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....
Monday, September 30, 2002. 7:15 AM
Alan Harper, CEO of Harper Family LLC, sat at the kitchen table meticulously cutting a coupon for fifty cents off generic fabric softener.
"I should be driven my BMW" Alan muttered to no one in particular, his scissors scraping against the Formica table.
Jake, sitting at the kitchen island, didn't look up from his bowl of cereal.
"You will dad, remember patience is bitter, but its fruit is sweet."
"Who said that" asked Alan
"Is atributted to Aristotle" Answered Jake
"Yeah, well, i dont think he had a BMW so go figure."
Seeing that talking to his father was dead end, Jake zipped his new blue backpack that had replaced the Ninja Turtles backpack.
By 8:10 AM, Jake had arrived at the Van Nuy High School.
For a reincarnated mind, high school was merely an inefficient social construct, since the only reason he came here was because the only other three choices were staying in elementary, moving to middle school, or homeschooling.
That said, for a nine-year-old body, however, it was a legitimate hazard zone.
The sheer scale of the environment was daunting.
Jake moved through it at a calm walking pace, backpack resting on one shoulder, staring everywhere without ever appearing to stare.
It was a chaotic, primitive ecosystem.
Two girls by the classroom door lowered their voices as he approached.
"…that's him."
"The little kid?"
"He skipped like four grades."
"Five, actually," jake said pleasantly after hearing the two girls talking about him.
"But four sounds less obnoxious, so feel free to use that." he joked
Both girls blinked before laughing.
Humor was the fastest solvent in any social system.
He stepped into first period English.
Mrs. Donnelly was in her early fifties, severe haircut, wire-frame glasses, and posture like an ex-military officer.
Jake could tell she was a control oriented person.
Jake liked her immediately. A good tructure was always predictable.
The room went quiet as twenty-eight teenagers turned to look at the child walking in.
"Oh i heard about you, Welcome to English class, Jake," she said.
"Yo, do you need a booster seat?"
Laughter rippled across the room.
Jake turned and observed the owner of the voice.
A white tall boy. Probably a basketball player. Good skin, expensive sneakers, slightly insecure smile.
Classic class clown.
Uses humor offensively before others can target him.
Having analized him, jake smiled.
"Only if you need help passing algebra this semester."
The room exploded with laughter.
The basketball player grinned and lifted both hands.
"Okay, tiny man got jokes."
English class passed rather monotously after that, just like the other classes.
At 1:15 p.m., Jake sat in the fluorescent-lit office of Mr. Higgins, the school psychologist.
The school district, terrified of the liability of dropping a fourth-grader into a high school environment, had mandated weekly check-ins.
After all, Jake was the youngest by four years and the smallest by a foot.
Mr. Higgins was a man in his late forties who looked like he hadn't slept a full eight hours since starting to work.
His tie was slightly crooked, and he was nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee like it was life support.
Jake sat in the oversized leather guest chair.
He let his shoulders slump, and his feet swung back and forth, making sure his sneakers gently tapped the wood of the chair.
He focused on the diplomas framed on the wall behind the desk.
State university, graduate certification.
A faded attendance plaque from a district workshop dated 1998.
Four years old and still hung where visitors could see it.
A man who valued appearances of competence or at least academic competence.
"Comfortable there, Jake?"
Jake looked down at how the chair had practically eaten him and gave a tiny shrug, letting his feet swing once more.
"It's kinda like sitting in a giant baseball glove."
The answer landed exactly where he wanted it to.
A little imaginative maybe boyish.
Just enough intelligence to sound observant, not enough to feel rehearsed.
Mr. Higgins' mouth moved into something closer to a real smile this time.
"That's a new one."
Jake lifted one shoulder again, eyes flicking briefly to the mug, then the legal pad, then back to Higgins' face.
"And what do you like, Jake?"
Jake looked down at his shoes for a second, watching one lace bounce as his foot swung.
"I like questions," he said.
Mr. Higgins smiled a little at that. "More than answers?"
Jake shrugged. "Answers stop."
The pencil moved again.
Jake could almost hear the sentence forming on the yellow pad.
Shows curiosity. Open to abstract thinking.
