Unsociableness

Monday morning saw the first light frost on the grass at Wharton. It chilled Alan's feet as he ran with the team, then dissolved into a cold, heavy dew as soon as the sun rose. Fermat caught only glimpses of it in the deep shadows cast by some of the dorms as he and A.J. walked first to the infirmary, then to the dining hall.

The dining room was less noisy than usual, and as Fermat looked around, he noticed a reduced number of students. "I d-didn't realize so many had l-left," he said to Qaeshon.

His friend shrugged. "You've got to remember that the track and soccer teams aren't here," he said. "The difference shouldn't be as noticeable at lunch."

Fermat nodded. "Y-You're probably r-r-r... correct."

When it came time to go, Qaeshon offered to take Fermat's tray. Fermat was gratified by the suggestion, and he walked over to the exit to wait for A.J., Qaeshon, and Jason. When the trio approached him, he noticed that they were in earnest conversation, and that Qaeshon kept looking over his shoulder.

"I tell you, there's something weird about that guy!" the sophomore exclaimed, shaking his head vehemently.

"Nothing's changed, Kay. That guy's always been weird," Jason countered.

"That's not what I mean, Jase," Qaeshon went on. "It's... it's... somewhere in the back of my brain. Something about him is familiar, but I can't put my finger on just what. And I think it's important." He shook his head again, his dreadlocks swinging back and forth. "I wish I could figure it out."

"Well, stop thinking about it," A.J. suggested. "When you don't think about it, then the answer sometimes will just... pop up!"

Qaeshon sighed and put his hand on A.J.'s shoulder. "I don't know if I can, A.J. But thanks for the idea, anyway."

The frost may have melted on the grounds of Wharton, but it had not thawed even a little between Fermat and Alan. Fermat was coolly polite to his friend, and Alan, after feeling the first chill, responded in kind. So when they went to lunch, and deliberately sat at opposite ends of the table from each other, it was noticed.

Jason looked from one to the other, then back again, then once more before asking, "Okay, what's wrong with you two?"

In unison, Alan growled and Fermat huffed, "Nothing!" before exchanging glares.

Jason rolled his eyes and shook his head. Qaeshon snorted, and said, "Ohhhkay!" A.J. glanced from Jason to Qaeshon and back, while Xavion just ate his lunch and ignored the whole exchange.

A.J. leaned over and murmured to Qaeshon, "What can we do about this?"

Qaeshon replied, just as quietly, "Nothing. Just let them work it out. If they don't within a day or so, then we knock heads together."

"Oh." A.J. shot a concerned look at his roommate. "Okay."

"And don't let them get you into the middle of it, either," Qaeshon added, now speaking loud enough to be heard, and giving Fermat both a sharp look and a lifted eyebrow.

"I won't."

Quiet descended on the group, until Jason asked, "Hey, Kay! Did you ever figure out what was bugging you about Pierce this morning?"

As Qaeshon shook his head, Xavion perked up and asked, "Pierce? Is that loser bugging you, Kay?"

Kay's face screwed up into a pained expression. "Nah, he's not really bugging me. Just something about him is. I don't know what, though, and it's driving me crazy! Somehow I think it's important." He shook his head again, more energetically this time. "Man, I wish I could remember!"

"Like A.J. said, leave it be," Jason reminded him. "It'll come along on its own."

A burst of loud laughter elsewhere in the room startled the group and brought their attention to the source: Lee's table. The boys watched for a moment, then turned back to their own company.

"Any news on Ralph?" Alan asked. "Is he moving in with Sugi?"

Jason shrugged. "I'm still not sure. He hasn't said one way or the other. I think he's stalling."

"Sugi w-won't like that," Fermat commented.

"I know." Jason finished off his drink, making an involuntary "ah!" as he did. "It's like he's between a rock and a hard place."

The others made commiserating noises, as one after another, they finished eating. A.J. offered to take Fermat's tray for him today, but the older boy said he'd do it himself. "If Pierce is on duty, I w-want to see him. Maybe another p-pair of eyes can figure out wh-what's gotten Kay so hot and bothered."

He got into line behind Xavion, peering out from behind the tall senior, who glanced down at him irritably once. There wasn't anything odd that Fermat could actually see about the kitchen worker, who laughed with one of the older students, but there was something... Fermat shook his head. Great! Now I'll be thinking about this all day! He delivered his tray quickly. Pierce said nothing, just abruptly took it. The glowering form of Xavion, who was waiting for his brother, seemed to keep him from his normal jeering. Qaeshon stepped up after Fermat did, and within a few moments, almost the whole group was waiting in the foyer. Everyone except Alan, who had already stalked off to his next class.

"Oh, God, it's so good to be home," John moaned as he came to the breakfast table. "Though I could do without the birds serenading the dawn... or the pre-dawn, or whatever it is. They get kind of loud out there."

