Today was a rather strange day. A day that I really would like to forget. Yet, some part of me inside screamed that I was being too hasty. Hold on, I’m leaving out a lot of details so maybe I should take care of that first. Yeah, that’s the right way to go about it. But I’m really starting to doubt myself here because the events I witnessed seemed rather ludicrous. Actually, I’m sure if someone else told the story I was about to tell, I would denounce them as crazy. Might even commit them to a psychiatric ward. However, I assure you that everything I’m going to tell is true. – Excerpt from Diary of Classmate A of Emma Steinhart
I didn’t know Emma Steinhart that well at all. After all, she was so reserved that no one really wanted to talk to her. But I had to admit that she was excellent within an academic setting. Not that I really paid attention to those things a lot. I had problems of my own and to claim that I even wanted to know Steinhart would be a lie. I had only spoken to Steinhart maybe a few times and you couldn’t exactly classify them as conversations. They were mostly short exchange of words, no big significance behind them at all.
So the fact that I got caught up in something with Steinhart surprised even me. But that will be for later. The story really begins at the beginning of math class. I’m a decent student, not the greatest but certainly competent enough to be in the same advanced classes as Steinhart at least. And some of the other smart kids too. But I didn’t really stand out and I preferred it that way. It was a pain to deal with the school hierarchy so staying in the shadows was the best course of action to avoid any trouble.
“Everyone, we have a special visitor today. Our normal math tutor is actually sick today so we have a guest from the local university today. I’ll let him introduce himself,” the math teacher announced at the beginning of class.
“I’m Zhuyu Long, a junior at the university. I’m here to fill in. I have interest in how schools teach mathematics so I hope you don’t mind if I observe during this period. I’ll be in the usual room that you get help from after school if you are in need of my assistance,” a man with medium length hair introduced himself.
He didn’t stand out much other than his rather serious attire. He wore a grey hoodie with a…. dress vest and shirt underneath it? In addition, he wore grey dress pants with a checked pattern. Zhuyu carried a black briefcase, metallic in appearance. I didn’t really pay much more attention to him after that. After all, most of my attention was focused on the material being presented by the teacher.
“Okay, I believe that will be it for today. If you need any help, I’m sure our guest will be glad to help you. Remember that homework is due tomorrow,” the teacher finished early, packing up his supplies.
I looked around the room and saw Steinhart scribbling in her notebook. She had a serious expression on her face, mumbling something underneath her breath. Probably best to not approach her right now. I actually did need some help with homework. I glanced at the back of the room and saw Zhuyu placing a notebook into his briefcase. Uh, I didn’t really feel comfortable talking to someone new. I had enough trouble speaking to the normal math tutor. But, this homework was really hard.
“Whoa, is Steinhart actually going to get help?” I heard one of my classmates whisper.
What was going on? Steinhart usually seemed pretty confident of herself and I never saw her going to the tutor either. Zhuyu glanced up from a book he held in his hand. Steinhart gave him an icy glare and they talked about something I couldn’t quite hear. It didn’t look like they were talking about math, though. Did they know each other from somewhere?
“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” another classmate asked.
Zhuyu pulled out a notepad and wrote down what appeared to be solutions. It was only three lines and Steinhart gave him a hard glare in response. The university student shrugged his shoulders as if to dismiss her. Never saw someone give that kind of treatment to Steinhart before. Steinhart walked away, an angry and brooding look on her face. Best to not question things like this. Always remain a distant observer but never get involved.
Before my school day was over, I was subjected to one of Mr. Mills’ long rant about how the school was foolish for bringing in a university student to sub in for our normal math tutor. Vincent Staccato rolled his eyes at Mr. Mills’ words, obviously not buying anything that the teacher lectured on. Vincent Staccato was another one of those honor students like Emma Steinhart. My interactions with him were limited as well. His sister was pretty well known for her business but it seemed that her rather carefree and polarizing personality didn’t apply to him.
“And another thing, what is up with his attire? He doesn’t even wear a tie. Leaving the top of his dress shirt unbuttoned like a disheveled mess. Not to mention that inappropriate pairing with a hoodie. What kind of professional wears a hoodie instead of a posh suit. And his shoes, very unacceptable. No one pairs sneakers with slacks! Never! See to it that if any of you ever pull off anything of the sort, there will be an immediate reprimand from me,” Mr. Mills droned on, the frustration and anger with Zhuyu Long’s clothes evident.
“Mr. Mills, there is an obvious contradiction with your statement. You did say before that he wasn’t a professional why expect him to carry on that image? He’s a university student after all and from what I’ve heard, at least knowledgeable in mathematics. Your field of expertise doesn’t lie within mathematics so your opinion with his outer appearance isn’t an indication of his skills,” Vincent raised his hand in the air and spoke even before Mr. Mills gave him permission.
And those long, biting words summarized Staccato well. He was a bit of a… for the lack of a better word, an ass. But you couldn’t deny his expertise and scores at the school. Almost a match with Emma Steinhart. Not exactly surprising who his sister was. Still, you had to commend Staccato for his courage to speak out against Mr. Mills. Mr. Mills was rather biased and no one in class ever really halted him except for Staccato.
“Vincent, must you always interrupt class just to voice your petulant opinion? I know damn well that someone like that got lucky and somehow entered into this position through sheer manipulation rather than skill. Vincent, please write a one page paper on professionalism due by tomorrow as punishment for speaking without permission,” Mr. Mills glanced up at the clock, very irked by what Staccato said to him.
Staccato didn’t have much of an expression after Mr. Mills assigned him the essay. This was nothing new. I’m sure by now Staccato didn’t even care anymore. Almost every day, Staccato had some sharp quips or criticisms of Mr. Mills through clever word play or subtly changing the topic to incriminate Mr. Mills on something he said before. It was just an accepted occurrence at this point.
Lantern Dragon Works 