Maybe he could make a module to read what someone is writing by the movement of the pencil.
While thinking that, he kept his face easy.
"I mean, if you get an answer, then everybody kinda moves on." He glanced up. "But if nobody knows, people keep talking."
Mr. Higgins nodded slowly. "That's true."
"Like the curtain thing."
"The blue curtain."
Jake gave a small grin. "Yeah. If it's just blue, then okay. But if people think it means something, they keep thinking about it."
"And you like that?"
Jake thought about how to make it sound normal.
Not too deep, sounding just curious.
"It's fun," he said. "Seeing why people think stuff."
Mr. Higgins leaned back a little more. The chair gave a soft creak.
"So you like figuring people out."
Jake let out a tiny breath through his nose, almost a laugh.
"Everybody does."
"Not everyone notices they do."
The office got quiet again, but it didn't feel tense this time. Just thoughtful.
Then Higgins changed direction.
"What about the older kids?"
Jake blinked.
There it was, back to the real reason for the meeting.
"They're tall," he said first.
That got a small laugh.
"And loud."
"Anyone bother you?"
Jake shook his head.
"Not really. Mostly, they just stare."
"How's that feel?"
Jake let himself think before answering.
This one needed honesty.
"Kind of weird," he admitted. "But everything today is weird i guess."
Mr. Higgins nodded like that was exactly the kind of thing he'd hoped to hear.
"Different weird, or bad weird?"
Jake looked toward the office window, where the early afternoon light was shining against the glass.
"Different."
He turned back.
"People act strange when they don't know where something fits."
The words came out simple, easy.
Still, Higgins' eyebrows lifted a little.
Jake added quickly, "Like when a kid's in the wrong class."
That seemed to smoothed it out.
Mr. Higgins rested the pencil down and folded his hands.
"Did your mom want this? The high school placement?"
Jake already knew what the question really meant.
Was he pushed?
Were his parents trying to make him into a trophy?
He answered carefully.
"They wanted me to be where I could learn stuff."
"And what did you want?"
Jake looked right at him.
This one, at least, could be true.
"I didn't wanna stay bored."
That sat in the room for a second.
Just the truth, of course a little trimmed to fit.
Mr. Higgins gave a slow nod, like that answer made sense in more ways than one.
Then there was a soft knock at the office door.
Three quick taps.
Jake turned.
The door opened a few inches, and Judith leaned in with the kind of smile that always made a room feel less institutional.
"Am I interrupting?"
Her voice was gentle, polished, and a little breathless, like she'd come straight from the car without slowing down.
Mr. Higgins stood halfway. "Not at all, Ms. Harper. We were just wrapping up."
Jake slid forward in the oversized chair, his sneakers finally brushing the carpet fully as he hopped down.
The room suddenly felt bigger once he was standing.
Judith stepped inside, her heels clicking softly against the tile just past the rug. She looked good in the effortless, carefully put-together way some adults managed—light sweater, neat hair, sunglasses pushed up into it.
Her eyes landed on Jake first.
"How was it?"
He lifted one shoulder and gave her a small smile.
"Not a bad day"
Her hand came down to rest lightly on his shoulder, warm and familiar.
"Just not bad?"
Jake glanced at Higgins, then back at her.
"The chair was huge."
That made her laugh. Ever since being the manager of the "Harper Family LLC " she seemed to be impossible to be in a bad mood.
Mr. Higgins smiled too, the professional edge finally easing off him.
"I think he handled his first day very well."
Judith's fingers squeezed Jake's shoulder once, proud but not overdone.
"I knew he would."
Jake looked up at her, then toward the open office door where the hallway stretched beyond in long rows of lockers and fading afternoon noise.
Kids going home and Teachers talking.
A janitor's cart squeaking somewhere far off.
Judith picked up his backpack from beside the chair and handed it to him.
"Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you home."
Jake slipped one strap over his shoulder and followed her toward the doorway.
As they stepped out into the hall, he glanced back once.
Mr. Higgins was already writing something on the legal pad.
His first official impression.
Jake gave him a small wave.
Then Judith's hand settled at the middle of his back, guiding him gently into the warm gold light spilling through the hallway windows, and together they walked toward the front doors.