Date: Wed, 25 Jan 2017 10:50:29 +1000
From: Storyteller Guy <newstories996@gmail.com>
Subject: Prodigy and Prejudice - Chapter 3

Thanks once again for the emails I have received. For those of you who
haven't let me know what you think, please do –
newstories996@gmail.com. I do like to hear feedback and I like to
incorporate what I can into the story.

I've started mapping out the next few chapters after this and it's going to
get very interesting. I hope I can keep all the readers interested.

Please remember to donate. Nifty isn't here for free.

---

PRODIGY AND PREJUDICE

Chapter 3

"Jesus Christ, Nick, how many sit-ups do you do?"

"Eat a burger, you bloody stick!"

"Put a shirt on, you're making all the girls pregnant!"

Nick didn't know what to do as he endured the ribbing of the other four
boys while walking up the beach to where they were sitting in the shade of
a large pandanus as the sun scorched overhead. Nick had stayed in the water
with Ryan as long as he could, but even he was pooped. He didn't expect the
barrage of abuse as he walked up the beach, with his wet board shorts
clinging to his legs and his torso glinting in the sun.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Nick said seriously and self-consciously as he slinked
over towards his bag, "I'll get my shirt."

Xander smiled warmly at him. "Hey, we're just jokin' `round. Gonna have to
up your comeback game if you're gonna hang with us!"

"Maybe you should do what he does, fatso," Jonno poked at Charlie,
unintentionally changing the subject, "and lose those rolls."

"Hey! At least I don't look like a xylophone like the red nut over there!"

The boys, including, Nick, all shared a laugh at that one. It was true;
Ross was so skinny, that sometimes when he bent his body, he looked
skeletal. Whilst Nick certainly didn't feel comfortable throwing chat like
the rest of the group, he at least didn't feel so self-conscious about the
put-downs that were directed at him given that they were thrown around
liberally.

The first thing Nick did when he reached his bag after he'd dried himself,
even before putting his shirt on, was put on his crucifix. So as not to
attract attention to him wearing the jewellery, he quickly replaced his
shirt, put a towel around his waist, and sat down by the rest of the
group. However, nothing goes unnoticed in a group of 12-year-old boys.

"How come you wear that necklace?" Ross asked when Nick sat down. His eagle
eyes hadn't missed it.

Nick was embarrassed, but in the silence that followed Ross' question,
thought he should say the truth. "Oh, um ... my Mum gave it to me. She, um
... she died just after I got it. So ... you know, I like it."

Nick looked down at the ground, embarrassed to have told the story as well
as let on that he really was a mummy's boy. But that was nothing on Ross,
whose cheeks went the shade of his hair as the other boys all looked at him
with frowns. He was completely mortified.

"Oh, dude, I'm really sorry, I didn't ... you know ... I'm sorry." He'd
even flustered himself to boot.

Nick shrugged his shoulders and didn't avert his downward gaze as the other
boys looked him over. "It's alright. I dunno ... makes me feel like she's
still here, sometimes."

The immeasurable awkwardness that had manifested itself in the group was
cut to shreds when Nick raised his head and looked out at the ocean. The
other boys all followed suit, eager to find something to break the ice.
Right at that moment, Ryan launched himself onto a large wave, effortlessly
scything down the breaking roller at an ideal angle. Subtle movements of
his legs and body kept the board perfectly positioned as he continued apace
along the tube.

Suddenly and without warning, the water directly in front of Ryan's path
began to break; Nick almost gasped with worry has he immediately thought
the board would be crunched under the waves and Ryan would be thrown off.
To the contrary, however, with a swift flick of the board upwards, Ryan
bounced off the crest of the wave, high in the air. He continued to pull
the front of the board back and, after executing a perfect 360-degree
backflip, pointed the nose of his board underwater, safely clear of the
breaking wave. After an elegant dive, he promptly resurfaced, still
centrally positioned on his board. He flicked his head gracefully to remove
his fringe from his forehead and reopened his eyes, immediately looking
toward the beach to see if his friends were watching him.

"Holy fucking shit ..." Nick muttered under his breath slowly, a little too
loudly, as he sat gawking at the ocean and what he'd just seen with his
mouth agape. He couldn't believe he'd just started swearing like a trooper,
either.

"Yep," came the sharp reply from Charlie, sitting next to Nick, "he's
always doing that."

"How do you ... how do you even do that?" Nick enquired of no-one in
particular, still looking at the boy on his board in the ocean, shocked at
Ryan's talent.

