Chapter Text
“‘Sorry’?” she echoed, leaning over Brad to glare at him. One of her arms shot forward and jabbed him in the chest, startling him. “Gosh, you’re so lucky there aren’t blueprints laying around about you! How would you feel if I examined every intimate inch of your body?”
“C’mon, Jenny! It’s a trap—why can’t you see that? And I thought you didn’t like him anymore!”
“Oh, what do you know? You’ve never been asked out by the most popular guy in school!”
“Nor would I want to be! My eyesight might not be the best, but even I can see his unsavory intentions. Anyway, you’re way better than he is—and you deserve better than him. In fact, if I might—”
“—Ugh, just go away, Sheldon. Before he sees you…”
The last few words were muttered and not altogether intended for his ears, but, as Sheldon clumsily stumbled over his own feet when his robotic companion shoved him away, he heard every heart-wrenching syllable. And, as gentle as the force behind the shove was, the gesture firmly informed him that his presence was unwanted, which only served to further his distress. Once he tentatively regained his balance by grasping for the edge of a nearby desk, envy and heartbreak clutched him in its tight, suffocating grip, especially due to the way Jenny’s expression lit up at the sight of Tremorton High’s finest, Donald Prima, approaching her. Why couldn’t she look at him with a fraction of that adoration?
His latest gift for her was stuffed in his front pocket and nestled between a pair of movie tickets, but he hadn’t had a single opportunity to present any of it before she dismissed his presence in favor of someone whose face was permanently tarnished with ignorant condescension. Did she find it attractive, being looked down upon? He couldn’t fathom why she didn’t regard Don Prima and the rest of the ‘popular’ teenagers of their school as they really were: terrible bullies who didn’t deserve an ounce of her consideration. In his humble opinion, she was far too forgiving.
Slouching, he claimed his seat and dropped his head down on his folded arms. Between the fine strands of his dark hair, he watched Jenny fawn over the muscular blond teenager, whose nose was seemingly stuck in the air. He only caught a few words here and there, but it didn’t take him very long to piece together the nauseating scene that would come that evening—Jenny and Don Prima visiting the cinema after a quick bite at Mezmer’s.
He sank deeper into his chair and buried his face into the maroon fabric of his hoodie. The coincidence was incredible; he himself intended to propose the very same activities, though while withholding any mention of it being a date. He was painfully aware of how she felt about the prospect of dating him, so, as far as she knew, it was supposed to provide the comfortable friendship barrier she needed.
Sheldon’s ears perked up when his robotic interest sighed longingly and dropped into her assigned chair at the desk next to him. Peering up at her, he couldn’t help but to admire the evidence of her bliss. He was simply enchanted by the way her eyes sparkled and stared at something only she could see—by how her thin blue lips were curled into a shy, cute smile. He wanted to be the one in her line of sight, the cause for such an irresistible expression. He desired the freedom to cradle her smooth metallic jaw in his hands and stare deeply into her glassy optics. He desperately yearned to lean in and kiss those pouting synthetic lips.
But, above all, he regretted needing to burst her bubble.
It was all he could do to help her to recognize the danger looming on the horizon, but he had no fathomable idea why she couldn’t see it for herself. In a dejected mumble, he reminded her, “It’s a trap, you know.”
Swiftly wiped of all former happiness, Jenny’s pretty features molded into a familiar glare, which was shot at the sulking young man. “Okay, Sheldon. I heard you the first ten times. Just drop it. Now.”
Sheldon nodded glumly at the reproachful tone and turned his attention to the front of the room when the teacher called for order. Tapping his pencil against the blank sheet of his open notebook, he wished dearly to figure out how he could finally win Jenny’s elusive affections.
Thus far, he had tried everything within his scope of imagination in order to win her over, to no avail. He couldn’t possibly be more transparent about his interest and earnest intentions toward her and liked to think that she was someone who could appreciate such raw honesty. He would never try to humiliate her by staging a fake date. He would never look down upon her—in fact, it was impossible, as she was the one who towered over him by around twelve inches. He would never dream of treating her as anything other than the beautiful, graceful queen who held his very heart and soul between her pinched titanium-alloy digits.
Did he outwardly appear as love-struck as he was? He simply couldn’t help himself—and maybe that was the problem. He hastily erased the little heart he had doodled in the upper-right corner of his paper. Perhaps he was a little obsessive when it came to her and could stand to tone it down… somewhat. After over a year of pining for someone who still didn’t like him the same way, he could take a hint—or fifty.
However, Sheldon’s resolve to give Jenny the space she seemed to want from him was broken almost immediately by lunch period, though not entirely due to his own lack of self-control.
