Unsurprising Results

Brains had just left for his lab when Jeff's phone rang again. He smiled; the caller ID told him that his son was calling in. He answered, swiveling around in his chair to face the screen of his desk phone.

"Hey, Alan!"

"Hey, Dad!" Alan's picture was bobbing up and down again, and Jeff gave silent thanks that he didn't get motion sick. "Got a question to ask."

"Shoot," Jeff replied.

"Can you let me go shopping with my friend Qaeshon and his brother tomorrow?" Alan stopped packing up his books to face his father directly. "Qaeshon's brother's name is Xavion; he's captain of the track team, a senior, and he's got a car of his own."

"Why do you need to go shopping?" Jeff asked. I didn't want him running off campus for soda pop so I set up that account with the grocery...

"I need new shoes for track," Alan explained. "My current athletic shoes are waterlogged from our morning runs and the rain we had the other day. I really need some new ones, especially cleats for the jumps."

"Ah, I see," Jeff said, nodding. He picked up a data pad. "Does this friend of yours have a clean driving record?"

Alan shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose so. I don't think his father would let him have a car if he didn't."

"What was his name again?"

"Xavion Lewis. X-A-V-I-O-N L-E-W-I-S."

"Okay," Jeff noted the name and the spelling. "Do you need me to email a permission?"

"Yeah, Dad, I do." Alan went back to packing. "I know it's after business hours here, but I think that there may still be people in the office. They're supposed to be calling the parents about... well, about something that happened last night."

"I know about it, Alan. I heard about it first from John, who caught it on the news, and then from the school." Jeff leaned back and tapped his stylus on his chin. "In fact, I wanted to talk to you about it."

Alan stopped again, and sat down at his desk. "Okay. I'm listening."

"I'm not sure how to approach this, son," Jeff began. "As your father, my knee-jerk reaction is to fly out there and pull you from the school – set up that home schooling you kept going on about. But somehow, this year has been different. You've got track, and your friends, and I don't want to just yank you from Wharton if you don't want to be yanked." He paused for a moment. "You've impressed a few people, myself included, and I feel you can assess the situation better than I can just because you're there. In other words, I want your opinion on whether or not you want to stay."

Alan colored a little at his father's praise. He paused to gather his thoughts for a moment, then nodded. "I do want to stay, Dad. Like you said, I've got things to look forward to this year. Cool things that I've never had before. And I can handle myself, Dad. This summer taught me a lot." He sighed. "I'll admit that what's going on here with these three attacks..."

"Three attacks?" Jeff interrupted suddenly, frowning. "I thought there were only two."

"No, Dad," Alan said, shaking his head. He glanced around, and dropped his vocal level. "You know about the first one; my friend Qaeshon was roughed up. Fermat broke it up and we used our watches. The second one happened to my new roommate, Dom. He wasn't hurt, but it triggered an asthma attack and he went to the hospital for that." Alan stopped to think again, then added, "He thinks his parents will be up here to take him out of school, too. I kinda hope not; I was looking forward to getting to know him. He's not in my circle of friends and I think I need to meet new people. Though I wouldn't mind having a room to myself either."

"So this latest is the third attack?"

"Yeah." Alan unconsciously mimicked his father's pose, tapping a pen on his desk instead of his chin. "And it doesn't make any sense, either. Qaeshon and Dom were told by the goons that they should go out for sports and not do the things they do, y'know... playing music or working on the yearbook. But Erik..."

"Erik?"

Alan suddenly shifted position, uncomfortable that he'd told his father something that had been told to him in confidence. "Yeah. That's who got beat up this time, Dad, but don't tell anyone I said so. I shouldn't have opened my mouth to you, either." He blew out a frustrated breath. "In any case, the kid that got beat up – Erik - is on the track team. He runs cross country with me. I was just getting to know him when this happened."

"Do the authorities have any idea why this happened?" Jeff asked, still frowning.

"None that I've heard," Alan replied, shaking his head. His eyebrows went up as a thought occurred to him. "I could ask, though. Zave, Kay and I could visit Erik tomorrow if he's still in the hospital."

"Are Zave and Kay nicknames for your friends Xavion and Qaeshon?" Jeff asked, his face taking on a bemused look. He put down the data pad, picked up his PDA, and began using his stylus on the tiny screen.

"Oh, uh, yeah. They are. Sorry, Dad, I should have explained that." Alan sounded sheepish. He paused then reiterated his question. "So, can I go?"

"I'm sending the permission as we speak, Alan," Jeff told him. "But it's just for tomorrow. I'll think about making it a more permanent arrangement once I've had Penelope do some digging into Xavion's family... and his driving record."

"All right!" Alan shouted, grinning. "Thanks, Dad!"

"You're welcome, son. Are you still on for moving tomorrow?"

Alan nodded. "If I can stay..."

"I think for now we'll leave things as they are," Jeff said. He shook a finger in his son's direction. "But I'm going to keep an eye on the situation. If there are any more attacks, I may reconsider and pull you out." He sat back, putting his PDA down on the desk. "I expect you to stay out of trouble, and do what you can to help Fermat keep out of it, too."

The teen's face brightened. "Does that mean Fermat's going to stay, too?"

Jeff shook his head. "Truthfully, I don't know, Alan. Brains wants to talk with Fermat first, just as I have with you, and then he'll decide. If he thinks it would be better for Fermat to come home, then we'll make arrangements that way - even if it means you stay at Wharton and he leaves." He folded his hands loosely in his lap. "Would that make you change your mind about staying?"

Alan shrugged. "I dunno, maybe. Things wouldn't be the same around here without Fermat, that's for sure. And if you want my opinion, I think Fermat would want to stay. But that's just my opinion."