"I don't notice them," Scott said, grinning. His grin got wider as Virgil stumbled to the table. "Virge doesn't either."

Virgil blinked owlishly as he dropped into a chair. "Don' wha?" he mumbled.

"Hear the birds," John supplied helpfully. He glanced up and smiled at Onaha, who set the orange juice pitcher in front of him. "Thanks, Onaha."

"Or your alarm clock," Scott added, giving Virgil a little poke in the arm. "It must have gone off five or six times this morning."

"Hmph," was all that Virgil could say in reply.

Jeff came in, his data pad tucked under his arm, followed by Brains, who was trying to stick his finger in the thick collar again. "Good morning, boys," Jeff said.

Brains echoed the greeting. "G-Good morning."

"Good morning, Dad, Brains. " "Mornin', Dad. Mornin', Brains." "Mmmf."

"I see that Virgil's been up late again," Jeff remarked as he put his pad down by his plate. "What was it this time? Painting or composing?"

Virgil took a long swig of orange juice and grimaced, his eyes closing, then opening fully. "Painting," he finally said. "Moonlight on the ocean."

"Ah, I see... or I hope I'll see when it's finished."

"Sure, Dad."

Jeff kept his eyes on his data pad as he ate his vegetable omelet, and finally John piped up to ask, "What's so fascinating, Dad?"

"What's so fascinating?" Jeff repeated. "I took Gordon's little tip from yesterday and had my people in New York do some digging. Turns out that Daniel Sugimoto has three sons and a daughter. The youngest of the sons, and of the children as a whole, is Lee. And yes, he's the one at Wharton."

"Do you think that Lee's giving Alan grief because of what happened with his father?" Scott asked, frowning.

"Uh, just what are you guys talking about?" Virgil asked. Jeff explained to him about the discovery of the new camera technology, the connection with Dr. Sugimoto, and now, the further connection with Alan through the youngest Sugimoto child. When Jeff was finished, Virgil frowned. "His reaction doesn't make any sense to me, Dad. I mean, what do we have to do with this? Why would this Lee kid be picking on Alan?"

"Virgil's right, Dad," John added. "It's not like any of the firms testing this technology are subsidiaries of ours."

"Lee m-might not kn-know that," Brains offered.

"True," John admitted. "Or he just might see Alan as... well, as son of the rich and famous Jeff Tracy."

A sly smile crossed his face as he went on. "Instead of brother to the handsome and famous author, John G. Tracy."

"If it's a competition between 'rich' and 'handsome', John," Jeff riposted, grinning, "I'll take 'rich' any day."

"Oooh!" Scott said with a smirk.

"Where does 'famous' fall in all of this?" Virgil asked, amused.

"Beautiful people are a dime a dozen... rich ones get noticed," Jeff replied smugly.

"And s-smart ones have the l-last word," Brains said. He took his last bite, popped in a pain pill, and swigged down his juice. "See y-ya," he added as he rose from the table.

"Where are you going?" Jeff asked, startled.

"To ch-check my e-mail," Brains called with a grin, turning around since he couldn't turn his head. He walked backwards, and stumbled a little, arms flailing. Jeff winced. John held his breath momentarily, while Scott looked away and Virgil closed his eyes. But the expected fall didn't come; Brains caught himself, gave his skinny shoulders a good shake, then turned and sauntered away.

"Be more careful!" Onaha, who had just entered the room, exclaimed at his retreating back. He put two fingers to his temple and snapped a quick salute before disappearing completely.

Jeff shook his head. "Thought for sure we had another visit from the doctor coming."

"What's got him so excited about his email?" Virgil asked.

He glanced at his father, who shrugged. "I have no idea. But as long as it keeps him from doing any heavy work..." He shrugged again and went back to his coffee.

Alan headed out to stretch and warm up with the rest of the team. The day had turned pleasant, sunny and bright, and he almost wished he'd worn shorts instead of sweats. When Xavion had finished putting the team through their preparatory paces, Coach Evans called a few of the boys over by name, including Alan.

He looked first at the five boys he'd called, then his team, so much smaller than the last time they'd practiced, and even smaller than the morning run. He shook his grizzled head, and sighed inaudibly.

"As you've probably all noticed, we're down quite a few from our last practice. Some of our members have been pulled from school. As a result, you five have had some changes in your positions. Adams? You're now on the 4 by 400 meter relay in addition to the 4 by 100. Carter, the 300 meter hurdles. Jameson, I've added you to the cross country squad. Tracy, you're primary on javelin, and Estevez will be your back up."

"Uh, excuse me, Coach," Alan stammered, "but, uh, according to Steve Ulrich, I had a lot to learn. Who's going to teach me..." he glanced at his teammate, Julio Estevez, "I mean, us?"

