by: Bfboy | Complete Story | Last updated Jan 28, 2008
Andrew is an under-achieving high schooler, stuck between childhood and adulthood but he's about to get a chance to do it over again
Chapter Description: Andrew has a few problems at school, but there may be a radical solution. No regression in this chapter just setup and exposition,
Like my other stories this is set in New Zealand, this time in Napier. This will be a physical and mental regression story over a few chapters.
Morning light illuminated Andrew Baxter’s cluttered room as he packed his notebook and text books into his school bag. Andrew was still trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes, as he had barely gotten five hours rest the night before. Andrew was a procrastinator, he put off his schoolwork till the last possible moment, and recently, till it was past that. He had fully planned to start his history paper by 9PM but then he got caught up in a web chat with his mate, Mike, and soon it was midnight. Now Andrew was not only exhausted, he was also in deep trouble and he knew it. The paper turned out to be very complicated and it was nowhere near done. Mr. Lewis had warned him he couldn’t afford another late paper, and now the teacher was sure to issue Andrew’s mum and dad another warning report. Everytime this happened Andrew swore he would make it right next time, but he never followed through and his grades had finally begun to show it.
"Damn it all!" Andrew cursed as he turned over piles of dirty clothes and old papers, searching fruitlessly for a pen. Sure he could ask to borrow one from Rebecca, the blonde bombshell in Maths, that was a sure-fired way to get her attention. But seeming lost and disorganised was not the way to impress her. "Aha!" he exclaimed after finally locating a pen under an empty old pizza box.
A door slamming nearby caught Andrew’s attention and he quickly stepped to his bedroom window. Across the small side garden and a short hedge-row was the Harrisons’, their neighbours, house. At the moment Mrs. Harrison, a rotund red-headed woman, was standing on the front porch urging her children to hurry outside for school. Andrew watched silently while 10-year old Sean and 5-year old Jake came scurrying out the front door in their pine-green polo-shirts and black shorts, Jake heaving a Spiderman school bag on his back. A short line of primary school-children had arrived in front of the house lead by a couple mums who directed the local walking school-bus. Sean quickly joined his compatriots with little more than a wave to his mum, but Jake jumped up into her arms and gave her a great big hug while she pecked him with kisses. Andrew felt a deep sense of envy every morning when this happened. He couldn’t explain it but he really envied the fact that Jake felt no shame at giving his mum a hug in front of his buddies, that the little boy was so free. Jake hopped back onto the grass and ran off to join his mates, two little boys at the front of the line. The boy was smiling as wide as his little face could. Andrew envied that too, he couldn’t remember ever being that happy to go to school, that happy about much of anything really.
Finally awaking from his reverie Andrew realized that he needed to get going too or he’d be late to school yet again. Racing down the stairs to the kitchen he found his mum glaring at him angrilly while she washed a dish. "I called you down for breakfast a half-hour ago, I don’t want to hear one word about it being too cold! Honestly Andrew, it would be nice to have you eat a real breakfast at least now and then," she lectured, sternly.
"Sorry mum, I promise I’ll be down when you call tomorrow, I didn’t sleep well last night," he apologised.
Mrs. Baxter chuckled to herself, "I wonder why. Did you finish that paper you had due?"
"Yes," Andrew lied.
Andrew held his breath and tried his best to look confident as his mum gave him a long appraising look, as though she were a human lie-detector. "All right then, grab the toast, cold as it is, and get going, you’ll be late again."
The only good part of school these days was getting there, because now that Andrew was fifteen years old, he was allowed to drive. Unfortunately he still had to have that giant ’L’ for Learner emblazoned on the rear window for a few more months. Since he was an only child his parents had given him the use of their old car, a black 1993 Toyota Corolla. The worst part was that it was a stick shift and they lived in a very hilly city. Getting in the driver seat always felt good, as far as he was concerned, nothing was more exciting than being in control of a car.
Andrew strapped on his school sandals. He always left them in the car because the were the ugliest sandals in existence and he wore them only for school. They were still preferable to the black shoes and knee socks worn by some kids, mostly the very unpopular ones. They were necessary sometimes in the winter, but to continue wearing knee-socks in the summer was the height of uncool.
Finally with everything set Andrew was on his way to Napier High School. Napier was the sunshine capital of New Zealand as well as a major wine-producing region, the combination made it a very wealthy and desirable place to live. But to Andrew the novelty had worn off long ago. As a little kid he had loved his home town because it had the national aquarium and a big water-park as well as endless beaches. But now he was older, and silly children’s attractions no longer satisfied him. Andrew yearned for the cool night-life of Wellington or Sydney or perhaps even London. But as he drove down the winding hill-side streets toward the CBD passing smiling, playing primary schoolers, he couldn’t help but wish he was allowed to play like them, to still enjoy going to the aquarium and water-park. Andrew felt a lot like the protagonist in the book Mrs. Webber made them read last month, "Catcher in the Rye." Just like Holden Caulfield, Andrew felt torn between childhood and adulthood.
Andrew manouvered his Corolla around the scores of beaten up old imports that filled the student carpark, looking desperately for a space. It was 8:43 according to his radio clock, but was that accurate? He wasn’t sure. If it was, he only had two minutes to make it to home room! Finally Andrew squeezed the car between and old Subaru and a Holden. The space was so tight he could barely get out. But as soon as he was free he took off sprinting for the school. He never wore a watch, it was always uncomfortable on his arm, but he was concerned by the lack of students milling about, he had to be late.