"I always fuck it up," Xander said truthfully. "You better ask him."

As Xander started speaking, even from out at the breakers, Nick thought
he'd caught Ryan's eye. He confirmed his hunch when he saw the boy flash
that ever-hopeful, boyish grin straight back at him. Sure enough, Nick
witnessed Ryan nod his head upward once in the `wassup' motion. As soon as
he saw it, Nick felt instantly at home, and felt his body relax. He just
couldn't help but flash a smile back. He reciprocated the nod, before
watching Ryan snap his head around in time to see the next wave coming,
which he smoothly caught into shore, eventually standing up in the
shallows.  He just couldn't take his eyes off the boy.

As soon as Ryan had exited the water and tucked his body board under his
arm, the boys (excepting Nick, of course, who watched on with a laugh)
promptly began their ribbing.

"Look at this poof in his rashie!"

"Aw, little Ry Ry doesn't want to hurt his tummy!"

"Scaredy-cat! Mummy doesn't want him getting burned!"

Ryan smiled at the joshing he was receiving as he dropped his board down
next to his bag under the tree. He knew the boys had seen him eat up his
final wave, and he knew they revered him for that. As was his style, he
couldn't let the moment pass without saying something in return.

"Fine – seeing as all you gaylords want to look at me!" he yelled
playfully as he quickly pulled off his rash vest.

Ryan duly removed the item of clothing, exposing his torso to the North
Queensland air. He did so with a deliberate flick of his hair, just as he'd
done while he was in the surf. With the attention of each of the boys, and
even a couple of onlookers walking down the Strand nearby, he tilted his
head to the side and placed his hands on his hips in a faux-model pose. He
finished by pouting, which caused all the boys to break into hysterics.

Except Nick, that was. Nick just smiled widely in awe. He put the comment
about gaylords from Ryan to the back of his mind as he admired the scene in
front of him.

Nick looked at Ryan's creamy, flat stomach struggling to keep his mouth
shut. The lines of muscles that hadn't quite formed into a sixpack
automatically lowered Nick's eyes to Ryan's little belly button. He looked
at Ryan's wet board shorts, clinging to his long, thin legs. He noticed,
for the first time, the beautiful round globes that made up Ryan's bottom,
automatically assuming their innate firmness. He revelled in Ryan's full
lips extended to form his duck face. He was awed by the way Ryan's wet
sandy brown hair seemed to just fall into place with just a flick of his
head. Ryan's wet eyelashes adorned his stunning blue eyes.

`Oh my God,' Nick thought, `he's beautiful.'

He'd never thought of a boy – or anyone, for that matter – in the way
he was thinking about Ryan. It was the first time he'd started to get hard
looking at a boy in real life. It wasn't just a little flutter,
either. Beneath his towel and board shorts, Nick was sporting a full-blown
erection. Four and a half inches of Italian steel, sitting below two layers
of fabric (well, three if you count his boxer-briefs). He just couldn't
look away, and his heart was beating faster. Why couldn't he feel like this
watching all the girls at the tennis club dart around in their skimpy
tennis outfits?

While the other boys were laughing and looking at each other, Ryan felt a
set of eyes on him. He quickly broke his pose, and looked over at Nick,
hopeful that he might have just caught him ogling. As soon as Ryan looked
over at his friend, Nick yanked his eyes away towards the other boys. Ryan,
still smiling after his post-surf antics, smiled even wider. Maybe Nick was
like him; maybe Nick was into him. One thing was certain, though, Nick had
taken a very close examination of Ryan's modelling show.

Nick was immediately and wholly embarrassed as he thought he'd been caught
by Ryan. Was he actually caught? He'd have to have been, Nick thought. Then
what if Ryan thought he was gay? Nick didn't even know himself if he was
gay, but if Ryan thought he was, he'd probably tell all the boys, they'd
hate him, and then he'd start school with no friends and already being
teased. His father probably wouldn't approve, either. Maybe Fran wouldn't
even talk to him. Willing his now throbbing cock to go down, Nick thought
of the consequences of being found out which, eventually and to his relief,
caused his erection to subside.

