The Brothers Geek

     Why do the last five minutes at the end of the school day seem like it never ends, I thought, staring at the clock as the minute-hand slowly clicked towards its ultimate destination.  It was especially bad on Friday, with the promise of the weekend shining brightly in my eyes like the glare from the sun off the Cylon warrior’s silver battle armor.  I always preferred the DVDs of the original Galactica.  I loved Richard Hatch.
    I had finished the assignment in Mr. Fleur’s American History class twenty minutes ago, and the wait was interminable.
    “Nyx,” said Mr. Fleur to me, “I need to see you for a moment after the bell rings.”
    “Yes sir,” I said.  Great, just what I needed, I thought.  
    Hearing Mr. Fleur say my name reminded me how much I hated it.  I mean… Nyx Grimm?  Who would name their son, Nyx?  Only my parents could come up with something so odd.  They didn’t do me any favors, that’s for sure.  I mean, why name someone after a little known Greek goddess of the night?  A shadowy figure who was around at the beginning of creation, and who was a mother to many other Greek gods.  Weird… particularly since I am a boy.  Apparently there were rumors that the goddess Nyx gave birth to herself as a son, also named Nyx.  Reincarnation, you know.  I have no clue what any of that has to do with me.
    Rubbing the sweat from my forehead, I removed my glasses and tried to clear them quickly.  When it would get hot in the school, the lenses would fog, blocking my vision.  It was frustrating, but I couldn’t see much without them, and I just couldn’t handle contact lenses.  Having to use my finger to put something in my eye… just the thought made me squirm in my seat and sent a cold chill down my spine.  It’s irrational… but I couldn’t help it.
    The mellow tones of the dismissal bell throbbed across the intercom system signaling the end of another school week.  The other sophomores in the class stood from the tight, antique, wooden desks and moved rapidly towards the exit, free from the grind and filled with the joy brought on by the weekend.
    I slipped my slight frame from the desk, pressed my trusty laptop to my chest, and slinked toward Mr. Fleur’s desk.  The history teacher’s imposing figure bulged from his chair.  Sitting behind his small, metallic desk, Mr. Fleur seemed to tower over me.  It had only been a few weeks in his class, but I had found him thoroughly intimidating.
    “Yes sir,” I said meekly, not sure what he could want with me.
    “Mr. Grimm,” he said, without looking at me, as I noticed immediately that he hadn’t used my first name now, “you are a good student.  Your class work is exceptional.”
    “Thank you,” I replied, the unexpected compliment a welcome change.
    “You’re pretty quiet in class, but that’s understandable seeing as how you’ve just moved here.”
    “Yes sir,” I said.  My family had moved to Parker’s Point about three weeks prior to the start of school.  This was my father’s hometown, and he had gotten a job here.  We had lived in Chicago before, but Dad never felt comfortable in the larger city, preferring the homey feel of the smaller town.
    “I am the sponsor of the Model UN, and I was wondering if it might be something that you would be interested in joining.”
    Mr. Fleur went on about Model UN for a few minutes, but I did not listen too closely.  All I could think was having to spend more time with him.  That was not something I wanted.  When he finished, I politely lied, saying that I would think about it, and that appeared to appease him.  I turned and beat it to the exit faster than the Flash… Barry Allen, not Wally West.