Zach tried to stop thinking about it but couldn’t. How he found himself in this situation is beyond him. And yet here he was.
“And here I thought you to be a fellow scholar of the classics, Zacharias!” Bishop Hillington bellowed heartily over the din of their neat little alcove, one of many built into the recesses of the halls of Mercer and Mesney Academy. The big boy's voice carried on like an implosion of thunder in the acoustics of the alcove and would have sent a stranger protecting their eardrums.
Not Zach though. He merely looked on uninterested and stoic. He had the compulsion to take a deep breath and let out a sigh of exasperation, a habit his Mama Harriet had advised him not to do, as it was in pleasant company, quite rude.
“We’ve already had this conversation before Hill, I have nothing against the classics. It’s just not my cup of tea,” He replied evenly. There were seven others in the alcove, he knew them all by name and reputation only and that was the extent of it. He was only ever here because Priscilla Kahler and Bishop Hillington swiped him from his regular study sessions in the library. Bishop wanted another lengthy discussion about Classical Greek Philosophy to pass the free afternoon he had whilst Priscilla (by Zach's reckoning alone) had a more ulterior motive.
"Oh come now, perhaps I could still sway you with another reading from either Herodotus or Thucydides? It's a dire endeavor with only a single mind to pursue this, it's best to have another intellectual mind to ricochet thoughts with yes? What say you, Zacharias?" The bigger boy inquired in that jovial manner of his.
Only Uncle and Harriet called him Zacharias. For everyone else, it has to be Zach. It just felt right. But try as he might, he had already wasted a month's worth of breath on reiterating that to Bishop Hillington. The big boy had that unmistakable cheer that made him akin to a living firework, drawing everyone’s attention at any gathering. Zach still isn’t sure whether he was doing it on purpose or not.
“Stop pestering Zach, Bishop,” Priscilla Kahler demanded. There were no formal tables in the alcoves, only benches made for sitting. Zach is put at ease that Priscilla makes an effort at the very least. But like all things in life in Mercer and Mesny, tit for tat. “Now, show me how to solve for the G again please,” Priscilla smelled of berries, the kind that made Zach's throat run dry and his stomach into backflips. She leaned a mite bit too close for Zach's liking, giving him more than just a handful of her sweet perfume and a-bit-too generous peek at the contents of her loose blouse, which resulted in Zach's laser focus on the problem she shoved on his lap and not the one below her neckline.
Let G be a group, and let a,b be elements of G. Prove that if a² =b², then (ab)²= e, where e is the identity element of G.
"Abstract Algebra? Didn’t I already tutored you this last week?" And by tutor, he meant answering her homework for her. All three of them. But he kept his mouth shut. Priscilla had then treated the whole lot of them to a luncheon at one of the city's premier restaurants as if it were a mere outing. Zach almost choked when he caught a passing glimpse of the bill afterward. Priscilla didn't even so much as bat an eyelash at the number and merely plopped her platinum card at the maître's gloved hand.
Zach resolved to let Priscilla solve this one. He had spent the last few days tutoring her (as in proper tutor her and not score brownie points to get invited to the next soiree) so she could at least have some real sense of the module when the hammer finally dropped.
And by "hammer", he meant the Preliminary Examinations in three weeks' time.
Zach looked into Priscilla's ocean-blue eyes with deadpan stoicism, resolute in his stance to let the young heiress solve this one out for herself.
Priscilla, however, only smiled that million-watt smile of hers that almost lit up the shaded alcove itself. He knew she knew what he was trying to get at. And she knew that he knew that she always got what she wanted with a smile.
Neither broke gaze. The one to break first loses.
Without breaking her gaze, she craned her neck this way and that as if to crack the joints, all the while her eyes remained steadfast on him like a cat. The movement made her blouse heave and stretch and Zach could've sworn he caught a glimpse of her undershirt and something much more- -
"Shit!" Zach swore, realizing he had broken his concentration.
Her lips spread into a lurid feline smile. She crossed her legs, the length of her plaid skirt almost challenging as what was prescribed in the school regulations handbook. Her posture was that of a self-satisfied victory, chest high and proud with a fitting smirk to boot.
Zach grumbly took her paper and answered the problems. Twenty minutes later Priscilla joined the general hubbub of the small gathering of their collective friends inside the alcove. Plans were drawn up where they would get a few bites and maybe a few drinks. Zach was of course invited. He helped a lot of them with their homework, especially the core members that held this circle of friends together.
Notably Big Bishop Hillington and cunning Priscilla Kahler.
It was all too tempting to join them up. He already had on prior occasions. Zach feels he had an in with them.
Then what?
As fun as they were to be with, there was that look in their eye. Zacharias made no secret of his background. Notably, he isn't rich. How they spend their time and hobbies tends to drain one's wallet to someone of Zach's background at an exponential rate.
Not to mention, it was an assumed habit among their little group of friends, but they kept an unspoken tally of who paid for dinner or lunch at any particular instance and it was considered good form for those who have not yet paid or an acceptable amount of time had lapsed for the next one to catch the tab. Zach had been with them four times now, watching them laugh and joke around and taking notes of the words that were left unsaid by the smallest action to the biggest gesture, a habit his uncle had taught him.
Should this go on, he'd be that one friend who always has to be bailed out. The one "friend" who pretends he comes from the same background as they are, with a financially stable family and a quite generous allowance to support this decadent lifestyle but in truth was just siphoning off handouts from his richer companions like some sort parasyte.
He refuses to be "that" guy.
So when the time did come, as he predicted, he had already had an excuse made up. He put on his best face, the one his Mama Harriet said that doesn't put people off as Zach was prone to wear his heart on his sleeve, and his heart was usually filled with stormclouds ready to fall and ruin everyone's day. He softened his voice as best as he could and hoped to come off cheery but resolute.
Priscilla's smile disappeared and was replaced with something akin to cold betrayal, as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing.
Bishop was more understanding, though he tried to convince Zach to go with them and put off his other schoolwork for the time being.
They looked at him with incredulity at first (who would pass up a free meal at a high-dining restaurant?).
And then with understanding ( A shy and lanky academian, more in company with books than with people, is what they would say and write it off as one of his personality quirks. A useful guy to know and be acquainted with if you are in a pinch)
He said his goodbyes politely before ducking out of the alcove altogether. He tried not to look back or wonder what they might think of him. Such trains of thought were a complete waste and didn't matter in a logical viewpoint.
But tt didn't hurt any less though, try as he might.