When the boys eventually left the beach because it was too hot, it was
decided it was time to chill out in the air conditioned comfort of the food
court at the Beachfront Mall. Nick was only too happy to tag along with the
rest of the crew as his favourite vendor of one of his favourite guilty
pleasures, fried chicken, was located in the mall. The boys started off by
ribbing Nick at the amount of food he ordered, but were left shocked when
the red cardboard box in which his food was served contained only a few
crumbs and the bones of the bits of bird he devoured. For a moment at the
conclusion of his meal, Nick forgot his surroundings and let out a large
belch. The sound, coupled with the sudden embarrassment Nick felt, caused
the boys to break out into laughter again.

For the most part, Nick was just a passenger in the conversation, but that
suited him just fine. He answered questions asked of him about his family
and his past, he laughed at Charlie's jokes, he chuckled at the
back-and-forth between Jonno and Ross, and he listened carefully at
Xander's (probably tall) tales of sexual escapades with girls. All the
other boys just listened, too, all suspecting the same as Nick.

Ryan looked over at Nick throughout lunch, watching how he fit into the
group. Sure, he wasn't a natural conversationalist nor was he a
particularly open guy, but at least he was having a go. Ryan couldn't help
but blush a little whenever Nick shot his beautiful white toothy smile. The
energy this boy exuded made Ryan feel things he wasn't comfortable with and
that he hadn't felt before.

It was decided after lunch that, because of the amount of food they'd eaten
and the fact that the promised storm had not arrived, it was far too hot to
do anything other than go home. They'd be seeing each other the next day at
school, anyway. While the others went their separate ways, Nick finally
could show Ryan how to do something – catch a bus back to Nick's place
(it was bike or car for Ryan, he'd probably caught three buses in his
entire life). With a bellyful of chicken and the hot, tropical air to
contend with, Ryan didn't even think of complaining as they made their way
back to Nick's abode.

"I had the best time today, Ryan," Nick said with a smile as the boys went
through Nick's front gate. "Thanks for inviting me. Your friends are all
really cool."

Ryan smiled back, holding out his fist ready for it to be bumped. "Same
here. Hey, you can keep that board, Dad'll be happy it's finally out of the
garage."

Nick beamed, bumping Ryan's fist in return. "Really? Thanks, Ryan, that's
really nice!"

"Remember, they're your friends now, too," Ryan added as he tied his board
around his backpack. He looked over at Nick, who was still grinning from
ear to ear.

`That smile again', thought Ryan, as he instead calmly responded and turned
to his bike. "Well I'd better get my arse up the hill. I'll see ya
tomorrow, classmate!"

Nick waved as Ryan, mounted his bike, and set off up the street. Nick
continued to watch the boy as his thin legs moved the pedals in a seemingly
effortless motion. He didn't even have to get his keys out as his father
opened the door; his father, appearing to have been alerted by the
conversation occurring between the boys, opened the front door.

Ray smiled as he looked his son over, noting that he was still carrying the
board Ryan had given him earlier that morning. "I see you didn't break
anything, then, mate?"

Nick smiled enthusiastically as he walked towards the door. "It was so much
fun, Dad. Ryan even let me keep his old board!"

Ray raised his eyebrows. "And have you got anywhere to put it?" He was
rewarded with Nick's saddening face when he realised there might not
actually be space to store it in the house, causing him to smile. "Go on
then, chuck it in your room and get in out of the sun. Wash that salt and
sand off you while you're at it."

Nick nodded with a smile as he charged inside, dumping his new board, his
backpack and his thongs in his room, before heading straight into the
bathroom and locking the door. As he heard the `click' of the lock on the
bathroom door, the reason he usually locked the bathroom door made his dick
jump. The youngster smirked, wanting to remove his clothing and commence
his activity as quickly as he could. He turned on the shower tap to his
usual setting before tearing off his T-shirt and exasperatedly fighting
with the knotted drawstring of his board shorts. By the time he removed the
ageing shorts, slid his still damp underpants off, and looked down at his
dick, not only did he smile as it was already semi-hard, but he was sure
he'd spotted an extra couple of pubes sprouting at its base. This was going
to be a fun one.

As Nick stood under the trusty old shower head, the place where he first
discovered how his left hand could do so much more than hold a tennis
racquet, he closed his eyes as the warm water streamed over his body,
dampening his hair and causing his muscular little body to glisten in the
bathroom light. Enjoying the comfortable stream of water flowing over him,
he rubbed his stomach, and pinched his nipples, bringing his body alive.
The view from the bathroom mirror was a treat. A young, muscular boy
rubbing his body as his young cock surged to full power.

