The Adventures of Darren Cassidy - Chapter Seven, Part Four - Not so Great Expectations

‘“We all three of us”?’ Tyler asked, leaning away from Aiden as he looked at him to emphasise his confusion. ‘Why Aiden, what archaic grammar thou employest. Pray, what is thine motivation for this quite unforeseeable act?’

Aiden blushed. ‘I’m reading classical literature at home, okay?’

‘Whoa, dude, I was joking. You mean to tell me mon actually spoke like that in the olden days?’

‘Yes… At least, I think so.’

‘That’s wicked.’

Aiden raised his eyebrows. ‘You think it’s cool?’

‘What? No! I mean “Wicked Mismagius of the West”-wicked. Seriously, do I look like a surfer to you?’

‘Skaters could use slang like that too,’ Darren pointed out.

‘If they use skateboards, yes,’ the little Dragon said exasperatedly. ‘I own roller skates – not the same thing.’ He pushed open the door to Mr Cameron’s class, at which they had just arrived. Seeing no-one but the Granbull at his desk, he said, ‘Hey, look. We’re early.’

‘Very,’ Mr Cameron said, looking up from his work. ‘Two hours and thirty minutes, to be exact.’

‘We don’t have class here now?’

‘Evidently not.’

‘Oh. Sorry.’ Tyler hurriedly closed the door and grinned at his two friends. Embarrassment was clear on his face. ‘Dudes, we got lost.’

‘What do we have, then?’ Darren asked.

‘Let’s see…’ Aiden said, narrowing his eyes and gazing at the ceiling. ‘Experience and Battle are tomorrow… We just had R&H… And we’ve already had S&T and Evolution twice, so that leaves A&N.’

‘Actually, we have Alchemy and Nutrition tomorrow,’ Darren said.

‘Then what the fudge do we have now?’

‘Evolution!’ Darren exclaimed, dashing off in the class’ direction.

‘What makes you say that?’ Tyler, who was on Aiden’s back, asked.

‘We have Evolution three times a week, since there are seven subjects, but only fifteen periods, so one needs to be repeated thrice.’

He was right. They entered Mr Williams’ class just as the bell rang. Darren noticed Duncan was present, and not asleep, surprisingly.

‘Our luck this week is outstanding,’ Aiden whispered to his friends. ‘Sorry we’re late, sir.’

‘But the bell only rang just now…’ the Furret responded. ‘Oh well, apology accepted anyway. Please, take your seats.’

‘Our luck will run out soon,’ Tyler whispered to Aiden once they were seated. ‘And I think the consequences will be worse than usual when it does.’

‘Shush, you’ll jinx it!’

‘Today, we shall discuss the Eevee-lutionary Line,’ Mr Williams announced. ‘I’ll give a candy to whoever can tell me how many–’

‘Eight!’ Minerva answered, interrupting the teacher before he could finish the question. ‘Fire, Water, Electric, Psychic, Dark, Grass, Ice, and Fairy.’

Mr Williams gawked at Minerva for a second before narrowing his eyes – something he practically never did. ‘I’ll begin again, and anyone except Minerva may answer.’ That time, the Vulpix was the one with the dropped jaw. ‘I’ll give a candy to whoever can tell me how many undocumented Eevee-lutions there are.’

‘Nine!’

‘Ten!’

‘Eleven!’

‘Leslie, would you like to guess twelve?’ Mr Williams asked, looking at the trio the Spearow usually followed around.

‘No, sir. Darren and Tyler are wrong; there are nine undocumented evolved forms for Eevee.’

‘Sir, I still believe the answer is ten,’ Darren objected. ‘Normal, Bug, Flying, Poison, Ground, Rock, Ghost, Steel, Fighting, and Dragon. That’s ten.’

‘Eevee is already a Normal type,’ Leslie pointed out. ‘Considering its unstable genetic makeup, it is therefore unlikely to have a Normal evolved form.’

‘He’s right, Darren,’ Mr Williams admitted. ‘Aiden, that means your answer is–’

‘But sir!’ Darren protested again.

‘I understand your frustration at being wrong because of a technicality, Darren, but–’

‘Actually, he’s right, sir.’

Mr Williams took a deep breath. ‘Yes, Minerva, what do you want to say?’

‘You asked how many undocumented evolved forms there are for Eevee. Despite the unlikelihood of a Normal Eevee-lution, it is nevertheless unrecorded.’

‘They’re right, sir,’ Aiden agreed. ‘My answer is incorrect.’

Mr Williams fell back into his seat and closed his eyes. ‘All right, Darren, you can come fetch the Iapapa gum.’ When the class remained quiet and stationary, the Furret opened his eyes. ‘Darren, why aren’t you coming forward?’

‘You can keep the candy, sir.’

‘Don’t you want it?’

‘No, thank you, sir.’

‘Why not?’

‘No reason.’

In truth, Darren had nothing against chewing gum and would have fetched it from the teacher, but he had realised he was too passionate in proving he was right. Add to that Aiden’s polite admission of being wrong, and he probably seemed like an absolute jerk. Accepting the candy would therefore have made him look smug, and while declining it could make him look like he was sulking, he preferred that perception over behaviour worthy of Malcolm.

‘Ten,’ the Venipede echoed from behind the class.

Mr Williams frowned. ‘What?’

‘Since we’re all being technical, I thought I’d get the candy by giving the correct answer.’

‘But Darren already gave it.’

‘“I’ll give a candy to whoever can tell me how many undocumented Eevee-lutions there are.” You didn’t say anything about having to mention it first. Besides, I like chewing gum.’

For the first time in their school career, Mr Williams snapped.

‘Fine!’ The Furret shot up from his chair like a Pupitar and marched over to Malcolm. He planted the chewing gum on the desk. ‘There! Now, everyone get out. Out!’

Expressions of shock and horror were visible on the students’ faces. When Mr Williams violently pointed at the door and glared, they quickly filed out of the class.

‘No, no, no, pack your bags too.’

The nine Pokémon returned, did as instructed, and waited outside again. It was only five minutes later that they heard their teacher’s voice call out from inside.

‘Good, now enter the class silently, take out your books silently, and turn to the appropriate chapter silently.’ He placed even more emphasis on the last word.

Their shoulders drooped and their eyes averted, the students made for their seats. Of the nine, Darren displayed the most meekness. He paid close attention throughout the entire lesson, but not once did he make eye-contact with anyone. The others might have thought his constant swallowing was also a sign of submission, but really, he was trying to get rid of the sour taste in his mouth.