Chapter Text
It had been a long time since Jimmy had been in a vehicle other than a tractor and it felt claustrophobic. The school bus - yellow, just like the movies - was empty and smelled like old shoes and diesel. I didn't even know it was legal to have gasoline-powered cars anymore...
Mother Elyse (and eventually Tamara, Cesar and Tom) was to thank for this confusing commute - she had gotten into several shouting matches with Father Dimitri about how his homeschooling and "peer education" wasn’t setting Jimmy up to succeed. Father Dimitri (and Anton, Joe, and Sophie) were in the camp that he didn’t need Basic Ed to learn how to steward the homestead. Cookie-cutter standardized education would only pull him away from his responsibilities.
Jimmy himself had been the tiebreaker. At 16 years old, it was perfect timing for him to enter Basic Ed’s tributary track - the governmental education program that culminated in aptitude tests and - for a select few - job lottery waivers. Not that he would need one of those. No matter what he learned or did, in 5 years he would wind up right back where he started. Or at least that was the concessional promise Jimmy had made when negotiating with his parents. Going to Basic Ed would give him a broader understanding of the world, and perhaps even teach him something about how to keep the Holden Estates afloat. He was proud of his logical decision-making process, and even though the house prickled with unspoken hostility in the weeks leading up to the new school year, he never wavered in his choice.
More so than logic or working toward the success of his family heirloom, Jimmy harbored a beautiful secret: he was going to escape this hell. He wasn’t sure exactly how or what he would do. But Basic Ed was the crack in the window he needed.
***
The novelty of the bus wore off quickly, and he rested his head on the shaking bus window letting the harsh acoustics rattle his teeth. He fingered the graffiti scratched into the back of the green fake leather seats, instead.
Donal Was Here
Kathy ’s mom is a DILF
,,,c====8
Unexpectedly a surge of anxiety washed over him. Will I make friends? Will the city kids think I’m a stupid country bumpkin? Maybe I am a stupid country bumpkin.
He had no idea what to expect, other than what he had seen in the movies and learned from his city-dwelling cousins. But he was fairly certain they were trying to trick him… surely there wouldn’t be 30 other kids in his classroom, or standardized testing or robot teachers or (least believably) pep rallies.
He scrolled his schedule on his terminal as the scenery shifted from forested to suburban to concrete. Abandoned buildings were replaced by the squat, sturdy architecture that so defined “downtown” Banksford.
- Trigonometry
- Biology
- History of The United Nations (2200 to present)
- Gen. Creativity (Req 1)
- Applied Physics
- Home Economics
Well, at least I know I will do good in some of these classes , he thought to himself.
The bus then turned a corner and he felt his breath catch in his throat.