Chapter 2: The School before Dystopia

In the short life I've lived, I've found that many books and magazines tend to play up schools like they're the best phase of your life. The learning, drama of day to day social life, and the once in a life time romances that bloom out of nowhere are the staples, though other than the learning bit, nothing really stands out to me. Every day is filled with columns upon columns of children packed in narrow hallways, stuffy classrooms, and noisy lunch halls. But all that pales in comparison to the classes themselves. But again, that's probably just me.

It feels like class is taking way longer to get through today. If it's not from the sheer lack of interest in the topic, then it's probably from the fidgeting of my classmates that hem me in on all sides. To my right is Hector, a kid around a year older than me. He was held back a grade. No surprise there. When he isn't daydreaming during class, he's playing a new game on his tablet. If there's a time where he's seriously studied or listened properly in class, then I'll go ask my sister to get married, and get hammered with another week's worth of homemade printouts again.

Behind me is Julie, the studious girl. She's often picked on by the other boys in my class for her oversized glasses and large splotches of freckles, but I've never understood the reason why, they never bothered me. She doesn't say much or volunteer to answer questions, but she's consistently gotten in the top three grades of the year. Impressive, to say the least, but thanks to my sister's relentless oversight, she's fated to remain either in close second or third place, right behind me.

Connor is to my left. He's been my friend for about as long as I can remember. Though we have been friends since kindergarten, we didn't always see eye to eye, since he always kept taking the best toys for himself, and never shared them with me or anyone else. Though I guess he grew out of that quickly enough, and now we don't have much to argue about. When he isn't sporting a fresh buzz cut for the baseball season, he lets his blonde hair grow out into flowing locks. He would be popular if it weren't for his precocious knack for creeping out the girls in class with weird grins and gestures. I can only assume it's his own form of entertainment.

And finally, the one in front of me. That would be no one, since my luck always places me at the front of the class. In all the years I've attended elementary school, I've never gotten a seat behind the front row, and I can only assume that's going to be true for all of middle school too. Consequently, I'm the victim of nearly every question from the teacher, which, of course, doesn't alleviate any pressure whatsoever.

"Marcus, did you hear me?"

"Yes Mr. Blake?"

"I asked you, what is the formal name for the numbers used for counting?"

Sigh. Since my luck placed me in the front row of every class in every year I've been in elementary school, it simultaneously placed me within direct firing range of Mr. Blake's ire during math class. He's been hounding my sister ever since they met at my enrollment meeting years ago. Her final rejection last Christmas only made him desire utter destruction upon her half-brother, me. Every time a difficult question came up, he would, more often than not, ask me.

"The natural numbers?"

I replied hesitantly.

"Correct."

It seems his attacks have less effort put behind them recently. Maybe it's because they've backfired too many times for him to enjoy it anymore. He turned back to the projector screen on the wall and continued to the next section of the lecture.

"Isn't it weird that he always asks you questions?"

Connor's whisper barely reached me over Mr. Blake's loud voice. I just shrugged; no need for him to know. He would only tell his parents about it, and that would only cause more trouble for me later on. Everything is fine as it is.

"The natural numbers are the numbers from one and up. So, if you start at one, and keep counting forever, you'll wind up at what we call infinity. These numbers are called the natural numbers because they are what's natural to count with. They do not include zero, because zero is classified as a whole number, and not a natural number."

Mr. Blake tapped the projector screen with the back of his hand before turning to me once again, smirking.

"If that's so, Marcus, then what are the whole numbers from negative infinity to infinity called?"

Hmm, let's see, the natural numbers are from one to infinity, and the whole numbers are from zero to infinity. The only other kind of numbers that would include negative and positive numbers would be rational numbers and...

"Integers?"

He froze for a moment, before responding.

"Correct again."

His smirk melted into a grimace. As if to hide it, he quickly turned his face away. Sometimes I wondered who was the child in these interactions I have with him. I'm glad most of the other kids haven't noticed the enmity between us, it would just make things awkward.

"Ahem, let's continue to the next section..."

-

The trip back home from school is rather short, as our apartment is less than a dozen or so blocks away. I've never had to use a bus because of it, so I got to know a number of the store owners and daily commuters by walking back and forth. At first, my sister's friends ridiculed her for allowing a ten-year-old to walk home from school by himself, but she would brush it off with a sharp retort.

"He takes after me, even though he's not mine. He has enough common sense hammered into him to not fall for the candy men."

Though despite that concern, I've never really encountered anyone of the sort, at least not yet. Not that I have anything planned, other than walk the other way. What is an eleven year old supposed to do against an adult who's set on abducting him? In lack of a better mode of transportation, nothing. It would mean my sister would have to have to quit her current job to be my personal escort, and that's never going to happen.

"Marcus my boy, how was school today?"

The voice came from Mr. Candors, the drugstore clerk. It must have been his lunch hour because he was sitting on one of the outdoor tables of a nearby diner.

"About the same as ever, Mr. Candors."

"Tell your sister her order came in today. She hasn't come by to pick it up yet, thought she didn't get the message on her phone."

"I'll tell her."

Mr. Candors is one of the few men that my sister has come to acknowledge. He's a widower with a single child who works at the town drugstore. Though he's been friendly with my sister for a while, nothing has really come of it, much to my disappointment. He's a nice man who in my toddler years would often drive me home from kindergarten in my sister's stead, and would give me one of the sour candies they had on the front desk of the drugstore. I suppose he's the sole reason why I have a sweet tooth, and the many cavities I had in my baby teeth.

"Is that useless son of mine still not paying attention in school?"

He meant Hector.

"He did a little today, I think..."

I really can't defend him, can I?

"Think you can try tutoring him some? I can't do a thing with him. Even if I take away his games, he doesn't do any better."

"I can try, though he's doesn't like me too much."

"The thought is what matters, Marcus. The thought is what matters..."

He leaned back in his seat and took a long swig from a cup of coffee that rested on the table.

"Off you go, give your sister my respects and all that."