Author's Note:

I'm still blown away by the response this story evokes. With every chapter new alerts and favorites blow up my inbox and I'm truly amazed by that. I can't thank you people enough for that and I'm constantly hoping to live up to your expectations, even though I am a little bummed about the lack of verbal response from you. I would really like to hear what you think about the whole background I'm setting up for Eric. It would make me truly happy.

Aside from that, I'm relieved that I finally have this chapter up. To be honest with you, this was kind of a struggle. Writing this story has gone pretty smooth up to this point, but this one simply wouldn't function the way I wanted it to. It took me quite a lot of research, patience and beauty sleep to get this written and I had to cut the flashback into a two-parter once more. The other part of it is not yet written, there's merely a raw outline for it. If it hadn't been for Dubigail, I probably wouldn't even be able to present you this chapter. She provided a lot of input and support and I can't thank her enough for that.

April 2000

With a hall pass and a small piece of paper tightly grasped in his left and the strap of his shoulder bag in his right hand Eric Beale hastily stumbled down the hall to the principal's office. He came to a halt in front of the imposing mahogany door, breathed in and exhaled deeply and closing his eyes briefly in the process. Opening them again he looked down at the note. The message was from the principal herself, asking for him to report to her office immediately. He'd been called straight out of a Science test for that, ten minutes before the bell rang lunch break in.

He knocked with more confidence than he felt and entered as soon as the door buzzed open. Eric had been in here twice: the first time for the registration in the school, the second time a month into his freshman year for the initial assessment as how he'd settled into school life here. Both were reasonable and innocent enough for him not to be worried. But this time was different. He had no idea as to why he was called to the principal. He only had a vague suspicion and if that turned out to be true it wouldn't exactly be a pleasant meeting.

Eric closed the door behind him and remained standing a little awkwardly near the entrance, eyes set straight on the principal. Mrs. Martinez was a woman in her early forties, but with a sense of modern fashion that had her appear at least ten years younger. Her black hair was tied in a ponytail and she wore eccentrically formed red-rimmed glasses, which gave her an air of comradely authority. She was well liked both by her staff and the students because of the way she handled things professionally but in a lenient way. She was by-the-book, but she was a fair woman and didn't judge a situation without knowing all the facts.

Right now, her eyes were still set on some papers spread out on her desk and she had yet to acknowledge him, so Eric cleared his throat and offered, "You asked to see me, Mrs. Martinez?"

The principal signed one of the forms lying in front of her before raising her eyes to meet his. She smiled at him. "Yes, I did. I didn't expect you yet, though. As far as I'm aware, your Science class was in the middle of a test," she offered as an explanation for her preoccupation.

Eric blushed ever so slightly. "Yeah, we were. Well, the rest of the class still is. I finished already."

There was a knowing expression on Mrs. Martinez face. "I see. Don't worry, it's alright. Please sit down." She nodded at the chair opposite to hers and Eric shuffled over, unstrapped his shoulder bag and sat it next to the chair while taking a seat.

"Why did you call me here?" Eric asked dreadfully and dropped his hands in his lap, fidgeting with them.

Mrs. Martinez raised her brows, impressed with the confidence in his voice. She had heard him to be a quiet student, mostly only speaking when spoken to, never the one to initiate a conversation by himself. This was surprising. "Straight to the point, are you, Mr. Beale?" Her expression turned from amused to serious. "Okay then. I will cut right to the chase. It was brought to my attention that your mother didn't keep her appointment for the parent- teacher conference. It was scheduled for yesterday."

Eric resisted the urge to avert his eyes and worried his upper lip instead. He had suspected this to be the reason for him to be called here. He took a deep breath, gathered his courage to give her a believable explanation, but the moment he opened his mouth another knock sounded at the door. Mrs. Martinez smiled at him apologetically and buzzed the interferer in. The teenager turned around to see Mr. Wellington, his Science teacher, who until a few minutes ago had supervised his class and the Science test. "Eric." The teacher gave him a brief nod and Eric turned back to Martinez with confusion.

"Mr. Wellington is the one who brought your mother's absence to my attention. I understand he has taken you under his wings and became a mentor of sorts to you. I felt it might be beneficial to have him present during this meeting," Martinez explained to the blond boy and he in turn nodded with hesitation. "Please, continue," she urged him.

Eric cleared his throat and started again. "My mother had an urgent doctor's appointment yesterday. It was too important to skip and she got it on such a short notice that she didn't have time to cancel the conference. I was hoping she called afterwards to let the school know about it, but I assume she must have forgotten about it or it was too late in the afternoon or something." He rushed through the words without so much as taking a breath and having the words out made him gasp for much needed oxygen. He closed his eyes, well aware that his inability to stay calm and collected was probably a dead giveaway that this was a rehearsed answer. While not all of it was a lie it wasn't the entire truth either. His mother did have an important appointment with her neurologist, but that was two days ago.