A few moments after he'd closed his eyes, his mind's eye replayed the scene
that was laid before him on the beach. Ryan, in that model's pose, moved
his body in a way that had had glued Nick to it. It had touched a part of
Nick he hadn't really explored before. As much as it frightened Nick, it
made him hornier than he thought he'd ever been in his life. There was
Ryan's mop of sandy brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Then there were his
quite frankly sexy thin legs and gorgeous bubble butt cheeks. Nick imagined
what it would be like to feel all of Ryan's body. Nick's cock was so hard
he thought it was about to explode.

Nick opened his eyes, looked down and admired the view. His cock had
expanded into a raging, almost-teen boner. It was tantalisingly pointing
straight out from his body, with a light purple head peeking out the end of
his foreskin. He smirked, content with his asset, before gripping his young
cock and starting off at a furious pace.

He again closed his eyes, this time imagining Ryan removing his boardshorts
and underpants without the other boys all around, and someplace
private. Nick imagined that in Ryan's nakedness, his cock would jut out,
just as Nick's was, hard and ready for action. Nick would admire the
beautiful form of Ryan's body, with both boys exchanging a smile. Instead
of Ryan rubbing it, though, Ryan would grab Nick's cock and invite Nick to
grab Ryan's. They would stand there, looking at each other, as the young
boys groped each other in a blur of inexperienced hand movements. Nick
imagined Ryan's hand rubbing his cock, and imagined how having another
boy's cock in his hand would make him feel. He let out a sigh at the
vividness of the scene he was imagining. The image of being masturbated by
such a hot boy, and he doing the same, sent Nick closer to the edge.

Then, just as Nick had seen in the porn ad he accidentally came across
while on the computer the week before, he imagined that Ryan would drop to
his knees and engulf Nick's cock in his mouth. Nick would place his hands
on the back of Ryan's head and encourage the young boy to keep
sucking. Nick had no idea what that would feel like; he imagined it might
be just like a really wet wank. Maybe he would be able to feel Ryan's
tongue as he sucked. He imagined the closeness that he would feel. The
whole scene was beginning to come to a head, as it were, as Nick felt the
familiar tightness building up in his loins. He opened his eyes, and looked
down as he tensed his stomach and thighs in preparation for explosion.

And what an explosion it was.  The first shot of cum that erupted from his
cock was almost like his penis was replaced with a shotgun. He moaned
softly, careful to keep it down given the lack of soundproofing, as the
blast of pearlescent boyjuice slammed into the tiled bathroom wall. That
was followed by three more waves, in decreasing volume, before Nick
released his muscles and his cock and felt a massive sense of relaxation
flood his body. It was so much so, he nearly fell over. He stood there,
almost panting, as he propped himself against the back wall of the shower
and watched his cum dribble down the adjacent wall. `So that's what happens
when I don't jack off for a few days,' he thought with a smirk.

Nick smiled at the fantasy that had played out in his mind. It was his, and
his alone, he thought. As long as he kept it from Ryan, as long as he
didn't let on to anyone else about the fact that he masturbated thinking of
him, no-one needed to know. With a smile, he cleaned up his mess as his
cock deflated, before proceeding with his shower.

---

Monday morning had come too soon, Nick thought. He wasn't sure if he was
ready. In fact, he knew deep down he wasn't.

Nick stood at the red brick front fence of Prindiville College, having
looked at nothing else for the last two blocks he'd walked, and
gulped. There he was, standing in his crisp blue short sleeved button up
school shirt, regulation black dress shorts, long blue school socks, and
black leather school shoes. It was lucky that his scholarship covered the
uniforms, he thought, otherwise he'd really have been up the creek.

`Am I supposed to be here?' Nick asked himself as he eyed the school and
the bustle of kids heading in on their first day. `Look at all these rich
kids.' Nick noted that most of the boys were all much bigger than
him. Imagine if his secret got out here! They'd all pummel him for sure, he
thought. It was going to take a lot to make sure he fit in. Judging from
first looks, he wasn't sure he was up to the task.

He nervously pulled out the letter he'd received from the school, telling
him where he needed to go. `Where the hell is the Smith Centre?' he thought
to himself.

He was snapped out of his state by the sharp `parp' of a car horn and a
familiar yell out the window of the car that had just pulled into the
loading bay outside the school.

"Lookin' sharp, Nicky!" called Barry through the window of his Mercedes
four-wheel drive, as Ryan excitedly jumped out of the front seat, and
Xander unfolded his lanky, tall frame from the rear. "Bloody good to see
you here, mate!"

