care what Jenny said! I'm going to go have a talk with him anyhow… See if I can clear up this whole mess between the two of them once and for all… I know she wanted me to stay out of it, but…well, I interfere in her personal business all the time anyway, so …once more probably won't make any difference... She ought to be used to it by now! And with that he picked up his pace to catch up with Sheldon.

"Yeah, I really wish they'd just go ahead and open up the pool early," Sheldon said to Gerard, who waddled along beside him. "I mean, it's warm enough already for swimming, so…why not, right?"

"Yeah, I wish they'd do that, too," Gerard agreed. "Matter of fact, I wish they had swimming year-round, for that matter. Swimming's the perfect exercise for me anyhow. If the pool was available year-round, I could just swim laps by the hour and burn calories like crazy and without getting all overheated and sweaty and everything. And with no strain on my back or knees or hips, either." He patted his sizable belly with a grin. "I could really use the exercise, too! I'm too pleasantly-plump as it is!"

Sheldon returned his friend's smile and nodded. "Yeah, year-round swimming would be great, but…well, it'd be awfully cold during the Winter months, wouldn't it?"

"Well yeah, but like what if we had an indoor pool?" Gerard said. "Or, since we don't, then maybe we could get one of those big, temporary, shell-like enclosures they sometimes put up over pools during the Winter. You know the kind I mean? They can be heated inside, so you can swim all year long, no matter how cold it gets outside."

"Oh yeah, I've seen those," Sheldon nodded. "Those are pretty cool. And they're pretty cheap, too—they're only made out of plastic or something, with an aluminum frame underneath, I think."

Gerard grinned at him. "Hey, maybe you could invent a new type of pool-enclosure like that! One that opens and closes automatically at certain temperatures! Or maybe even at certain times of the year or something!"

Sheldon grinned back at his friend. "Don't tempt me!" he said, and they shared a laugh, as they both knew it was exactly the kind of far-fetched contraption that Sheldon would try to invent if he could.

Brad approached them then and spoke up. "Hey, Sheldon?" he said. "Old buddy, can I talk to you for a second?"

Sheldon slowed in his pace, as he turned to face him. "Um…yeah, sure," he said, then turned back to Gerard. "Go on ahead," he said. "I'll see you on the court with the others in a few minutes." He then turned back to face Brad, coming to a full stop. "Yeah?" he said.

"Well, you seem in a good mood," Brad said with smile. "Like for the first time that I can remember in weeks. And it's the first time I've ever seen you actually happy on the way to a P.E. class."

Sheldon shrugged. "Oh…yeah, well, school year's nearly over, so…it's only for a few more weeks, so...I can put up with it a little longer. And besides, like me and Gerard were saying, since it's getting warmer these days, we were hoping maybe they'll open up the pool a little bit early, so that we can swim laps!" He smiled in hopeful anticipation at the prospect.

"Yeah…" Brad replied. "Um…say, Sheldon…listen, there's…something I wanna talk to you about, something I think you should know."

"Yeah?" he said, his smile faltering slightly.

"Well," Brad hesitated. "It's…about Jenny."

Instantly, the pleasant, relaxed smile that had been on Sheldon's face vanished, replaced by a look of wary unease and suspicion. "I…I don't want to talk about it." He said as he looked away.

Brad blinked in surprise. "But I haven't even said anything yet!" he said.

"You're gonna talk about…what happened at lunch today, right?"

"Well…no," said Brad. "Not exactly. I mean, yeah, partly, kind of, but mostly it's about Jenny and how she—"

Sheldon sighed and rolled his eyes. He just knew what Brad was going to say. He was probably going to make some stupid joke or wisecrack, about how Sheldon had nearly gotten pulled in two like a wishbone by Jenny and Bernice. And he'd probably also make a stupid, unnecessary wisecrack that he 'had it coming' or something, just to rub it in, as he'd done before on occasion. And Sheldon just wasn't in the mood to listen to it. Not today. He was frankly getting sick and tired of always being the butt of everyone's jokes whenever he got near Jenny anyway, and he just didn't want to have to listen to the same stupid old routine all over again.

"Well, I…I really don't want to talk about…her…" he said. "Or what happened at lunch today. So let's just…leave it at that. Okay?" He turned and resumed walking again.

"Well, I just think you should know that—"

"Look, I said I don't want to talk about it!" Sheldon snapped. "All right? Geez!"

"But—"

"Look, just drop it, okay?" Sheldon cut him off. "Geez! It was embarrassing enough as it is! And—and as for what happened afterward, with all those jerks standing around, hassling her and giving her grief and everything, I'm sorry it happened, but it wasn't my fault! I had nothing to do with it! I wasn't involved! So don't blame me for it!"

"I'm not!" Brad exclaimed. "Geez, I'm not even talking about that! I'm just trying to let you know that Jenny—"

"That you and Jenny are best friends, right?" Sheldon cut in. "Yeah, I know, I know… I know all about that! I've been hanging around you guys for two years now! Don't you think I noticed and figured it out by now? It's not exactly news to me! I'm not stupid, you know! I can see what's going on!"

Brad stared at Sheldon in utterly perplexity, trying to catch up with and unravel his friend's baffling thought-processes. What the heck's he even talking about? He wondered. "Wait, wait, wait!" he said, "Just hold on a sec and back up! Now I'm not even—"

"And so naturally you want to stand up for her and automatically take her side in everything, right?" Sheldon went on, completely disregarding Brad's words. "Well, okay, fine, but like I already told you: I had nothing to do with what happened at lunch! So if her feelings are hurt or whatever, it's not my fault! Okay? All right? Geez!"

Brad sighed in exasperation. In spite of himself, he was beginning to lose patience with his nerdy little friend. Geez, do either of these two ever just listen? He wondered. No wonder they're always so ticked-off at each other so much of the time! They never listen!

"But—but I didn't say it was!" he said. "I'm not even saying anything like that! All I'm trying to say is—"

"Well, whatever!" Sheldon snapped. "I don't care!"

Brad took a deep breath, preparing to make one final attempt at communication. "Look," he said, trying to remain patient. "Let's just back up a minute, okay? Please? Now all I'm trying to do is let you know that—"

"Ohhhhhh, I don't want to hear it!" Sheldon snapped in finality. "I'm not interested! And I'm sick and tired of everybody always making fun of me and laughing at me all the time, just because of how I feel—I mean, how I used to feel about Jenny! I'm tired of it and I'm not gonna put up with it anymore!"

With that, he turned and stomped away in a huff toward the locker-room, his sneakers slapping the pavement with every step.

Brad remained standing in place, as though frozen to the spot, both smarting and absolutely stunned, trying to understand just what on earth had happened and what had triggered it. "But…but…" he muttered helplessly, primarily to himself as he now found himself alone. "That's…that's not even what I'm saying…!"

At last, he released a long, defeated sigh. Okay, fine! He thought in final, disgusted surrender. I give up! I tried! I tried my darnedest! With both of them! But I'm through sticking my neck out! From here on out, you guys are on your own! I'm definitely staying out of this from now on!

He then headed toward the locker-room as well, stepped inside and took a locker as far away from Sheldon as he could. He then sat down on the bench and, taking long, slow breaths, he tried to settle down and collect his thoughts as he changed into his gym-clothes.