The teenager opened his eyes just in time to notice the look Mr. Wellington and Mrs. Martinez shared and knew immediately that they didn't believe his feeble attempt at whitewashing the true reason behind his mothers' absence. The principal was the one to call him on it. "While I'm impressed by your ability to fabricate such a viable excuse, I assume we can all agree on the fact that you are not telling the truth." She gave him a pervasive look. "Am I right, Mr. Beale?"

Eric gulped and broke eye contact, making it even more obvious that he wasn't being honest with them. He was still tenacious to stick with his story, though. "This is the truth." His voice couldn't have belied the statement more and Eric mentally slapped himself for not being able to deceive the two adults in the room.

"Eric, you are too smart to believe we would buy this." This time it was Mr. Wellington's deep baritone cutting in. The voice was gentle, not accusing but Eric could hear a tiny hint of disappointment in there and it made him cringe. "If this was the first time that your mother missed the conference we might have believed you, but unfortunately this is the second scheduled meeting that she didn't show up at." The teacher moved gradually into Eric's field of vision and the blonde student looked up at him with trepidation.

"Sorry," he offered gravelly. He honestly didn't know what else to say.

Mrs. Martinez took over the conversation again. "Mr. Beale, we don't usually make a big deal out of the meet-ups with the parents. In fact, we don't schedule a conference unless there is a solid reason for it."

Eric glanced up at that, eyes narrowed in confusion. "But there isn't in my case is there? I haven't done anything wrong and I don't have trouble with the school work. Why am I in trouble?"

"You are not in trouble. And we know that you aren't struggling with school, quite the contrary. That is why we need to have your mother present in order to discuss your academic advancement," Mrs. Martinez explained matter-of-factly.

The teenager frowned, even more confused now. "What do you mean by 'academic advancement'?" A foreboding feeling made itself known and his stomach twisted dreadfully.

"Like I said, I have to discuss this with your mother in person."

Eric was getting irritated now and couldn't help but showing it to the principal and his teacher. "But this obviously concerns me. So unless this is something I'm not supposed to know about, which is highly unlikely, you might as well tell me what it is, even if you need my mother's consent to follow through with whatever it is." Making logical connections was always a strong suit of him and thankfully his ability to connect the dots wasn't failing him now and gave him the advantage of sounding most confident.

Mr. Wellington allowed himself a small smile. This kid was a conundrum, shy and awkward when socially challenged, but determined and strong-willed when he needed to be. The Science teacher shared a look with the principal. She gave him permission to tell the teen with a single nod. He pulled up a chair next to his protégé and sat down.

"Mr. Beale," he started, but interrupted and corrected himself. "Eric. I can't say for certain about your other courses, but you are above average in all my Science classes. You are way ahead with subject matters and I can see that you feel unchallenged." He stopped for a moment, taking in the expression of deep concentration on the students' face. "Today was a perfect example. You finished your test twenty minutes before the period ended. This test was designed to fill the entire ninety minutes. This clearly tells me that you manage your current curriculum effortlessly." Eric blushed and avoided eye contact, feeling uncomfortable with the praise. "You don't belong with a group of freshman. I'm convinced you would handle your school work just fine if you sat in with the juniors."

The last statement had Erics' head snap up. He blinked his eyes a couple times, but was too shell-shocked to say anything.

Mrs. Martinez decided to pick the conversation up. "Mr. Wellington is not the only teacher who addressed your intellectual superiority in comparison to your fellow students. Almost every one of your teachers praised on your scholastic achievement when your name came up in the last staff meeting. You are advanced in all of your classes, Art class and Physical Education being the only exceptions."

Eric was well aware of the fact that he was a straight A student if you didn't count PE. Sports had never really been his thing. He had still participated back in elementary school and tried to keep up right after he had jumped a class, but it had gradually become harder and harder for him to keep up with his older and bigger classmates and the lack of a sports gene had him discouraged rather soon. He didn't skip PE, but he was merely present and when it came to team sports he usually remained on the sidelines, invisible to teachers and students.

"However," Martinez continued, oblivious to his thoughts, "the faculty was in agreement that whole-grade acceleration would be most suitable for you." She stopped talking, glanced over the rims of her glasses first at Eric, who remained silent and looked a little weirded out, and when it was clear to her that he wouldn't be saying anything she turned her attention to the other male in the room and gave him a nod.

