Chiron Academy

Chapter 28 Part 2: Achilles the Heel

Achilles, it turned out, was not been busy when Wyatt called on him in the gym. 

Wyatt found him in the little nook where they stored the loaner exercise equipment. The narrow space's walls were lined with metal racks stacked high with the school's different equipment: bins of basketballs and soccer balls, piles of jump ropes, and net bags full of boxing gloves. The space was so full of shelves in fact that there was barely any room to stand. The 'office' ended up being more of a narrow hallway with a computer at the end. Then again since the guy had been a substitute teacher for the last thirty years, this might be the closest he'd ever gotten.

The man sat in what a sign on the door optimistically called an 'Office' hunched in front of his computer patiently clicking away at a game of minesweeper. The man's bulky robot was clutched around the sleek wireless mouse. The man's face was racked with a look of intense concentration. Wyatt thought it would be easy it would be for the man to crush the mouse if he lost the game. Didn't the guy have anywhere to go in the evenings than playing such a stupid game? The dean had implied that Achilles couldn't even keep up on posting his grades online. And this was how he chose to spend his free time? 

The man didn't notice Wyatt's approach. His eyes were still glued to the monitor. Wyatt thought for a moment about leaving the man alone and going back to his bedroom, but he stopped the thought almost immediately. He had to get this resolved as soon as possible. He didn't have time to have everyone dawdle when he could get called at any time to bring the fight to Palmer Valdez.

Wyatt knocked his fist against the plain white wall.

Achilles really must not have heard Wyatt come in at all. Upon hearing the noise, he exploded upwards as if something had just bit him. His old metal folding chair added to the din by falling backward with a loud CLANG.

"Hohmygoshwhathe-" he blurted out, spinning around. "Oh. Hey, man. I didn't know you were there."

Obviously, Wyatt noted to himself.

The coach ran his hair over his short thinning hair (probably as a calming behavior, Wyatt figured) and grabbed his chair from off its side.

"Well, uh, what can I do for ya, man?" he said setting himself back into his seat.

"I need to talk to you about my grade."

"Oh, yeah. Fer sure, man," the man, said turning back to his computer.

Wyatt noted that it took the man a long moment to find the folder marked 'GRADES' on his desktop. What did it say when the teacher checked the grades so little that he even know where it was? Then again, maybe if the man had taken the time to cut down the absolute jungle of icons and shortcuts, he wouldn't have to spend five minutes just trying to find the one where he had put the actually important stuff. Luckily for Wyatt, the man finally managed to find the correct file.

"Remind me," Achilles asked while he waited for the program to load, "Your name is Will, right?"

Wyatt pursed his lips.

"It's Wyatt. Wyatt Hatch."

"Right, right. It's your squad leader that's William. I always get your guys' names confused."

The man silently typed a few more words (with two fingers, Wyatt noted) while Wyatt glanced around the small space. 

The small area of counter space that served as the desk held very little aside from the computer.  Aside from a solo cup full of pens, the only thing Wyatt could see was a loose picture of a small boy. The photo was small, only a few inches across. From the style, it looked like something from school picture day. The boy was smiling a dopey child's smile against a blue background. If Wyatt had to guess he was probably middle elementary, maybe eight or 9. The edges of the photo were worn as if they had been handled a lot.