Nick looked at the car and smiled. He was so relieved that the boys had
decided to set a time to meet at the front gate. Nick would have been
completely lost otherwise. It also helped that Barry was just his usual
larrikin self.

"Well don't we all look like complete fuckwits, then?" Xander noted as the
three boys converged, as the three boys' new uniforms lacked any signs of
being worn in and hung off their bodies like curtains. Nick laughed,
knowing exactly what Xander meant. He certainly felt like a complete spud.

Ryan wasn't entirely sure that he agreed with Xander, though ot that he let
anything on. He subtly checked Nick out, including the way his long socks
hugged his young calves. Ryan was disappointed that the school shorts
didn't do justice to Nick's powerful thighs or small butt, but it was a
lovely sight, anyway. Maybe Ryan just had a thing for boys in uniform. Or
maybe it was just Nick. Either way, Ryan was struggling to hide his
excitement at spending five days a week with him.

After Charlie, Ross, and Jonno had arrived, the boys all compared their
timetables. Much to the boys' dismay, they had been placed in different
classes. Of course, Nick and Ryan were together, as was Jonno, but the
other three boys had all been put in the other year eight class. With a
disappointed sigh, the boys agreed to meet outside the canteen for lunch,
and went their separate ways as they looked for their respective
classrooms.

When the school bell finally chimed, with a "here we go, fellas" from
Jonno, he, Ryan and Nick filed into their designated classroom. They
managed to find desks near enough to each other, and looked around the room
to see if there was anyone else they knew. It wasn't looking promising.

Their scouting was broken by the sound of a stern, rotund man entering
their classroom in a scruffy button-up shirt and rather baggy beige
trousers. He had circular glasses perched on the end of his nose, with
frames almost the same colour as his greying dark curly hair, and a blue
twine glasses rope around the back of his neck. The lines on his face and
his furrowed bushy eyebrows provided the easily made assumption from each
of the boys that he was in absolutely no mood to waste time on chit-chat.

"Right then, I'm Mr Van Zant, and what I say goes. You've probably all had
family here, so you know how it all works. If you don't, well, find a
friend and ask them."

Nick looked shell-shocked as the burly teacher began reading the roll. He
had no idea `how it all worked'! He looked around the room, looking for
faces that were as worried as he was, learning surnames as each of the boys
answered. It appeared that was how people referred to one another around
here. Nick didn't see any of the other boys looking remotely as out of
place as he was. Suddenly, however, it was his turn to answer.

"Rabuzzo?"

"Here, sir," Nick answered timidly as he put his hand in the air.

Mr Van Zant looked him over over the top of his glasses, which were pushed
to the end of his nose, and furrowed his brow. "You're that tennis kid,
aren't you?"

Nick forced a smile, unhappy at just being branded a sportsman and not a
student like the rest of the class. "Yes, sir."

The teacher continued to stare at Nick. "You won anything yet?"

Nick nodded. "The age championships, sir. Just on Saturday, actually."

The teacher scoffed and frowned at Nick with disdain. "What, the
under-13s?"

Nick was almost too scared to answer. "Uh, no sir, the uh ... the opens."

The teacher opened his face up, shocked and wide-eyed. "Bulldust! YOU, won
the North Queensland Age Championships? In the open division? With
17-year-olds?"

Nick nodded timidly, paralysed and unable to answer properly. The teacher
continued to look him over, and failed to accept Nick's testimony, resuming
his frown.

"You know, Rabuzzo, lying isn't a trait we value highly here at
Prindiville."

Ryan piped up with a hopeful expression on his face. "It's true, sir, I was
there!"

Mr Van Zant looked at Ryan down his glasses like a lion eyeing its prey as
his brow stayed furrowed in what appeared to be his default angry
expression. "Who are you, his bloody boyfriend? You'll speak only when your
spoken to, Masters!"

Ryan looked down forlornly. "Sorry, sir."

"I'll be keeping an eye on you two," the teacher added warily, looking them
both over for longer than was necessary, before resuming the roll call.

Nick looked down. He hadn't been rude; in fact, he had been quite
polite. He hadn't spoken out of turn. He hadn't offended anyone. All he'd
done was answer the questions asked of him and he was already in the bad
books. How was he going to last at this bloody school when he couldn't even
do anything right?

As Nick was studying the carpeted floor of the old classroom, wondering how
he was ever going to make a good impression at the school he just didn't
belong at, he heard the soft voice of what sounded like a very proper,
older man approach the classroom door and address the teacher.

