The Professor's Secret

8. A New Transgression

Somewhere along the way I was promoted to his "little assistant" – or so he told the scientists once we arrived at the Fossil lab, in order to let me through without having to answer too many questions. I shyly followed as he let himself in, leaving all the talking to him – I did, however, wonder what his excuse would be – or mine, for that matter – once I returned there the next day with Calem and the gang, and his colleges realized that I was nothing but a student, just like my friends.

After showing me around the big, white lab, Professor Sycamore wheeled me upstairs to his "improvised" office – A large space, equally white and cold looking, which had apparently been a storage room before. Apart from all the counters packed with tubes, glasses and bottled fluids, one large desk stood in the middle and some shelves spread across the walls with a handful of books filling them. A sofa turned to the window, probably serving as both rest space and sleeping bed, and, on the other wall, some complex machinery completed the picture of a mad scientist's lab; and though I looked their way in curiosity, I decided not to inquire after them: As soon as Sycamore opened the door to his office and ushered me in, he instantly disappeared behind his desk and left me to wander as I pleased. Now seated, he hurriedly ran through a mess of papers: urgent matters, for sure, that could not be interrupted by his babysitting a student so she wouldn't tell on him – I comically thought to myself, and resumed my careful paces around the lab.

"So... uhm... Anne..." He distractedly began.

I turned my head to see him, but his bright eyes had not left the paper. "What are they like... your friends?"

"They're... okay,"

It took him a while to realize I had answered him already.

"Uhum! Tell me more about them..." He pursued, his voice distant and dull. I unwillingly began, knowing he wasn't paying attention: He was planning to keep me talking in an attempt to hide the fact that he was too busy to mind me, I was sure. But how could I be mad? It was sweet of him to care, anyway... Or was that still his sweetness trying to buy my silence? I sighed.

"Calem is... competitive. As much as it gets, actually." I now looked into a glass with a green liquid inside, watching my own reflex "And Trevor is a nerd..."

I somehow fell into his trap, and when I realized it, I had been talking nonstop in some sort of confession about how I didn't share any of my friends' interests or enthusiasm in that journey – and if by intervals their hard work happened to inspire me, in times like these – when I was left alone to analyze it – the expectation buried me! I specially hated having to battle against them: I didn't want to do that! I didn't want to see who was better, and who was worst, lest someday I might end up last. I didn't want to be the outsider, the foreigner... because I was!

Charmander called me away by dropping something – I had decided to make it a general rule letting him out of his pokeball when Sycamore was near, so they could see each other again; and this time, after rubbing against the Professor's legs waiting for a pet in the head and receiving none from the busy man, he had gone about his business exploring the lab just as much as I had. I was distracted enough to lose track of him and now, looking over, he was hanging from the counter; his clumsy little arms barely holding his weight, dropping tubes and the likes to the floor as he strained to climb up.

"Oh crap! Hey, Charmander!!" I quickly grabbed him and dragged him away from his newly found toys. The angry creature began growling and biting on my arms trying to cut loose.

"Professor, I'm so sorry! I got distracted for a second and he just..." I looked gravely towards him.

But all Sycamore did was smile to himself, still looking at his papers, and just as he wasn't paying attention to me, he also didn't hear the sound of his experiments dropping to the floor and shattering into glass shards.