There was no question about it, this ongoing rift between his two friends was really getting him down. Not only because he hated to see Jenny experience personal problems of any kind, but also because he especially hated conflicts like this between his friends. It was also difficult for him because of his own evolving feelings about Jenny herself.

He still thought of her as his best friend in the whole world of course, just as he always had and as he frequently told her. But he never really thought of her as anything more than that. He'd never had any sort of 'romantic' feelings for her, nor had she ever sparked in him the unique, special kind of excitement that Melody had, for example. No, with Jenny, it was strictly friendship all the way, nothing more. But with Melody…it was something different, very different and thoroughly unique. He couldn't even describe the feelings he'd experienced for her, nor could he fully understand them.

So he knew it wasn't jealousy that he felt about Jenny's current obsession with Sheldon. After all, that sort of thing had never bothered him in the past. It never, for example, bothered him whenever he saw Sheldon repeatedly throw himself at Jenny, hoping and trying in vain to get her attention, forever hoping that she would return the feelings he had for her. Instead, Brad tended to laugh it off, believing that Sheldon was simply being foolish and naïve and silly, and assumed that his nerdy pal would eventually get over Jenny and move on some day.

But now Brad was concerned about Jenny, and he even felt a bit…protective of her as well. Especially since the entire situation between her and Sheldon had changed so drastically and turned completely topsy-turvy, with her being fixated on him, rather than the other way around. Moreover, it all happened so quickly—practically overnight, in fact. Brad didn't know what to make of it. Her inexplicable fixation on Sheldon left Brad completely baffled, and strangely conflicted about it, too.

But primarily, he was concerned. He couldn't escape the feeling that Jenny was making a grievous mistake, that she was setting herself up for a terrible fall, and that she was liable to end up making a complete fool of herself as well. Especially since it now appeared that Sheldon no longer had any interest in her, and had apparently moved on. In the past, Brad would have expected Jenny to be relieved by such a development, but clearly, she wasn't. And instead…and despite her denials to the contrary…it was also quite clear that she was jealous. And as Brad knew full well from past experience, the results of Jenny's jealousy could get downright ugly…

He emerged from the locker-room a short while later, fully dressed in his gym-clothes and sneakers, turned and lightly trotted down the pathway to the basketball court. Along the way, he passed a stream of girls, also dressed in gym-clothes, now returning from the athletic field and heading for the girls' locker-room.

"I see the walking junkpile didn't show up for P.E. today," Britney Crust snidely remarked to her smaller cousin beside her and the other members of their posse, who now trailed behind in her wake, as she dabbed at her face and neck with a towel.

"Maybe she got sent home," Tiffany Crust replied, likewise wiping herself down with a towel and adjusting her pigtails. "Just before P.E. I saw her get called into Old Man Razinski's office, probably to get yelled at."

"I suppose it was only a matter of time, what with the way she's been flaking out lately," Britney said. "I honestly don't know why he put up with her this long. Of course, I don't know why they ever allowed her into this school in the first place, if it comes to that. She obviously doesn't belong here. Ever since the day she first arrived, she's been nothing but trouble; absolute no good to anyone."

"Never was any good, as far as that goes." Tiffany added gratuitously.

Brit gave a haughty toss of her head and went on. "I must say, the standards at this school must have really gone down in recent years to allow her kind in," she said in particularly acidic tones.

Brad bristled at the overheard remarks, and for a moment he felt strongly tempted to speak up in Jenny's defense, but at the last moment, he changed his mind. The Crust Cousins, he knew from experience, weren't even worth the effort…

The rest of the ugly conversation between the Cousins and their hangers-on passed mercifully out of earshot, for which Brad was grateful. Though generally the type of person who tried to get along with everyone, Brad had nevertheless come to develop an intense dislike for the two vicious girls, whose every caustic word and toxic action seemed deliberately calculated to inflict maximum harm on some unfortunate victim. He had now reached the point where he truly could not stand the sight or sound of either of them, and they frankly made his flesh crawl and his stomach turn whenever they came near. He could well imagine the level of misery they must cause for Jenny whenever their paths had the misfortune of crossing.

Ah well, he thought as he increased his pace to a light jog. At least I don't have to share a P.E. class with those two! And the school-year's nearly over too, so at least Jenny won't have to put up with them for too much longer…

Suddenly a fresh, disquieting thought struck him and he immediately slowed his pace to a slow walk, trying to recall the Crusts' snide remarks. What was that they said? He wondered. Something about not seeing Jenny in P.E.? And that maybe she got sent home?

He found the thought deeply disturbing. Ohhhh, I sure hope that didn't happen! He thought. Maybe that little 'talk' she had with that girl got out of hand and somehow landed her in hot water! I'll bet it did! Knowing her, I'll bet that's exactly what happened!

He continued walking, still absorbed in his thoughts when he noticed a faint, curiously-muted, yet oddly-familiar sound. He immediately came to a full stop.

What was that? he wondered, listening intently. He heard the sound again, and he turned his head this way and that, trying to trace its source, and followed it. It was strange, but…whatever it was, it almost sounded like a girl softly crying, and seemed to be coming from the bleachers near the athletic field—or rather, he realized once he came closer to them, from somewhere underneath. He approached them quietly, then crouched down low and peered into the gloom underneath. There, hidden in the shadows, nearly obscured by the tangled, labyrinthine maze of steel supports and struts, he could just barely make out a familiar blue and white form, crouched in a distant corner.

"Hello?" he called out to the huddled figure. "Jenny? Is that…is that you in there?"

The figure stirred, her head snapping up immediately. In the darkness, it was hard to tell for sure, but…she seemed to be staring intently at Brad for a long moment. Then she roused herself from her crouched position and gingerly began picking and plucking and threading her way through the intricate maze of beams and struts, flexing and bending her limbs and joints at inhuman, seemingly impossible angles, twisting her entire body this way and that, contracting and re-configuring her physical form by increments with every movement, as she gingerly negotiated the narrow, winding path back out. It was an uncanny sight, which Brad found fascinating to watch.

At last Jenny emerged into the sunlight and stood before him. "Yeah?" she said, trying to sound casual, but failing completely to conceal her strained tone underneath. "What's up?"

"What's up?" Brad echoed. "That's what I'm wondering!" He quickly looked her up and down, noting her grubby, grimy appearance. He then bent down, peered under the bleachers again and asked "What the heck were you doing in there, anyway?"

"Nothing, nothing!" she snapped, wiping her eyes.

"Nothing?!" He half-cried. "Now come on. What's the matter? What's going on?"

"Nothing! Nothing's going on! I'm just…I'm on my way to the locker room, that's all. Cripes!"

"Well…if you're headed for the lockers, then…" He quickly glanced at the underside of the bleachers again, then back at her. "What, did you get lost on the way or something?"

She released an exasperated sigh and replied, "I'm really not in the mood for your jokes right now."

"All right, all right," he said. "But seriously, what's going on with you? Huh? What happened? And don't tell me 'nothing,' because I won't believe you! Now what is it? Did you…? Were you…" He hesitated, then lowered his voice. "Has somebody been picking on you? Have you…" He lowered his volume still further, and asked softly, "Have you been…crying?"