Mr. Wellington took the cue. "I can imagine that this might come as a surprise to you." Eric shook his head. "Or maybe it doesn't. You have been accelerated before, after all." The teen shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "Listen, Eric. Your participation in class is still acceptable. But despite your knowledge you don't take part in the discussion as much as I would like you to. You are obviously bored and I can tell from past experiences that boredom can lead to inattention, which in turn leads to a deterioration of grades. You are not there yet, but it might happen if you feel you don't even have to try."

"That's not true," Eric interjected now, cutting his mentor off effectively. "I am paying attention in class and I don't think I don't need to try. Learning just comes easy to me." He didn't know why he felt the need to defend himself on the matter, he just did. And as soon as he saw the raised eyebrows and slightly tilted forward head of his teacher he closed his mouth, pressed his lips together tightly to refrain from interrupting again.

"I beg to differ. Your words might be true now, but I've seen it before. Brilliant minds like yours going to waste just because they didn't get the chance to advance their studies at their own pace. You need the burst in speed, all of the staff agreed to that. The only person standing in the way at this point is your mother," Mr. Wellington explained, eyes set sharply on the young man.

Erics' shoulders slumped. He felt conflicted about the whole topic of jumping a grade. On one hand, he would be done with school yet another year earlier, which would be a good thing considering that Alzheimer's was progressing constantly and he would have to invest more and more time into her care. The sooner he was done with school the more time he had in order to take care of her needs. On the other hand, he wasn't sure if he would be able to juggle school and his mothers' care simultaneously with as much ease as he did right now. If he skipped right to junior year with the upcoming school year the change in pace would be significant and he feared that he wouldn't be able to handle school work with a shake of his hand then.

Straightening his back the teenager shook his head against inner turmoil and focused his eyes on the edge of the principal's desk. "Isn't it a little too early to decide if I'm suitable to jump another class? I mean, I'm only nearing the end of freshman year and my classmates aren't really fond of me already. How am I supposed to establish myself when I am not one but two years younger than the rest?" He was fishing for arguments, he knew it, but he didn't have another choice if he wanted to change their minds and safe himself – and his mother – some time.

Besides, it wasn't even much of a lie. Eric really couldn't care less what others thought of him and as things were at the moment, he could easily ignore the degrading comments and strange looks that were thrown his way. With everything else going on in his life he simply didn't have time to assess them properly, anyway. But he couldn't deny the fact that felt uneasy thinking about what would happen if the light hazing turned into full-blown bullying, the verbal attacks turning into physical ones. He was able to fend off hurtful words with a witty comeback, but he couldn't fight back when a fist came flying his way, especially not when it came from someone much bigger than him. He shuddered involuntarily at the thought and hoped it would register with Mr. Wellington and Mrs. Martinez.

"It has crossed our mind that you might be put in disadvantage in this regard, but the staff will be brought to awareness and will be looking out for your well-being all the time," Mrs. Martinez answered.

"Besides, I've seen you hold your own in disagreements with your current fellow students and I'm sure you will be able to in the future as well." Mr. Wellington assured him with a wink.

"If you say so," Eric answered, unconvinced and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. But he also realized that every attempt at getting them to change their minds was futile.

Mrs. Martinez noticed the inner turmoil that displayed on his facial features and leaned forward in her chair, carefully folding her arms on the table and clasping her hands in a casual hold. "Mr. Beale, we didn't want to make you uncomfortable by telling you this, but we had to make you understand the necessity of your mother's presence. As long as she doesn't give her consent we won't be able to follow through with it."

Eric took a deep breath. "My mom's really busy right now. I don't know if she has the time to make room for an appointment. Isn't there a way around a meeting in person? Can't you make an exception and just give me the consent forms and let my mom sign them?" He was desperately grasping for alternatives, fully aware that his mother most likely wouldn't be able to hold her own in a conference with his teachers. She had been getting gradually worse lately, not only with her memory but with her speech and her ability to follow a conversation as well. If he could circumvent a meeting it would be most beneficial to all parties involved, at least in his opinion.

Mrs. Martinez shared an alarmed look with Mr. Wellington and seeing the same expression on said mans' face she returned her attention to the teenager. "Mr. Beale, your mother seems to have been busy a lot lately and you seem very adamant to keep the conference from happening as well. I need to ask you, is everything alright at home?" She was pushing now, her voice inquisitive and stern.

Eric felt cornered. He shifted his eyes nervously between his hands and the table but never raised them to look at the administrator. "Yes, why?" he answered, his voice carrying a barely audible tremor, but he couldn't hide it completely and Mr. Wellington caught the hesitation. The teenager cleared his throat and added, "Everything is alright. Like I said, my mom's just very busy. So is there a way around a meeting?"