"Mr Van Zant, I apologise for the intrusion."

The teacher looked up with disdain, as every boy in the class shot their
eyes towards the Richard Gere lookalike standing at the door in his flowing
black robe. The man stood there, his hair perfectly combed, with a warm
smile on his face, eyeballing Mr Van Zant.

"Yes, Arthur?"

The tall old man smiled at the usual prickliness from the year eight
teacher before he continued. "Might I have a word with one of your
students, a Mr Rabuzzo, please?"

Nick sat up straight in his chair with a worried expression, as every set
of eyes in the room moved from the man at the door to the now frightened
young boy.

Mr Van Zant frustratedly sighed as he removed his glasses and frowned at
the man in the doorway. "Arthur, we've just st-"

The teacher was interrupted as the older man spoke sternly, yet still a
soft undertone. "I would be much obliged, Mr Van Zant."

The teacher sighed again, this time defeated. "Well, off you go, Rabuzzo,"
he said, flicking his hand towards the boy.

The old man smiled as Nick got up and flustered himself attempting to
collect his pencil case and school diary. "No need to take your books, Mr
Rabuzzo. Perhaps your friend, Mr Masters, might collect these for you
should our meeting continue into your next lesson."

Nick looked over at Ryan, who shrugged. "Thanks," Nick said softly to his
friend, as he awkwardly made his way out of the classroom.

The old man smiled as Nick walked out the door, and ushered the boy up the
corridor as they walked.

"Arthur Mayall," the older man said as he extended his hand to Nick. "As
I'm sure you're aware, I'm the headmaster."

Nick looked at the man's hand, before shaking it weakly. It surprised Nick
when the older man gripped Nick's hand tightly, almost crushing some of his
fingers.

"Ah Nick," Arthur said with a light chuckle whilst they walked, "we'll have
to fix that handshake. You must look a man in the eye, and you must grip
his hand firmly. Shall we do that again?"

Nick looked up at Arthur's smiling face and accepted his outstretched
hand. This time, Nick gripped his hand firmly, and looked into Arthur's
eyes meekly. "Sorry, sir."

Arthur smiled as he opened the door to the school office, ushering Nick
through and into his study. "You're a Prindiville gentleman already," he
said, offering Nick a seat and placing his black outer robe on a magohany
stand. Underneath the robe, he wore a dashing pinstripe suit which appeared
to be perfectly cut to the man's tall figure. He undid the button on his
jacket, and sat down quickly, offering Nick to do the same.

Once both man and boy were seated, Arthur felt Nick's unease, and spoke
softly with a smile.

"Nick, I wanted to personally welcome you to Prindiville. I was absolutely
delighted to be able to offer you the scholarship to come here. I know that
you are probably feeling somewhat dazed at these unfamiliar surroundings,
but please rest assured I want to make sure that you thrive here just like
every other boy we have enrolled."

Nick gulped, still overawed by the whole occasion. "Uh, thanks, Mr
Mayall. I, uh ... I don't think Mr Van Zant likes me."

Arthur chuckled. "Ah, my friend, don't you worry about that! In truth,
really, Mr Van Zant doesn't like anybody. Unless your surname's Warburton,
I suppose. Barry tells me you've already had your first encounter."

Nick shuddered at the name. He'd completely forgotten that Dylan went
here. He hoped he could avoid him, at least on his first day.  Arthur
sensed the tension in the room and wanted to cut it there and then. He
spoke softly and purposely to Nick, with a broad smile.

"Remember, Nick, I picked you to come here personally. Should you
experience any difficulty whatsoever, report it to me. I will ensure that
you can focus on your studies, and that you can become the best tennis
player this school, and this city, for that matter, has ever seen. You will
soon find out that I command a certain respect at this school."

Nick almost felt himself smile. "So I don't need to worry about Mr Van
Zant?"

Arthur smiled. "Not Mr Van Zant, not Dylan, not anything. Just be yourself,
get your work done, and win us the tennis premiership!"

Nick timidly smiled and nodded. "I'll do my best, sir."

Arthur stood up from his desk, happy at how his meeting had proceeded.
"That's all we ask of you here. Now, I understand you're about to learn the
joys of trigonometry with Mr Ballard – do me a favour, Nick, and try to
stay awake, will you?"

Nick stood up and smiled wider. Maybe there was someone on his team after
all.