"I will," Coach replied. "Now Adams, Carter and Jameson, report to Lewis. Tracy, you and Estevez come with me."

The javelin practice went much smoother than before, and Alan found that though Coach Evans was just as tough as Steve, he was also fair and more likely to praise than to put down. So by the end of the session, Alan felt far more comfortable with the idea of throwing javelin than he had before. Then Julio went off to work on his shot put with Coach Beccara, while Alan practiced his long jump and high jump skills under Xavion's watchful eye. When the entire practice was over, he and the senior walked back to the gym together.

"So, where's Steve?" Alan asked bluntly, his voice quiet.

"He's not on the team anymore and that's all you need to know," Zave replied, scowling.

"Did he get pulled from school?"

Zave abruptly stopped, and Alan overshot him, then backtracked the few steps to meet up with the team captain. "Look, Pinky. It's really none of your business what happened to Steve, okay? The only ones who know are the ones that need to know, and that's not you."

Alan shrugged, spreading out his hands. "Okay, okay. Just curious, that's all." Zave started walking again, and Alan fell into step with him once more. "I'm not going to find out anything if I don't at least ask." Chuckling, he added, "And Fermat's dad says there are no stupid questions."

"That might be true," Zave replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "But there are nosy ones, and tactless ones. I think those are pretty stupid, myself."

The blunt response took Alan aback, and he slowed, frowning. Zave kept going, without even a backwards look.

Brains leaned back in his chair, trying to put his hands behind his head and feeling a definite twinge in his neck. He switched position to lean forward and put his chin on his hand, which produced the same feeling, only from a different quarter. Sighing, he sat back, and folded his arms. Despite his discomfort, he was satisfied. He had managed, through an acquaintance of his, to get some idea of just how this new photographic technology worked. I'll probably need more details, but this gives me a place to start.

Instead of moving closer to his computer to begin his work, he instead printed out the information he had been sent. Then he chose an old fashioned pencil and a wide pad of blank sheets. If I take this down by the pool, it won't look so much like I'm working... and that will keep Jeff off my back. He stood, squashing the desire to shake his head. He means well, but my mind won't let me rest. So, off to the great outdoors, some sun, and some serious thinking.

With that, he tucked the pencil into his pocket, and the pad under his arm, striding out to "rest" as per his employer's instructions.

At dinner, the icy silence between Alan and Fermat had not thawed a whit. The other boys ignored it, drawing both of them into different conversations, but never the same ones. They knew from past experience that trying to bring the two together before they were ready to hash out their differences would just prolong the antagonism.

Dinner was almost done when Mr. Culp came into the room and made a beeline for Alan and his friends. Conversation ceased, not only at their table, but at all the surrounding ones as the students wanted to know just who was in trouble, and why.

"Alan Tracy?"

"Uh, you want me, Mr. Culp?" Alan's eyes grew wide and he pointed a finger at himself, a questioning look on his face. He wracked his brain, trying to think of what he could have possibly done to get in trouble this time.

"Mr. Magnuson would like to ask you a couple of questions," Mr. Culp explained. He glanced around at the shell-shocked looks Alan's friends gave him and the almost predatory ones on the nearby students, then smiled. "Don't worry; you're not in any trouble."

Alan relaxed with an audible puff of breath, then smiled sheepishly. His friends were also visibly relieved, and their all-too-interested fellow students turned back to their meals, though a few kept a listening ear out to hear what they might.

"I'll take your tray, Alan," Jason offered as Alan bolted the last of his cake, and washed it down with a final gulp of milk.

"Thanks, Jase," Alan replied. He rose, wiping his mouth, and followed Mr. Culp from the hall.

"What do you think that's all about?" Qaeshon asked. Fermat merely shrugged and went back to his meal.

Mr. Culp guided Alan to the security office, a place that Alan knew entirely too well. They walked back to Mr. Magnuson's office, where the security chief sat behind his desk. Mrs. Belvedere was also present, sitting in one of the hard chairs, and next to her sat an older Asian man. Alan recognized him from a few of the pictures that Sugi had put on his desk.

"Come in, Alan," Mr. Mags said. He gestured towards the Asian man. "Alan, this is Dr. Sugimoto, Lee's father. Dr. Sugimoto, Alan Tracy."

"Hello, sir," Alan said politely, shaking the older man's hand. Dr. Sugimoto returned the greeting and the handshake, then Mr. Magnuson indicated that Alan should sit.

"The reason we asked you here is that you were Lee's most recent roommate," the security chief said. "We wanted to ask you a few questions about Lee, see if you remembered something that could help us."

Alan glanced from Mr. Magnuson to Mrs. Belvedere to Dr. Sugimoto. "I'm glad to help if I can, but... why?"

"Because, Alan," Mrs. Belvedere said quietly. "Lee Sugimoto has disappeared."