He was dutifully on his way to an empty table with a tray of cafeteria food in his hands, mulling over the events of the previous night’s episode of Worlds Beyond the Stars. With his mind thoroughly distracted, the teenager was hopelessly oblivious when one of his bullies stuck his leg out across his path. His shins knocked painfully against the person’s outstretched limb, and, with a gasp, he tripped and fell forward toward the quickly approaching ground. Normally in such a situation, he would have found himself sprawled across the ground and wearing some of his food—forced to spend roughly half of his lunch hour in the bathroom making himself presentable again—and he tensed in preparation for the impact and ensuing humiliation.
Instead, he was shocked when someone grasped the hood at the back of his neck, keeping him dangling upright and staring down at the tiled floor. The thick cloth of his hoodie slowly slid over his shoulders and down his upper arms, but, before he could shift the weight of his lunch tray to one hand and clutch the front of his hoodie closed, he was yanked backward toward his savior. He felt warmth flood his chest when he heard her sweet voice address him from behind. Who else could it have been but the one person he admired most for her kindness toward the less fortunate?
“—all right, Sheldon?” When he said nothing, Jenny repeated, slightly louder, “I said, ‘Are you all right?’”
“Huh? Oh!” He blinked rapidly, realizing he had inadvertently lost himself in a daydream when Jenny spun him around to face her. He could have sworn she was proposing to him, but cruel reality said otherwise. Blushing slightly, he assured her, “Y-yes, I’m fine… thanks to you.”
“You should be more careful about where you’re walking,” she scolded lightly. Releasing him, she curled her hands into fists and narrowed her gaze at an unfortunate someone somewhere behind Sheldon. “Now, let me deal with the prankster who thought it’d be funny to trip one of my friends.”
‘Friends.’ It never failed to please him when she acknowledged him as one of her friends. After all, to him, it was only a few steps—or letters, if you will—away from ‘boyfriend.’ A crooked smile stretched his lips at the thought.
“Hey, Shel—just the guy I needed to see,” Brad called out from his usual table, catching his attention. “Why don’t'cha sit with us today? I need you to help me persuade Jen to ditch Don Prima for some good ol’-fashioned fun and games at the Carbunkle Manor.”
“Sure!” How could he not take the offer to sit at Jenny’s table when it was so nicely offered to him? Moreover, to decline would be very impolite. That’s what he told himself, anyway. Planting himself on the bench next to where a leaking can of oil was abandoned and setting his own lunch down on the surface, he questioned, “Wait, ‘manor’?”
“Well, y’know, it’s still the same homely house and all, but I gotta compete with Mr. Rich Guy somehow.” Brad smiled sheepishly and busied himself with taking a sip from his milk carton. “No matter how much I try to convince her, Jenny still thinks going out on a date with a snob is more important than hanging out with her friends. We’ve gotta show her that we’re worth at least twice what he is.”
“I’ve been trying to knock some sense into her since this morning, but she’s been ignoring me,” Sheldon admitted, swirling some of his mashed potatoes around with a plastic spork. He propped up his chin on his fist and watched Jenny while she ranted at his tormentor about the safety hazards of tripping other people. “As much as I hate to say it, I don’t think anything is going to distract her from her date tonight.”
“Nah, don’t say that. We just need to step it up a notch; that’s all.”
“Well, okay…” Inspired by the other teenager’s confidence, he eyed him hopefully. “What do you have in mind?”
Brad leaned over and elbowed him gently, nodding his head toward the approaching female robot. “I’ll take the lead on this one. I’m well-versed in The Persuasion of Jennifer Wakeman. You can be my wingman.”
“The nerve of some people!” Jenny exclaimed, irritated. She stomped back to her seat, but her sure steps stuttered when she realized that, in her haste to rescue Sheldon from an unceremonious tumble, she had dropped and spilled her oil. Moreover, the unpopular young man himself had taken the spot directly next to her soiled seat. It only took a few seconds of considering the awkward situation before she retrieved her partially empty beverage and ducked behind the far side of Brad instead, using him as a buffer.
“Always the shining example of today’s heroine. Well done, Jen,” Brad complimented, shielding his eyes against the unfortunate angle of fluorescent light being reflected into his eyes from her smooth outer shell. “So, me and Sheldon were just discussing what we’re all gonna do tonight at my place. He was just telling me all about this new video game, but I’m kinda in the mood for a game of the ‘board’ variety. What d’ya think?”
The robotic teenager groaned, obviously weary of their continued meddling in her personal affairs. Noticing her friend’s optical plight, she slightly shifted her position to alleviate it. “Do whatever you guys want to. You know that I’m busy tonight.”