"What?! No!" she snapped, frowning at him. "Don't be stupid! Nobody's been picking on me!" She turned away, and wiped her eyes. "I just…have something in my eye, that's all."

"Were those stupid Crust jerks and their obnoxious friends giving you grief again?" he asked. "I told you before to just ignore them. Don't pay any attention to them—or their stupid remarks."

"Don't patronize me!" Jenny cried. "I…I can handle them! I can handle anyone! Or anything!"

Brad looked at his robotic friend in silence for a moment, then replied gently, "Jenny… I'm not patronizing you. I'm your friend, remember? I just want to help, that's all. So if something's bothering you, you can always tell me about it. You know that."

She looked at him and at last, the hard, defensive frown on her face softened and dissolved. She sighed and sat down on the ground, her back resting against the supporting backwall of the bleachers. She lowered her head and released a dispirited sigh, and Brad knelt down beside her, patting her on the back reassuringly. He knew she couldn't feel the physical sensation, but he offered it as a comforting gesture just the same.

"So what is it?" he asked gently. "What's going on?"

Jenny looked at him, then lowered her head again. "Oh, it's…it's just…" She paused, then went on. "Oh, it's everything! I don't know where to begin! I'm just…having a really bad day!"

"Does it…have to do with…" he hesitated. "You know…what we talked about earlier? You know…during lunch?"

Without a word, she nodded.

"So I take it you…" He swallowed and with great reluctance, continued. "Had a talk with that girl…like you said you would."

Again, she nodded silently.

"And…" he hesitated. "Well, I take it things didn't turn out so hot, huh?"

She shook her head. "No, they didn't," she said, and then went on to recount in very-abbreviated form the afternoon's events, starting with the general gist and flow of the argument she'd had with Bernice, followed by the good chewing-out she'd received from Vice-Principal Razinski, and finally concluding with the good, long, solitary sulk she'd permitted herself beneath the bleachers.

Brad listened patiently, waited until she'd concluded her story, and then replied gently, "Geez… sure sounds like you really did have a lousy afternoon all around, huh?"

"Yeah…no kidding…" she muttered grimly.

"Wow, I don't blame you for being upset. Going through that whole scene with that girl, and then getting yelled at by Razinski for it. Geez…that had to be pretty rough, dealing with one hassle right after the other like that."

"Yeah…"

"And in front of everyone like that!" he added. "Yeesh! That must've been brutal!"

She winced, but otherwise didn't respond, and Brad immediately regretted having reminded her of that particular detail.

After a brief pause, he added, "Of course, I kind of had a feeling something like that was liable to happen, so—"

"Yeah, I know, I know!" Jenny interrupted peevishly. "You told me so, right? You don't have to rub it in, you know!"

"I'm not, I'm not!" he said. Then, after a moment, he quietly added, "But I did tell you so!"

She sighed, rolled her eyes, and looked away.

"But hey…" he said in a more conciliatory tone, as he continued to rub her shoulder consolingly. "Don't let it get to you. Stuff like that happens from time to time. To everyone. You know? Everybody has days like that. Everybody quarrels, everybody gets called on the carpet at one time or another, either by Razinski or by somebody. But…like I said earlier at lunch, after you had that other encounter with that girl: just…try to forget about it. You know? Put it behind you and don't dwell on it. Just try to put the whole thing out of your mind and…pretend it never happened."

Very softly, without looking at him, she said, "It's…not that simple…"

"Why not?" he asked.

She didn't answer.

"Well?" he prompted.

"Well, it's…" she hesitated. "Some of the things that girl said…really bother me..."

Brad snorted and waved a hand dismissively. "Ohhhh, don't listen to her, either!" he said. "Just treat her the same way you do the stupid Crust Cousins. Don't pay any attention and just ignore her."

"Yeah, but…"

"But what?"

"Well, it's just..." she sighed. "Well…what bothers me is…" She hesitated. "What if…maybe she's right?"

Brad blinked and shook his head. "I—I don't understand," he said. "Right about what?"

"Well, right about…how I really feel about Sheldon. See, she said—" she began hesitantly, then pressed ahead with difficulty. "She…she said that…that maybe I'm only trying to be nice to him now because I feel guilty over the way I treated him in the past!"

Brad blinked. Truthfully, it was a possibility that hadn't even occurred to him. "Oh…" he said simply.

"And the thing is…I do still feel…well…pretty lousy about…some of the things I did, the way I used to treat him…" she said. "So now I'm just wondering: Is it possible? Is this all just because I feel guilty? Am I just trying to make up for the past?"

Brad looked blankly at her and shrugged. "I…I don't know," he said truthfully.

She sighed and continued. "'Cuz that girl asked me what I ever did for Sheldon to…you know…be a friend to him—I mean a real friend—and…I…I really couldn't answer her." She shook her head. "As much as I dislike that girl, and as much as I hate to admit it…the truth is, she's maybe got a point. Most of the time, I…I really wasn't very nice to Sheldon. Mostly I just…put up with him; tolerated him, you know? But that's all. And even then, just barely…" She paused with a tiny, repressed sob and continued. "But now, all I keep thinking about is how much I wish I'd been nicer to him when I had the chance. I certainly had plenty of opportunities…but I just wasted them. All those times I could've been nicer to him…and there were a lot of them. You know, just pleasant to him once in a while. It wouldn't have cost me anything…it would've meant so much to him…and yet…I didn't even bother..." She shook her head sadly.

Not knowing what else to say, Brad could only murmur a neutral "Mmm…" in what he hoped was a sympathetic tone.

"Something else that girl said that bothers me," Jenny went on. "She said I only want Sheldon now because somebody else wants him! And that it's only because I can't have him that it's making me want him even more!"

Brad thought about it. "Hm…" he murmured, nodding. "That's…an interesting thought… I suppose it is possible…"

"I do feel like that…that girl is taking him away from me, too!" Jenny went on, her voice acquiring a harder, sharper edge. "And I don't like anybody taking away something that's mine! Not at all! So…I don't know… Maybe this is just my program for competitiveness activating or something. Maybe that's what's making me want to hold onto him." She paused, shaking her head. "I—I don't even know for sure anymore!"

"Well…" Brad said gently. "I suppose that's possible, too…" He shrugged. "I really don't know enough about all that technical stuff with your programming and what-not. But…well, I suppose it could be that, too…"

She continued. "I suppose that's what Mom would probably say it is; that it's just my 'target-pursuit' programing misfiring, or something stupid like that. But…I don't think so." She clasped her hands tightly together. "It feels like there's more to it than that. This goes much, much deeper, whatever it is. This is something I feel, deep down inside here!" She pressed her hands hard against her chest. "Whatever the reason is, I just know that I want him so badly now…and not having him just hurts so much inside!" She shut her eyes tightly, wincing, and pressed her hands even harder against her chest. "I don't know how it happened," she said softly. "I certainly never saw it coming, but…somehow, he's gotten under my steel skin and managed to touch me on a personal level I didn't even know I had! And I just can't lose that now, I just can't! It…it's like he's a part of me now, an important part…" she paused with a tiny, pitiful sob, and concluded her thought. "And yet…I feel like I am losing him! No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, he seems to slip further and further away from me, further and further out of my reach…"

She spoke the words softly and quietly but with a deeply heartfelt intensity that almost frightened Brad. He'd never heard such words from Jenny before, about anyone or anything. She had entered into a wholly-unfamiliar territory now, a realm of pure cybernetic emotion that Brad couldn't even begin to fathom; a realm so completely alien and remote from anything he himself had ever experienced in his life that he couldn't even imagine what she must be thinking or feeling right now. All he could do was to look on in helpless sympathy, as he struggled to find adequate words of comfort to offer.