Mrs. Martinez sighed and leaned back in her seat. "Unfortunately no, Mr. Beale. We will have to schedule another appointment with her."

Eric hung his head and nodded. "I understand."

Mr. Wellington, who had been observing rather than participating in the conversation for the past minutes, decided to intervene before the administrator ended the discussion and sent Eric on his way to lunch break. He stood up and came to stand next to the teenager so that he could see him. "Eric, if there is something going at home, you have to tell us," he urged, forcefully but still with an underlying kindness.

"There's nothing going on," Eric defied weakly and started fidgeting with his hands again.

The teacher crossed his arms in front of him and shook his head. "Your behavior tells me otherwise. Clearly something is going on. You can tell us, Eric. We might be able to help," he pushed.

"You can't," Eric blurted out but as soon as he said he regretted it deeply, the color left his face and his eyes widened in fear.

"What was that?" the Science teacher asked, interest peaked now.

"Nothing," the teenager tried to backpedal, but it came across unconvincing even to himself. He shrank into himself even further, shoulders hunched and head hung so low that it almost appeared like a snail retreating into its shell.

Unnerved by the course the conversation took Mrs. Martinez felt the need to step in. "Mr. Beale, I don't mean to be blunt about it, but there are no words to sugarcoat my next question: are you being abused? It doesn't have to be the physical kind. Neglect is a form of abuse as well. Or maybe someone is hurting or threatening your mother?"

"No!" Eric exclaimed vehemently, completely taken aback by the assumptions the two adults in the room seemed to jump to.

"Eric, you're a smart young man and I'm certain you know that domestic abuse isn't something to keep quiet about," Wellington reinforced the administrators' argument.

Eric shook his head, a look on his face that was a mix of a bitter half-smile and a deep frown on his forehead. He raised his head and for the first time since the strange discussion had started looked both Mrs. Martinez and Mr. Wellington in the eyes. "There is no abuse." He assured the both of them firmly.

"But something is clearly going on and it seems serious enough for you to think that we can't provide you with help," Mr. Wellington inquired, a hint of frustration seeping through his coolness.

Eric Beale prided himself in the fact that he had become skilled at hiding over the years. He had learned to hide behind smartass remarks and jokes, when his older classmates teased him without mercy. He had learned to hide behind a mask of bravery and strength in order to be solid support for his sister and his mother. And most of all, he had learned to hide his mothers' illness from nosy neighbors and to keep up a façade of a happy family for the outside world. Eric Beale was a master at hiding his feelings and emotions. But he could only hide as long as nobody asked any questions. He was a master at hiding, but he was terrible at telling lies. He had already slipped up by accident earlier and he knew exactly that he wouldn't be able to hide the truth from the two prying adults in the room any longer. It was time to admit defeat.

He blew out a long breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding and with the last huff of air he surrendered. When he spoke he might as well have been mistaken for a computer narrating word for word in a monotonous way and without emotion. He was completely detached from showing any kind of affection.

"My mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's a few years back. She's still in the early stage of the disease, but her short-term memory is already severely altered. She can't hold a thought for long, forgets what she's supposed to do in a matter of minutes, sometimes even seconds. She isn't able to hold a proper conversation, mixes up words or comes up blank. You can make another appointment with her and she will sign the papers to approve you accelerating me, but by the time she does she most likely won't even know what she's consenting to. As much as she still tries to participate in my life, she simply can't, but I don't blame her for that. It's simply what the disease does to her mind."

He stopped, exhaled, closed his eyes, drew in another deep breath. He noticed the mirrored shocked expressions on the two adults' faces. Neither of them moved, just stared at him with wide-opened eyes and slightly parted lips. Eric couldn't care less about catching them off-guard, though, and just picked up the conversation where he left it, voice still void of any emotion.

"I assure you, there is no abuse at home, just a lot of covering for her, so no-one will suspect anything. Either way, it doesn't really matter if it's abuse or not. Knowing about this, you don't have any other choice but to inform Social Services. It means, my sister and I will be taken from her because this is not a safe environment for two kids to grow up in. You don't have to tell me this. I have known and dreaded it for a long time now and that's exactly the reason why I never told anyone about it, at school or anywhere else."

Despite his attempts Eric couldn't keep his cool any longer and his voice crackled near the end. He was exhausted all of a sudden, drained, and he felt like he had just failed his family. The feeling overwhelmed him and he knew he couldn't stay in the office a minute longer. He needed to get out of here. He needed to escape before everything came crashing down on him in a wave. With a sudden burst of energy he pushed back the chair he was sitting in, grabbed his bag and left the room and the remaining occupants in an oppressive silence.

If you want to make me happy, please leave a review.

- S.