“Well, let’s be busy together,” he suggested jovially. “C’mon, it’s Friday. We always make plans for Friday night. Can’t you reschedule?”
“No, I can’t reschedule a date with the most handsome and richest boy in school. That’s a great way to find myself crushed beneath the social ladder with Sh—um, with…” she faltered, eyeing Sheldon’s crestfallen expression from over Brad’s shoulder. “It’s the opposite of what I’d like to accomplish, is all I’m saying. I don’t need more ridicule from the popular crowd.”
“Then why don’t you get back at them for once?” Brad suggested, undeterred by the frustrated head shake Jenny gave him. “We can still go to Mezmer’s for some grub, but you can stand Don Prima up for us. It’d be hilarious; that’s the last thing he’d expect from a girl! Anyway, his pride can take a hit. Besides, I bet Sheldon can score us a discount with his sweet new hookup.”
Surprised, Sheldon glanced up at that. He only recently applied for part-time work at Mezmer’s and had been accepted as a waiter the day before. Ever since his failed ‘jealousy’ incident with Pteresa, he was in desperate need of funds to replenish what he all but threw at her. It was a thoughtless oversight on his part; without money, he couldn’t obtain some of the necessary, expensive parts for his inventions that weren’t found in the scrapyard. That was his usual source of income—selling the products of his labor that weren’t intended to be given away as gifts to the object of his infatuation. “What? How did you…”
The red-haired young man merely shrugged. “News travels fast in this town.”
“But… I just—”
“—I’m not going to stand Don Prima up,” the robotic teenager interjected through their side conversation. With a delicate frown, she crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes. “I wish you guys would trust me. I know it’s different this time—I can just feel it.”
“You’re feeling what you think you want to feel,” Sheldon muttered, aggressively impaling his last few green beans with his utensil, “and not what you should.”
“And who are you to say what I should feel, about anything?” she shot back. “You might think you know everything about me, but you don’t.”
He winced at her stab; would she ever truly forgive him for stealing her master plans? He couldn’t recall if he apologized for it, but he thought he did—not that he expected an apology to make up for the intrusion of her privacy. However, it was all he had to offer. “You know I’m sorry for that, Jenny.”
“‘Sorry’?” she echoed, leaning over Brad to glare at him. One of her arms shot forward and jabbed him in the chest, startling him. “Gosh, you’re so lucky there aren’t blueprints laying around about you! How would you feel if I examined every intimate inch of your body?”
Sheldon’s eyes popped wide open, and he pulled his hoodie tighter around himself. The ability to form a verbal response eluded him. How would he feel about that? Mortified, distressed, self-conscious, he thought, gulping against a thick lump in his throat. Blushing hotly, he was thoroughly aware of the thundering of his pulse in his ears. Excited…
“Whoa, Jen! Don’t let a teacher hear you sayin’ stuff like that,” the red-haired young man between them chastised. “You’ll get detention for sure.”
“I—I mean, wait, I… No!” Jenny stammered helplessly, shrinking back. Her eyes were wide, and her cheeks were dark blue with a simulated blush. “That came out wrong!”
The two embarrassed teenagers glanced away from each other while Brad snickered at their obvious mortification. He smiled lazily at both of them and, taking pity on them, he decided to change the subject. “So, we’ll see you at my place tonight, right?”
Jenny sighed, long and suffering. “Brad, I told you—”
“—Great!” he chirped. “I knew we’d see eye-to-optic on this.”
Glancing at the hanging clock across the room, Sheldon grudgingly decided it was time to head to his next class so he could fit in a little bit more studying before the scheduled exam. As much as he wanted to remain in his robotic interest’s presence, he decided it was probably best if he took his leave before more embarrassment could befall him. He moved his hand to his side, intending to push himself upright, but his fingers promptly slid through the slippery mess of oil he had forgotten about. His elbow buckled, and, with a short cry, he tumbled backward, knees still hooked over the edge of the bench. Spots of light exploded in front of his vision when his head connected with the hard tile, and, dazed, he heard Brad whistle lowly in sympathy at his contorted display.
“Sheldon!” Jenny exclaimed, slapping a hand over her exasperated features. This time, she made no move to help him to his feet and instead seemed as if she’d rather put distance between them. “You really need to be more careful.”