"Yeah, well…I…I hear what you're saying…" he finally said. "And I think I understand…sort of. But…" he hesitated.

She turned to face him. "But what?" she asked.

"Well, just that…" he hesitated. He had to tread very carefully now, he knew. "Well…don't you think maybe you're kind of just…exaggerating this whole thing a little bit? Maybe it's not as bad as you think it is—or are making it out to be. I mean, yeah, sure, maybe things between you and Sheldon aren't quite turning out the way you wanted them to, and sure, I know it bothers you that he's got a new friend in his life now. But…does that really mean you're, quote unquote, 'losing' him? I mean, it's not as if you're never going to see him again, right? He's not going anywhere. He'll still be around. So what if he makes a new friend once in a while? Even if it is someone you don't like. He can do that and still be friends with you, can't he? And can't we all just…you know, still be friends and all hang out together? Just like we always have?"

She didn't answer; instead, she merely sighed.

"Can't we?" Brad asked again.

At last, she shook her head. "Not…not with that…that girl around…!" she muttered in a low voice.

Brad sighed. "Look, I know you don't like her, I get that, but—"

"No, no, it's not just that," Jenny interrupted. "It's what I think she's done."

Brad looked at her, bewildered. "You lost me. Somewhere. What do you think she's done?"

"She poisoned Sheldon's mind against me, that's what she's done!" Jenny exclaimed. "I don't know how she did it exactly, but somehow, she's the one who turned him against me, I just know she did! And now, thanks to her, he—" she stopped abruptly, the words catching in her vocoder. Steeling her courage to the utmost, she forced herself to continue. "Well, that…girl said that—that Sheldon's through with me! And doesn't want to see me anymore! At all!" She shut her eyes tightly, wincing, as though the possibility was too painful to even contemplate. "Maybe that's why he's been so cold and hostile to me these last few days! It's all her doing! She's the one who turned him against me! And now, thanks to her, maybe…maybe Sheldon really is through with me!" She shuddered; just hearing her own voice utter the possibility out loud chilled her. "After all, if she was right about that other stuff, then…maybe she's right about this, too! Maybe that really is how he feels about me! And he's just too afraid to say so to my face!"

Brad was momentarily speechless. It was another possibility that hadn't occurred to him, but which made a lot of sense once he thought about it, and which seemed to fit the facts. "Well, I guess that's a possibility, too," he said. "But…I dunno, I kinda doubt it. It doesn't seem like Sheldon. I mean, even if he really didn't want to see you anymore, I don't think he'd rely on somebody else to tell you for him. I think he'd tell you so himself. He would do that much at least."

"Maybe he already has."

He looked at her, surprised. "He did? When?"

"Well…he didn't exactly say so; at least, not in so many words, but—"

"Well, what exactly did he say?"

"Well, he didn't really say much of anything. But just…it's his attitude and…you know, other ways he might've been trying to tell me. Maybe not in words, but…" She hesitated. "See, I've been trying really hard all morning long to be extra nice to him. Friendly, you know? Trying to talk to him about the kinds of things he's normally so excited about, and I thought I'd get some kind of response out of him by now, but instead, it's just…nothing! Nothing but dead silence out of him! Up to now, I thought it was only a matter of time before I'd gain back his trust and get on his good side again. And for a while, it almost seemed like I was on the verge of doing that. But then…I don't know, all of a sudden something happened and everything went all kerflooey and now, he's back to being angry and suspicious of me all over again. I don't know exactly when that girl got to him or what she said to him, but…oh, now I don't know where I stand with him! And after what she told me about how he feels…" she broke off with a tiny sob. "Oh, I don't know what to think anymore!"

She fell silent, and Brad carefully mulled over her words. Slowly, she turned to him and, catching the expression on his face, she said, "All right, say it!"

"Say what?"

"Come on. You know what. I know that look. You always give me that look whenever you think I've got a screw loose somewhere! Like I'm on the verge of going all to pieces over something! So let's have it!"

"Well, Jen…" he began, then paused, clearing his throat. "Now…now, don't take this the wrong way, okay? But…don't you think you're getting just a little carried away with this whole thing with Sheldon, and blowing it way out of proportion? I mean, you say you're not jealous. Okay, fine, whatever; I'm not going to argue with you about that. But let's face it. Only a few weeks ago, you didn't seem to care about him that much, one way or the other. You barely even seemed to notice when he was around. At least, that's the way it looked to me, and I'm sure it probably looked that way to Sheldon, too."

Jenny released an exasperated sigh, but said nothing.

"But now, all of a sudden," Brad went on. "It's like this is a life-or-death matter for you, like your whole life depends on it. I mean, let's just say, for the sake of argument, worst-case scenario: That he doesn't want to be friends with you anymore. Well…is it really the end of the world for you? I mean, with or without Sheldon, your life is still pretty full regardless, you have to admit. And your life still goes on, right? So is it really worth it to you to get yourself all worked up into a turmoil over him? And is it really going to make that much of a difference to you in the long run? Think about it. I mean, I know, I know; I get it: it never feels good to be rejected by anybody, but even so…" He shook his head. "It's almost like you let yourself get dependent on him, like your whole life suddenly revolves around him and nothing else, like you're obsessed with him. It doesn't seem like you, and to be honest, I don't think it's healthy, either."

She frowned at him. "So what are you trying to say?" she asked, her tone instantly defensive and challenging. "You think I'm losing my grip or something? Is that it? Huh?! Huh?!"

"No, no…" he said, shaking his head. "Not exactly. But…well, I do think you're losing your perspective on this whole thing. I mean, it's like you're letting it get so out of hand that it's almost like it's taken over your whole life, and you're losing sight of all the other things you've got going for you. Things like…like other interests…other activities…other people…"

She didn't answer, but merely turned away and stared silently into space.

Brad hastened add, "I guess what I'm trying to say is…that maybe it's not good to spend so much time and energy stressing over what you don't have that you lose sight of what you do have here and now."

She didn't answer, but merely lowered her head. "You just don't understand…" she softly muttered.

Brad sighed. "Well, I'm trying to," he said. "But to be honest, you're not making it any easier. And I still don't get why this is so important to you. I know we've been over it before, again and again, but I'm still not getting it."

Jenny lifted her head, turned and stared at him, her expression both grim and strangely melancholy, in a way that Brad had never seen in her before. Finally she asked, in a soft, quiet, confidential tone, "You want to know why this is so important to me? Do you really want to know? All right. I'll tell you. Do you remember the day we first met?"

Brad immediately broke into a huge smile and nodded. "Oh, yeah!" he said. "I remember that day! Like it was yesterday! It was one of the happiest days of my life! And I'm sure Tuck feels the same way, too! Things were never the same for either of us after that, that's for sure!"

