By Gen X
Dick Grayson sat with his head in his hand listening as his teacher droned on about isoceles triangles and proof theroms. It wasn't like he didn't want to pay attention. Saturday night was a killer, dashing all about Gotham, even engaging in fisticuffs. As it was he had a bruised arm. Sunday had been spent cleaning his room, which had been in what Alfred called 'a disaturous state'.
So he sat in math class, looking bored and tired. He wanted to pay attention, even though there was really no point. I already know how to do this, he reasoned to himself. With all self assuring statements, his teacher Mr. O'hara, chose that moment to test Dick's theory.
"Mr. Grayson, by what means to we prove the two trianges congruent?"
"The side-angle-side postuleum," Dick replied boredly without looking up. Mr. O'hara frowned slighty before turning his back to the board and scribbling "SAS" on it, continuing with his lesson. The bell rang just as Mr. O'hara was going over the angle-side-angle method. The students were filing out when O'hara said in the voice only teachers and parents can use, "Mr. Grayson I'd like to see you after class."
Dick sighed, picked up his geometry book and walked towards the front desk. He stopped in front, studying his shoes or the floor or something in order to avoid O'hara's gaze.
"I appreciate when my students look at me when I call on them. Look at me son."
Dick's head chirped up. "Sorry Mr. O'hara, I'll try to pay more attention next time."
"No problem. Can't have my best student disinterested." O'hara remarked.
Dick reached up and pushed an errant strand of hair away, his sleeve falling away from his arm as he did so, exposing the bruised flesh. He quickly dropped his hand, the oversized sweater sleeve falling back down.
"That's a nasty bruise son."
"Oh, that. It was a bad game of pick-up after school. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got nailed into the fence."
"You should put some ice on it," O'hara was the baseball coach.
"I did that, it doesn't hurt any more."
The bell rang to signal the beginning of the next class.
"Sorry about that," O'hara fumbled to write out a pass and handed it over. "There you go, and remember watch your back on the basketball courts. Try baseball! It's safer."
"I'll think about that, bye."
.to be continued.