"Ahh, Mister Anderson," Mr. Buckingham said as Todd entered the room, the man's silvery southern drawl draping over every word. "My last meeting of the evening. I hope you don't mind, but, from where I'm sitting, that calls for celebration."
As usual, he was seated behind his large black desk. Todd had been in the room just that morning and the room still had the immaculate cleanliness it always had. The only thing out of place at the moment was a few loose papers stacked close to him on the desk, but even they have carried the same sense of order as the rest of the room: small piles at an exact angle square with the desk.
He was dressed, as always, in a full suit. Today's was a black suit, the jacket off placed over the chair behind him. Around his neck was a red and gold striped tie. His American flag pin on his lapel glinted in the white light from the iridescent bulbs in the ceiling.
The director let out a slow, tired breath as he pushed the laptop he had been typing away on when Todd had entered away from him.
"I don't know about you, Todd," he said," but I am more tired than a barrel of oil at a Goodyear factory. And since we were at the same meeting at 6 this morning, I have a strong suspicion that you're probably just as tired as I am. Just before you came in, I almost accidentally forwarded an email originally meant for my mother to the president of the United States. I'm going to guess you're not doing much better. Tell me: how are you holding up?"
"Fine," Todd answered, reflexively.
The older man scoffed, looking him up and down over the reading glasses he wore.
"Liar," the man said, smiling. "You look like something a drunk cat would drag into the house. Honestly, how are you doing? I know the schedule you've been running is be tough. I'm sure if you were a robot with no thoughts or feelings, the schedule wouldn't bother you at all. But you're a person and people struggle. It's completely natural. Level with me."
Todd ran his hand over his face in a weary effort to trick his brain into waking up.
"I'm..." he admitted, "pretty tired, honestly. It's been a really long day."
"Yeah, it has!" Mr. Buckingham agreed. "It's been more than 12 hours that you've been going nonstop. And honestly, you've been doing fantastic."
He rose from the desk and crossed to where Todd still stood just outside the doorway (Miz Krebbs had given him a lecture about lurking in doorways), patting Todd warmly on the back.
"I'm very proud of how you've done with the job so far, Todd. Every day you prove that there is really no one I could have chosen for this job but you."
Todd couldn't help but smile. Somehow he'd gone from a small-time vigilante to being propelled to the top upper echelons of the teen hero world. And Mr. Buckingham was complimenting the job he was doing! Todd could almost feel himself swelling with pride.
"I know that I've been running you ragged," Mr. Buckingham said, "with all of these meetings and interviews. I know I've loaded a lot of stuff on you. What can I do for you? How can I help?"
"I'm fine. We can go on with the meeting. I know you said this morning that-"
"The things we had planned to talk about tonight can wait till tomorrow. I won't lose any sleep if the school hasn't nailed down every detail for the field trip next month before midnight, whereas if our squad commander burns out, we'll be out of luck. How are you doing?
"I'm fine," Todd repeated with a shrug.
Mr. Buckingham almost immediately raised an eyebrow and tilted his head askance.
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Chiron Academy
AdventureIn a world of superheroes, public outcry from the recent tragic death of a teenage vigilante has resulted in the creation of a government-run program to train underage aged superheroes, Chiron Academy. If you're a minor with any sort of superhero...