Jenny smiled in return—the first time Brad had seen her smile all day, in fact. "Same here. Especially since…" she hesitated, then went on, her smile fading. "See, you gotta remember: Before that day, I spent most of my life in near-total isolation. I only left the house for very short periods of time, to go on specific missions, and that was all. I had no friends, no social life of any kind, no nothing! No contact with anyone from the outside world. All I had was my mom. My earliest memories were of being cooped-up inside the house all day long… Looking through windows at the outside world…seeing people…wanting to meet them…talk to them…make friends with them…maybe even play with them…" She paused. "And yet…I couldn't; it wasn't allowed." She sighed sadly and continued. "It was the loneliest time of my life. If it hadn't been for you guys showing up that day and making friends with me when you did, I…I don't know what I might have done."

"Hey, I was happy to be there for you!" Brad replied with a broad, encouraging smile. "Believe me. Meeting you and making friends with you was the best thing that ever happened to me! Me and Tuck both! You made a huge difference in both our lives!"

She smiled wider, grateful for the kind words, then her smile faded slightly. "Thanks," she said. "I feel the same about you guys, too. You know that. You both made a big difference in my life, too. You helped me in a lot of ways to…you know, get used to everything, being outside, being around other people and just…you know…adjust to things and try to live a normal life. But best of all…you guys taught me how to have fun!" She beamed widely, and Brad returned her smile.

She continued. "So…I guess that's why I can't let this thing go with Sheldon. Because I keep remembering what it was like for me during those years and how lonely I was. Believe me, if it's possible for a robot to die of loneliness, that's how I felt at the time. And looking back, I now wonder if maybe that's a little like how Sheldon felt at the time too, only I didn't realize it then. All he wanted was to be my friend…just like you guys were. And if I'd been there for him when he needed me, the way you and Tuck were there for me, it would've made such a huge difference in his life, too. If only I'd been just a little nicer to him when I had the chance, it would've meant so much to him… It would've changed so many things… Heck, it would've changed everything!"

She paused, then continued in a soft, quiet, contemplative tone, as though she were speaking only to herself. "So many things would have turned out differently… So much trouble could have been avoided…" She paused with a forlorn sigh. "So many chances wasted, so many opportunities gone…and yet…I didn't even try…! I just let opportunity after opportunity slip right through my fingers…"

She paused for a long time and concluded her thought. "So. Now I feel like this is my last chance with him; my last chance to finally make things right once and for all, and make the effort with him that I should have made in the first place. And if I blow it this time—or worse!—if I just give up and quit, then it's like I failed him all over again! And I cannot admit failure! I just can't!" She paused, and continued in a softer tone. "Now do you see what I mean? Why this is so important to me?"

"Yeah…yeah, I guess so," Brad replied guardedly, nodding his head. "I think I understand what you mean… It kinda makes a little more sense now, the way you explain it…" Truthfully however, he still didn't quite fully understand the reasoning behind her sudden fixation with Sheldon, but he was trying. And the picture was becoming at least a little clearer to him now.

"Still…" she said after a long pause. "There's one other thing that bothers me though, one thing I still can't figure out…"

"Yeah, what's that?" Brad prompted.

"Well…it's something he said earlier…" she said. "When I asked him if he'd like to join us for lunch, you know what his reaction was? He didn't just say 'no thanks' and leave it at that. No, instead he…he didn't believe me! He thought I was putting him on, like I was setting him up for a prank or a practical joke or something!" She looked at him, bewildered. "I mean, can you believe it? How could he think such a thing about me? I would never do a thing like that to him, no matter what! Not even if I was really, really angry at him! Cripes, he ought to know me better than that by now!"

"Yeah…yeah, I know what you mean," Brad replied, nodding in agreement. "I don't know what's with him lately either, come to think of it. It's like he's real touchy, almost paranoid, like he doesn't trust anybody anymore. I mean, when I tried to talk to him a little while ago, he practically took my head off! He really blew his top and overreacted, and said he was sick and tired of everybody laughing at him all the time."

"He said that?" she asked.

Brad nodded. "Yeah; those were his exact words."

"Huh…that's weird," she said. "What exactly did you say to him? Maybe he thought you were kidding him or making fun of him or something."

"I swear, I wasn't!" he said. "I just wanted to talk to him for a second, that's all."

"Oh," she said. "What about?"

He hesitated and looked away.

"Well? What about?"

"Oh, just…stuff… You know…"

"What stuff?" She asked, eyeing him narrowly.

He continued to avoid her gaze, still not answering.

She released an exasperated sigh. "You weren't gonna talk to him about any of this stuff, were you?" she asked, a suspicious edge creeping into her voice. "You know, the stuff we've just been talking about…?"

He swallowed. "Well…I…I…" he hesitated, unable to outright admit it, but unable to deny it, either.

"Well…?" she stared at him with a subzero-temperature glare, causing him to cringe. Otherwise, he remained absolutely silent.

"Doggone it, Brad!" she exclaimed, immediately and accurately reading his nonverbal signals. "I specifically told you I didn't want you mentioning any of this to him! I told you this was my problem, and that I wanted to handle it myself!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" Brad exclaimed. "Guilty as charged, I admit it!"

Jenny released another exasperated sigh and looked away. "Cripes, now I feel like I can't trust anyone anymore!"

"I said I'm sorry!" he protested. "Besides, I didn't even get a chance to say that much anyhow. I barely even opened my mouth before he blew up."

She settled into a chilly silence, still not looking at him.

"Look, I'm sorry, all right?" he said. "I just wanted to help, that's all."

Slowly, she turned to face him, still frowning, but with her expression softened slightly. Though she was still extremely annoyed at him, she knew deep down that his intentions were good, and that she couldn't stay too angry at him.

"All right," she said in gentler tone. "But this is the last time I'm gonna say it. Seriously. From now on, let me handle this myself. Okay?"

He sighed. "Okay," He agreed.

They looked at each other in silence for another long moment. Then, Jenny began to draw back and away ever so slightly, her eyes lowered. "Brad, I—" she softly began, before she was interrupted by a loud voice calling from afar.

"Carbunkle!" Coach Wiggins called out from the basketball court. "What're you doing over there? Come on, man! Let's get a move on! We've only got an hour! Let's move it!"

Brad turned away to reply. "Coming, Coach!" he called back, then turned to face Jenny again. "Listen, I gotta go. We'll talk more about this later, okay?" He rose to his feet, took a step, then paused. "You gonna be all right?" he asked.

She nodded. "I'll be fine," she said, forcing a strained smile to her face. "Thanks for listening…and being a good friend."

"Anytime," Brad replied with a reassuring smile, then turned and reluctantly jogged over to the basketball court. The coach tossed him a basketball upon his arrival, and he immediately started dribbling, then passed the ball to one of his friends, though his thoughts were far from the game at hand.

Jenny looked after him for a moment longer, then lowered her head again, settling back into her own private sulk.