Biting his lip, Sheldon nodded and clumsily righted himself. Inwardly berating himself, he grabbed his lunch tray and fled as gracefully as he could manage. Despite his efforts, he still managed to stumble over the loose laces of one of his shoes and scatter a few unused napkins near the trashcan, and, on the way out, someone abruptly opened one of the cafeteria double doors, painfully smacking his face in the process. Pinching his red nose to stem any sort of bleeding, he scuttled through the hallway toward his locker. He usually preferred leaving lunch—or any of his classes, whenever possible—several minutes early so he could avoid the rush of students flooding the narrow hallways. Being shoved from every direction and having to wait for congregations of gossipers to disperse and allow him to reach his destination was detrimental to his mood.
With one hand, he unlocked his locker and retrieved the chemistry and mathematics books that he needed for his last few classes of the day. Tucking them under his arm and slamming the locker door shut, he ducked into the boys’ bathroom for a few moments to wipe the oil from his hand and then assess the damage done to his nose. Deeming it nothing more than tender to the touch and slightly swollen, he hurried across the hallway to the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time to the second floor. Just as the bell rang, signaling the end of the period, he skidded to a stop next to the doorway to his chemistry class. The door swung open, and the students spilled out, allowing him to squeeze inside and find his seat at one of the long tables in the front.
The teacher glanced at him in silent acknowledgement before going back to writing on the dry-erase board at the front of the room.
Storing his calculus book below his chair and cracking open the chemistry one on the surface of his table, he flipped through the pages, scanning the text until he found the chapter he knew the exam would be covering. He had studied extensively for all of the last week, of course, because it was a very important test that counted for half of his final grade, but he thought it prudent to refresh his memory on a few specifics. Chemistry wasn’t his best subject—nowhere near all forms of mathematics and robotics—but he was still very good at it.
“Nerd,” someone scoffed at his studious form, dropping into a chair somewhere behind Sheldon’s.
He steadily ignored the insult. After all, what was wrong with being a ‘nerd’? All it accused him of was that he cared about his education and had a rather active imagination. So what if he didn’t care about earning the fake and fickle affections of the school’s worst bullies through appearance and money alone? So what if he couldn’t? He didn’t need a plethora of backstabbing friends to feel secure about himself.
Could Don Prima invent useful gadgets with his own hard-earned skills and tools? Could he perform binary functions with only his mind? Did he even know what binary functions were? Of course not; it was far beyond his scope of possibility.
He might have spent many of his evenings dressed like a warlock of the ‘Arcane Order of the Abyssal Nexus’ to indulge in the occasional fantasy role-play—or devouring documentaries and fictional series featuring deep-space exploration—but he liked to think he had much more to offer than someone like Don Prima… or Sebastian, Travis, and any other cookie-cutter guys Jenny would inevitably date instead of Sheldon himself. He might not have had a jaw seemingly cut from calcified diamond or a body bulging with attractive bundles of fibrous tissue, but he was intelligent enough to hold an engaging conversation about the bounding effects of the heliopause on solar wind, at the same time as appreciating the advanced capabilities and higher functions of Jenny’s central circuitry and positronic brain.
Although he stared at his chemistry book for the five minutes before the exam, he hadn’t absorbed a word of it as his thoughts drifted further into more frivolous topics. However, it wouldn’t affect his grade at all; it would be a perfect score, he would later discover—as usual.
As self-assured about himself as he thought he was, what did a perfect score matter if Jenny nearly died of embarrassment every time he was near because of it? He had never been more conflicted, and he stressed over it all the way through chemistry and calculus and all the way to his home and, from there, the modest Carbunkle residence.
Well, I can lose myself in some board games with Brad and Tuck, he mused, ringing the doorbell and shifting his weight onto his other foot, and try to forget about Jenny making eyes at that thick-skulled jerk.
He tried to cheer himself up at the thought of spending time with the Carbunkle brothers, some of the few people who wanted to be his friends, but he couldn’t help but to acknowledge the pit burrowed in his heart. If Jenny had agreed to join them, he’d enjoy himself so much more; she always brightened any part of his life she stepped into. It was difficult to enjoy himself when he knew, without a doubt, that she was going to have her heart broken at the same time.
The urge to check on her date—and possibly do whatever he could to both ruin and save it—was powerful, and he very nearly decided to ditch his two male friends for it. However, before he could rush away, the door swung open, and Brad appeared before him, friendly and smiling as he always was.
“Wanna go see what Jenny’s up to?” the red-haired teenager slyly suggested before he could say a word. “Tuck’s got this after-school thing, so it’ll just be the two of us. Think of it as a covert rescue operation.”
I shouldn’t. Jenny will be angry, his rational mind warned. Sheldon had been conditioned to expect her anger whenever he interfered. She found his presence almost abhorrent when it was unrequested, and it would be doubly so when in the company of someone of the popular crowd of their school.
To him, there was only one logical answer—“Are you kidding? Let’s go!”