"I guess we'll have to wait and see what Brains and Fermat decide on," Jeff said. He looked at his watch. "Don't you have to get to dinner soon?"

"Yeah, I do. I can come back and pack up my stuff later." Alan glanced around the room. "Can't say I'll miss this place. The tension's been thick enough to cut with a knife."

"I already know what room you'll be in. Mrs. Belvedere's office sent me an email about it and asked for my approval."

"They did? I didn't know that there had to be parental approval, too." Alan's confusion was plain.

Jeff chuckled. "Yes, Alan. Even little things like dorm room changes have to have parental approval at Wharton. Normally, I wouldn't have allowed it; I didn't allow Gordon to room with his friends when he was there. And I was rather looking forward to chewing out a few board members at the meeting next month and have you living with Fermat again. In fact, I may still show up and express my displeasure with the way they've handled this whole campus security issue. But with the trouble you've been having... well, I didn't think you needed the extra pressure or distraction. Add to that your thoughts on Fermat and his roommate, and I really couldn't do anything else."

"Huh." Alan stopped to think about that for a moment. "Why didn't you let Gordon room with his friends?"

His father took the stylus in the fingers of both hands and twirled it, studiously watching as he did so. "That's something you should ask Gordon about."

Alan was quiet for a moment, then he nodded. "Gordon, huh? Okay, Dad. I'll email and ask him. Or better yet, I'll call later. But don't tell him I'm going to. I want to see his expression." He glanced at his computer clock. "I'd better go. I can hardly wait until Fermat calls; today was his first quizzing meet."

Jeff smiled. "I hope he does well."

"He will, Dad," Alan said confidently. "Well, I'm off to dinner. Talk you later, Dad."

"Later, Alan," Jeff replied. He paused, then added, "Love you, son."

"Love you, too," Alan responded. "Bye!"

"Bye."

Alan closed the connection and sighed lightly, a contented sound. Then he sprang from his chair, quickly grabbed his jacket, and headed out to the dining hall. At the last minute, he grabbed his phone, and stuck it in his pocket. Just in case Fermat calls.

"A-Another piece of pepperoni p-pizza, please," Fermat called, holding out his plate. Tom grinned, and served up another slice.

"I still can't believe you answered that question about the pizza theorem, Fermat," Timothy said, shaking his head.

"Yeah, you're to blame for us coming here to eat, Hackenbacker," Will added with a laugh. "After that question, this was all we could think about!"

The group laughed, and continued talking about the match, until Devdan cleared his throat noisily.

"Does everyone have their cups full?" he asked, glancing around. When he saw that all the cups were full, or at least half full, he stood with his glass of water in his hand. "I propose a toast, gentlemen. To Wharton Academy's academic quizzing team and our victorious first match!"

Calls of "Hear, hear!" and "To us!" sounded out among a general laughter and the clapping together of the plastic cups. Even Robbie, looking a little peaked, joined in. He had ended up sitting out this first match due to a case of unexpected nausea brought on by motion sickness.

"Don't worry, Robert," Mr. Feng had said at the time. "You'll get a chance at our next meet. It's a home game."

Now the talk around the table turned from mutual admiration and dissection of the meet itself to the big question of the day: the attacks at Wharton. Fermat was particularly singled out for questions as he had been involved, however slightly, in the first one.

"I'd heard that you broke your arm defending your friend," Wei Noh said.

Fermat shook his head. "N-No, nothing so h-h-h... valorous, I'm a-afraid. I broke my a-arm falling out of b-bed."

"But you did put the miscreants to flight, didn't you?" Atif asked.

"I s-suppose I was a f-factor," Fermat replied, shrugging. "Though I was u-under the impression that they were f-f-f... done with Qaeshon by th-that point."

"I wonder who was beat up," Robbie said, taking a sip of his cola.

"I wish they would tell us," Will said. "Who knows? It might be of some use."

"You haven't been told because the victim is a minor, like yourselves, and the police have procedures dealing with minors and parental notification," Mr. Feng explained. "The only reason you know about young Mr. Lewis is that our Mr. Hackenbacker was involved. Otherwise, you would not have that information either."

"Do any of you think your families will come and pull you out of school?" Mikal asked, looking around.

That question quieted them all down and they looked at one another, trying to imagine a team without one of the boys sitting around them. We haven't been a team for long, Fermat thought, But even so, we are a team. I can't imagine having a meet and missing one or more of our members.

"I do not think my parents would remove me," Devdan said calmly. "I am a senior, in the final year of my schooling. It would be counter-productive for them to require me to come home."

"I'm the same way," Will said. "My folks have put a lot of hard-earned money into my education here; they'll want to see me graduate."

"I expect my mother to fly over at the earliest opportunity," Atif said. He sighed a little. "She is very impressed with Wharton, of course, but it is still early in the year. I am sure she would move me to another school."

One by one, the boys talked about their families' possible or probable reactions. Finally, it came down to Fermat.

"You're the youngest of us, Fermat," Joseph said. "What do you think your parents will do?"

"It's j-just me and my d-dad," Fermat explained. "But knowing h-him, I th-think we'll t-talk about it before h-he makes a decision. It may a-also hinge on what m-my father's e-employer does about his s-son." He glanced around at the others. "I kn-know I want to s-stay."

"Well, then," Mr. Feng said, taking a last gulp of his drink. "We should get you all home so you can talk to your parents for yourselves. Let's go, gentlemen."

The group finished their last bites of food, and emptied their glasses, while a couple of the boys used the toilet. They settled themselves into the same seats they had before, except for Robbie, who changed places with Devdan for the ride home.

"Sittin' up front is easier on mah stomach," he had explained. Dev understood.

Their stomachs filled and their taste for conversation sated, several of the team members fell asleep as they trekked home. But Fermat pulled out his satellite phone. He had a couple of important calls to make.