I know he thinks I'm just being stubborn and ridiculous and overly dramatic about this whole thing, she thought. And maybe I am! But I don't care! And I'm not jealous, either! No matter what he says! But OH! When I think about what that creepy girl said….oooo! She shuddered. It…it just gets to me! Because…oh, I know I should have been nicer to Sheldon when I had the chance, but even so…I am still his friend! No matter what that nasty little brat said! And I'm not just 'pretending' anything, either!

Nor can I believe that Sheldon's really through with me! No…no, I just can't accept that. I know he's still so cold and distant to me, but even so… I just know that somewhere deep down inside him, there's some small part of him that still wants me… Some small part that's willing to give me another chance, under the right circumstances… I just have to reach it, that's all. I know Mom would probably say that this is just one of those things I can't change, that I just have to accept it and live with it and know when to let go and all that, but…I just can't! I just…I have to see this through and know that I tried everything, that I made every effort I can with him, and that there's nothing else I can do... Otherwise I'll always feel like I failed! So until I tried everything and until I look into Sheldon's eyes and hear from his own lips that he really truly doesn't want to see me anymore, then I won't believe it! And I won't accept it, either!

She sighed sadly. But what if that really is how he feels…? She wondered. What then…?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a rough, belligerent voice bellowing at her from directly above. "Wakeman!" the voice thundered. Jenny's head snapped up with a jolt to see the beet-red countenance of Coach Muspratt glowering down at her. Instantly her entire body stiffened as though she'd been frozen in a block of acrylic. She'd been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn't even heard the gym teacher's approach.

"On your feet, Wakeman!" Muspratt barked. "On your feet! Now!"

Without hesitation, Jenny did as ordered, instantly jumping to her feet and snapping to attention before the ill-tempered teacher.

"I hope you enjoyed your nice quiet little time-out over here, Wakeman!" the coach growled at her. "Sitting here on your lazy fanny while the rest of the class was out there working their tails off! I hope it was worth it to you, because I'm marking you absent for today! That's right, Cupcake! You get a big fat zero for today! So congratulations!"

"But—!" Jenny started to object.

"And you're going to be making up for it, too!" Muspratt went on without missing a beat. "Just so you won't think you got away with anything! Which means two hundred laps for you next class! Got that, Snowflake? Two hundred laps!"

"But…! But…!" Jenny continued to sputter in helpless frustration, ready to argue the point and explain that the reason she was late was because she'd spent half the class-period in Vice-Principal Razinski's office, getting chewed-out. But then she realized that it would only open up a whole new can of worms and lead to a whole new bunch of stupid questions, which she didn't particularly feel like answering, and…at the last picosecond, she gave up on the whole idea.

Oh, what's the use? She asked herself in near-despair. It won't make any difference anyway…!

So instead she merely nodded. "Yes, Coach…" she replied in a tiny, resigned, pitifully-feeble voice. "I…understand…"

"Good!" the coach bellowed. "Now hit the showers! Look at you, you're a mess! You're a disgrace to this entire school!"

With a final sigh of surrender, Jenny turned and headed for the girls' shower-room to wash up.


The rest of the afternoon wore tortuously on for Jenny, the minutes seeming to tick by with all the rapidity of drifting glaciers, as she longed for the day to simply end already. The day that had begun with such high hopes and optimism for her had suddenly and inexplicably deteriorated into a dismal, discouraging disaster for her all around.

On top of the disastrous turn of events, Jenny also knew that she was really under the microscope now, on very thin ice and that any deviation at all from "acceptable" conduct on her part would likely result in an immediate report to Vice-Principal Razinski, who would no doubt use it as an excuse to send her home early as a reprimand. So she dutifully kept a low profile for the remainder of the day, doing as little as possible, trying to avoid drawing any more undue attention to herself.

She had seen very little of Sheldon during the remainder of the afternoon, only occasional glimpses on the way to class. She wanted to approach him several times to say something, to talk to him, but…she didn't dare. She couldn't risk saying or doing anything that could be misconstrued and reported back to Vice-Principal Razinski.

She still didn't know for sure how or why things had suddenly turned so sour between herself and Sheldon that day… Or why he suddenly felt compelled to go running off after some strange new girl! Nevertheless, she felt there was a chance that if only she could manage to talk with him just once more, without interruption, without distractions…and without anyone else around to interfere or otherwise get in the way, then she might still be able to straighten it all out between them, just as she'd always done before. But as the afternoon wore on, and both the time and remaining opportunities to talk to Sheldon diminished, she became increasingly anxious and agitated.

Eventually, of course, the end of the day approached, with only one final class-period remaining. By now, the entire student-body had lapsed into either a boredom-induced state of semi-consciousness, or—like Jenny—a state of restless, tense agitation, anxious to simply finish up, get out and be done for the day.

The final class of the day for both Jenny and Sheldon was Fourth Dimensional Calculus, one of the few afternoon classes which they shared. They both arrived a few minutes early, taking their usual seats, he in the front row, while she sat a few seats behind and a couple of rows over. She quietly observed him as more students ambled in. It was agonizing for her; she wanted desperately to go over and talk to him, but…did she dare risk it? After all, it was by now so close to the end of the day anyway that she had little left to lose…

And as she watched Sheldon, and realized just how much she wanted to say to him—and more importantly, what she needed to hear from him—and how little time remained before the bell rang, her desperation and anxiety grew.

I have to say something now! She finally decided. I just have to!

Glancing up at Mr. Bustoff's desk to ensure that the instructor was preoccupied with the various pieces of paperwork on his desk, Jenny leaned over toward Sheldon, and loudly whispered, "Psst! Hey!" she hissed. "Sheldon! Sheldon!"

Sheldon jumped at the muted call of his name, then turned and looked over his shoulder to see Jenny facing him.

"Yeah…?" he whispered in response, his voice and expression both tense.

"I—" she began, still in loud-whisper mode, before glancing up one last time at the teacher's desk. "That is…can I…can I talk to you?"

"Well…um…" He quickly glanced up at the clock on the wall, then back to her. "Class is about to start any minute now, so—"

"Not here, not now. But after school?"

Sheldon's eyes narrowed. Ohhhhh, is she going to give me grief over that stupid ugly lunchtime scene too? He wondered.

"What about?" he asked suspiciously.

"I—" Jenny started to say, then stopped herself. "Well, it's… I…can't say it here. Later on. Outside. When we're alone."

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, I—" he started to say.

"Just for a few minutes, Jenny hastily added. "That's all. Just give me five minutes and…if you want, I…" she hesitated, reluctant to voice what she had to say next. "I'll…leave you alone after that..." It wasn't easy, but she had to say it. "I promise I won't bother you anymore after that if you don't want me to. Only please let me talk to you just once more." She paused, then added, "Please?"

He stared at her in silence, as though reluctant to say anything, either affirmative or negative.

In final desperation, Jenny added another, even more plaintive, "Please?"

Something in Jenny's tone and manner struck Sheldon just then, a certain vulnerability that Sheldon had almost never heard in her before. Despite his initial suspicions and skepticism however, he nevertheless relaxed slightly and began to lower his guard.

At last he gave in. "All right," he said. "After school. I'll…I'll meet you outside after school, and…and you can—" he hesitated. "Tell me…whatever it is you want…"

Jenny opened her mouth, about to respond, but she was interrupted by the sound of the bell ringing. Immediately, she clamped her mouth shut and faced forward, assuming her best 'attentive' pose as Mr. Bustoff lumbered to his feet like an enormous grizzly bear rousing from a long hibernation and began taking roll.

So…okay! Jenny thought. That's that! It's not much, but at least it's an opening…! A chance…that's all I need…! Just a chance!

"And now class," Bustoff began, after finishing the roll. "We will continue with yesterday's problem. Solving a hypothetical equation in hyperdimensional quantum mechanics, as applied to gravity-inversion fields of plasma energy in fourth-dimensional hyperspace..."

The announcement prompted muted groans from many in the class, who all dreaded the brain-busting nature of the lesson to come. All, that is, except for a select, gifted few such as Sheldon, who sat bolt upright, eager to absorb and memorize every small detail and syllable of the lesson with rapt attention.


At last the bell rang, bringing the final class of the day to a close, which resulted in enormous sighs of relief sounding from all the classrooms throughout the entire school, accompanied by relieved stretching, and the hasty gathering up of textbooks and other, personal items. There followed a mad rush for the exits, interrupted only by the occasional instructor calling out last-minute instructions to the departing students.

"Wait, wait, wait," Mr. Bustoff called out to his rapidly-departing class in his booming foghorn voice. "For tomorrow, I want Chapter Forty-Two read and outlined by all of you, and I want you to work problems…" he paused, consulting his own copy of the textbook. "One, three…seven, eight, nine and…." He focused his gaze narrowly on the page of the thick book. "Seventeen. I want all of them solved by tomorrow. You can skip the rest, they're garbage." There were some chuckles at his final comment, but they were mostly drowned out by exasperated moans, groans and exasperated clicking of tongues.

"Oh! And Mr. Lee…" the instructor added at the very last. "I'd like a word with you after class for a few minutes, please."

At this, there sounded a couple of muted gasps of surprise from the class, along with a few titters, and whispered taunts of, "Ooooooo, Sheldon's in trouble! Sheldon's in trouble!" and the like.

Sheldon heard the remarks, but he ignored them. He wasn't in trouble, and he knew it—he almost never was. He didn't know for sure what the instructor wanted to speak to him about, but he had a fairly good idea.

"Yes sir," he replied, then waited patiently for the classroom to fully empty before approaching the teacher's desk.

Jenny remained in her seat for only a moment longer before she also rose to her feet, and with one final, longing look in Sheldon's direction, turned and reluctantly exited along with the rest of the students.

Once the classroom was empty, Sheldon stepped over to Bustoff's desk, where he patiently waited.

Bustoff looked up. "Please. Have a seat," he said, motioning with a large, meaty hand to a chair beside the desk. Sheldon did as instructed, sitting down.

"This will only take a moment," Bustoff went on, as he continued scribbling down some notes on sheets of paper. Sheldon merely sat mutely and waited. In spite of himself, he shuddered slightly when in close proximity of the teacher, who was still physically imposing even when seated. Even though Sheldon had gotten to know and admire Bustoff quite well over the past year, he still sometimes felt a bit intimidated by him—especially when viewing the man close up. Looking up at the huge, mountainous teacher, Sheldon felt like a mouse facing a mammoth.

Mr. Bustoff was definitely an intimidating, even frightening presence among the Tremorton High faculty, there was no question about that. At six feet, six inches in height and well over three hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle, with shaved head, scarred, craggy face and a full, bushy beard, Bustoff looked every inch and ounce like the pro wrestler he'd formerly been as he worked his way through college to earn his degrees. When Sheldon had first lain eyes on the teacher at the beginning of the school year, he was absolutely terrified of the man, just as the rest of the students were. But over time, that fear gradually evolved into an enormous respect, and even admiration, for the man himself, his kind-hearted nature, and for his considerable intellectual prowess, once they all became evident during the classroom lectures. And although the instructor had a well-earned reputation for being a hard taskmaster in the courses he taught, putting up with no nonsense of any kind, he was also known for being scrupulously fair and infinitely patient. If a student had difficulty grasping a particularly vexing problem or concept, and truly struggled with it after putting in a sincere and honest effort, then Bustoff would take as much time as necessary to carefully explain the problem, phrasing and rephrasing it in progressively simple terms until it finally became clear to the student. But if a student was lazy or unmotivated or simply unwilling to put in the necessary time or effort, then Bustoff had no patience at all and wouldn't put up with it, and that was that.

But what Sheldon admired most of all about Bustoff, even more than the instructor's kind nature and impressive teaching-skills, was the fact that for the past year and a half, the immense, physically-imposing and frightening-looking teacher had been trying to get an official anti-bullying program started at the school. It was an issue that, as it became clear, was very important to the instructor, one that he deeply, even passionately cared about. However, he was also mostly alone in his efforts, often facing both indifference and lack of support, both from the rest of the school faculty as well as from the school administration. Nevertheless, Bustoff persevered and continued to work tirelessly in his efforts to get his pet project off the ground. Sheldon admired him all the more for it, as well as for his dedication and tenacity.

Sheldon's respect and admiration for the teacher also became mutual over time. It didn't take the instructor long to recognize the unique intellectual gifts of the quirky, eccentric young student in an otherwise unremarkable class, and he soon did everything he could to both encourage and challenge Sheldon, offering both encouragement and guidance when needed, assigning him tantalizing problems that were challenging enough to keep him interested, and yet not so difficult as to frustrate or discourage him. It was a tough balancing-act for an instructor to maintain, but as Sheldon continued to rise to the challenge each time, Bustoff's respect and admiration for his prize student likewise continued to grow over the course of the school year.

Bustoff jotted down a few final notes, then gathered up the pages in his beefy hands and slipped them into a battered leather briefcase. "Thank you for your patience, Mr. Lee," he said. "But that couldn't wait. I have a faculty meeting in a few minutes." He then sat up straight and eyed Sheldon directly.

"Now then," Bustoff began. "I thought you'd like to know that I made those inquiries you and I talked about some days ago, and I'm happy to inform you that my efforts have borne fruit." He smiled a toothy grin—intended to be friendly and ingratiating, but which often produced the opposite effect in people. He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a handful of shiny, colorful folders and booklets, laying them down on the desktop for Sheldon to examine.

"As you see, I was able to obtain brochures, course-catalogues and other materials about some of the degree programs they have available at all three of the learning institutions we discussed," Bustoff said, his smile widening and displaying more gapped and broken, jagged teeth. "Poly Tech, Roarke University and the Galt Institute of Technology. I have materials here for all of them!"

Sheldon's eyes opened wide until they fairly popped out of his head. He gazed upon the brochures as though they were much-desired birthday presents and his mouth dropped open. With trembling hands, he reached out to the materials and tenderly picked them up, examining them one by one, handling them with utmost care as though they were priceless treasures. "Wow….!" He half-whispered, nearly speechless with emotion. He eagerly flipped through the pages of each brochure, course-catalog and degree-program folder as though they were brand-new copies of highly-anticipated graphic novels and manga.

"Based upon what you told me are your areas of interest," Bustoff went on. "And what I believe are your most prominent strengths and aptitudes, I think any one of these majors programs would be your best bet." He tapped the brochures with the tips of his massive, sausage-like fingers. "And, needless to say, I think you'd be very happy with any one of them, too."

Sheldon's excitement continued to grow until, almost completely overcome with emotion, he looked up from the brochures and regarded the teacher with a huge, radiant smile that fairly illuminated the classroom. "Geez…! I…I…I don't know what to say, Mr. Bustoff!" He finally managed to utter. "Except…thanks! Thanks a million! Thanks a million times a googol-plex!"

Bustoff chuckled and casually waved a meaty hand. "Any time. Glad I could help. After all, it isn't every day that I get the opportunity to help a truly gifted student!"

"Oh, gee…! I don't know 'bout that…" Sheldon replied with a sheepish grin, somewhat embarrassed by the praise.

"Now, now, there's no need to be modest!" Bustoff said with a hearty laugh. "You're smart and you know it. We both know it. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Be proud of it. And you're a good student, too. You work hard and you apply yourself. You can be proud of that, too." Bustoff spoke the words with such sincerity and conviction that it was clear he truly meant them. More importantly, he knew that Sheldon needed to hear and believe them, too.

Sheldon continued to browse through the course-materials in awed silence for another few moments, when Bustoff spoke again.

"So…" he said gently. "You're really going to transfer, huh?"

Sheldon looked up. "Yeah," he said. "Well…I mean…that is…not officially… I still haven't even mentioned it to my mom yet. But yeah, I definitely want to if I can."

"Well…" Bustoff said. "I'll certainly be sorry to see you go, of course. Like I said, it isn't every day that I get a gifted student who really enjoys the subjects I teach, thrives on them, really wants to learn, and who is, if I can say it, just plain fun to teach!" Sheldon laughed at the teacher's comments, still slightly embarrassed, unaccustomed as he was to hearing such praise from anyone.

"No, it's true!" Bustoff went on, joining in Sheldon's laughter. "I mean it. I've been teaching at this school for nearly seven years now, and to be honest, it's been a real grind most of that time. In fact—now, don't tell anyone I said this—but to tell you the truth, I often feel like I'm wasting my time here at Tremorton. Most of the students I get stuck with don't seem to want to learn, they don't even want to try to learn. In fact, I often get the feeling they're nothing but a bunch of meatheads! Dead from the neck up, most of them!"

Sheldon burst into laughter at this, as did Bustoff himself, in a moment of perfect, mutual understanding between teacher and student.

"I'm serious!" Bustoff laughed. "During my lectures, I sometimes feel as though I should walk around the classroom, checking for pulses or other signs of life, just to make sure!"

Teacher and student enjoyed another laugh together; then, once it subsided, the teacher turned serious again.

"But you're right, of course," he said soberly. "You really should be in a better school. And this is a wonderful opportunity for you, one you ought to pursue. Tremorton High really isn't the place for you. I shouldn't say this, since this is my school, after all, but with your aptitude, you really deserve better than what we have to offer here. You deserve nothing but the best education available in my opinion, and I honestly believe that Poly Tech, followed by either Galt or Roarke U., can give you that."

"Well, I'm—I—I do appreciate that, Mr. Bustoff," Sheldon said. "And I really do appreciate all your help in getting this stuff for me. It'll make it a whole lot easier for me to 'sell' my mom on the idea of me transferring to a different school."

"I gotta warn you, though," Bustoff went on. "It won't be a picnic. All three of these places are tough to get into; Galt and Roarke, especially. They don't just let in any bozo off the street; they only let in the really smart people, the brightest of the bright. Now I know that when it comes to brains, you're a big fish in a small pond here at Tremorton; but over at one of these places," he paused and tapped one of the brochures with a massive fingertip. "You'll be just another big fish in a very big lake, with a whole lot of other big fish, too! And make no mistake about that. You'll really need to work hard just to keep up, let alone stand out and get noticed."

"They're real competitive, huh?" Sheldon asked.

Bustoff nodded. "Oh, yeah! You better believe it. They don't fool around once you're in there. They really expect you to toe the line and perform. They don't cut any slack when it comes to late homework assignments or substandard work on any level, for that matter. You'll have to maintain absolute top-notch grades throughout in all your courses. And…there are other factors involved, too; things such as overall attitude, general bearing and personal conduct and so forth." He paused. "But…I don't think you have to worry about that too much. You get consistently good grades, you're very good on turning in your homework on time, and you don't strike me as being a troublemaker, or someone who's just going to goof off in class or otherwise waste the teachers' time."

"Thanks," Sheldon said. "I… You know, I try to do my best…"

"And, of course, a good reference, or letter of introduction doesn't exactly hurt, either," Bustoff continued. "I'd be more than happy to write one for you, if you'd like. As a teacher of yours, and as a former Roarke alumni, it might make a big difference. Not necessarily in terms of admission, which is based on your grades and scholastic aptitude, but later on it may help a lot in getting a scholarship, or maybe even getting you into a fellowship for post-graduate work. Speaking of which, I assume you're going for a Doctorate eventually, right?" He eyed Sheldon narrowly. "Right?"

Sheldon smiled and nodded enthusiastically. "Right!" he replied without hesitation.

"Good, good," Bustoff murmured with a smile, visibly pleased with the response. "That's what I like to hear. Anyway, yes, a good letter of introduction from me might cut some pretty big ice in getting into a fellowship when the time comes."

Suddenly, something the teacher had said a moment ago struck Sheldon, and he asked, "Did you say you attended Roarke University, Mr. Bustoff?"

Bustoff nodded, grinning widely. "Yep!" he said. "I sure did!"

"Wow…!" Sheldon was stunned. He couldn't believe his ears; nor could he picture the lumbering, mountainous former pro wrestler seated before him attending such a prestigious academic institution.

"And let me tell you, it wasn't easy!" the instructor went on. "Either getting admitted or getting through those courses, let alone graduating! Attending classes during the day and wrestling in the ring at night was no piece of cake, believe me! Looking back, I don't know how the heck I managed it, but somehow I did!" He released a hearty belly-laugh and went on. "I gotta tell you, though," he laughed. "The other wrestlers? They all thought I was some kind of nut! There I was in my dressing-room in between matches, poring over my textbooks while getting a massage or a rubdown! Everybody else was talking about upcoming matches and schedules and the size of the crowds and earnings and who got top-billing and stuff like that, and there I was, trying to work out these complex mathematical equations with pencil and paper, and worrying about how the heck I was going to pass my final exams!"

Both Sheldon and his instructor shared another good, hearty laugh, before Bustoff glanced down at his watch. "Anyway…," he said, gathering some more papers from the desktop and shoving them into his briefcase. "I really gotta get going now. I've got a faculty meeting in…shoot, less than five minutes!" With that he rose from his chair, with Sheldon doing likewise.

"Well, thanks again, Mr. Bustoff!" Sheldon said, extending his hand. "Thanks a gazillion!"

"Any time, Mr. Lee," Bustoff replied, returning the handshake, Sheldon's much-smaller hand disappearing into the big man's gigantic paw like a vitamin-pill getting swallowed up in a catcher's mitt. "I hope everything works out for you, whatever you decide to do. I'll say 'Good luck,' even though I have a feeling you won't need it. Luck is not a factor for a true Man of the Mind."


End Chapter 11