A bald little man in a green shirt and yellow tie looked up irritably as Andrew tried to sneak into the back of the classroom. "Andrew Baxter, you are late again. That is five times this term and its hardly March, sir." the teacher reprimanded.
Andrew blushed as every eye in the classroom fell on him, someone in the front snickered. "Sorry Mr. Janson, I had car trouble." he tried.
Mr. Janson was unconvinced. "Car trouble again, eh? Perhaps you should ask Miss Reid for some driving tips as this is the fifth time car difficulty has made you tardy."
Andrew took his seat quietly, Jessica Reid had to be the biggest airhead in the class, making Mr. Janson’s little jibe sting all the more.
The rest of the day seemed to follow the same pattern. The pen he had searched so much for somehow disappeared after French class and he had to ask a teacher for another one earning another disappointed look from a teacher. At lunch his best mate, Mike, was off trying to get a date with some girl named Debbie or Dana or something. All that mattered was Andrew spent lunch alone. Whatever happened to mates before girls. And speaking of girls Rebecca continued to act friendly towards him in Maths but not like she was really interested in him. Or was she? Andrew just wasn’t sure. Finally in history Andrew’s worst fears were realized when Mr. Lewis decided to individually check each student’s assigment. Andrew had hoped the teacher would just have them pass the papers up to the front. Mr. Lewis frowned and shook his head at Andrew. "You haven’t finished it have you?"
"I’m nearly done, I just need one more day, you see I had a maths assignment due today as well and it took longer than I thought and well I..." Andrew attempted to bluff.
"I don’t want to hear it Andrew, no more excuses, see me after class please," Mr. Lewis said in a calm but clearly disappointed tone.
After class Mr. Lewis simply looked through his gradebook while Andre stoo waiting. Finally the teacher looked up and handed him a handwritten note. "This is for your parents, I will also be calling them personally to discuss this with them. I cannot allow you to do absolutely no work and not fail this course. The first term ends in April and I will fail you for it. If you don’t improve soon I will fail you for the year."
Andrew could tell this was not a time for discussion or excuses so he took the note and put it in his bag. The school-day was over so it was time for something a little less stress-full, Soccer. Andrew played for the school’s under-16 league against the other Hawke’s Bay area high schools. Today was just practice but it would be a great way to forget his problems for a an hour. It was good to get out of the school-shirt and shorts as well and into his loose athletic shorts and blue t-shirt. He was careful to get changed in the toilet stall rather than in the locker room, he certainly didn’t want anyone seeing his private parts, that was probably his worst nightmare, having his school-mates see him naked. Andrew laced up his cleats and did up the shin-guards, then pulled his red socks up to just below the knee. He’d seen little kids foolishly pulling their socks all the way up over their knees till they looked like tights, but that had to be the dorkiest thing a high school kid could do.
An hour of running drills later and Andrew felt reinvigorated. He was dripping with sweat and breathing hard but he never felt better than after a hard practice. Andrew changed into street clothes, stripping off the soccer socks in favour of a pair of jandals. Two of the Maori boys, Pete and Adrian always went barefoot after practice but that just wasn’t for Andrew. He couldn’t manage the clutch in his car that way and it just looked too juvenile, Andrew always felt he looked twelve or thirteen when he went barefoot because primary-schoolers didn’t have to wear school shoes or sandals. Andrew wanted to look as old as possible, in another year he thought he might be able to pass for 18 and be able to get into pubs.
As soon as he arrived home, Andrew knew Mr. Lewis had already made his call. His mum was sitting on the couch looking cross. "So, did your assignment did you?" she asked accusingly.
Andrew felt guilt tear at his stomach. "Well I really thought I’d gotten it done mum..."
"Andrew do you know how much it hurts when you lie to us. When you lie right to my face."
"I know, I know, I shouldn’t have done it, but I wasn’t trying to hurt you."
His mum waved her hand to stop him. "Just go to your room and do your homework, we’ll talk more when your father gets home."
Andrew went upstairs and went to work on his work, he firgured things might be smoother if he could show them some finished work. He heard hs father get home and intense discussion downstairs but did his best not to hear it. He hated hearing his parents talk about him. He stared intently at the movie posters that covered his wall and tried not to think of what was coming.
"Andrew, come down here, we need to talk to you!" his mum finally called up the stairs.
Andrew nervously cracked open his door and tip-toed down the stairs. He could feel the tension in the atmosphere as if it were a tangible object. His dad was sitting in the easy-chair drinking a large glass of red wine, his tie loosened, top button undone, shoes off. He looked like it was he who had been through the wringer today. Andrew noticed that his mum, however, seemed totally different, her whole demeanor had changed. She seemed somehow relieved.
"Hello dear," she welcomed him calmly. "Now your dad and I have talked this through very thoroughly and we have decided that you will be grounded for the next three weeks and we wil supervise all your homework and studying at the kitchen table. Also we want you to learn a little more responsibility so you will be doing some more chores around the house and tonight you will be babysitting for the Harrisons because their regular baby-sitter can’t make it."
Andrew ad expected the grounding, but the babysitting job was from out of nowhere. But what else could he do but agree. He didn’t really know the Harrison boys, he’d never really talked to them before, though he had watched them play in their garden and on the street. They seemed like good kids, so it couldn’t be too hard. Andrew nodded to indicate he agreed.
"Good, get your books to study then, I want you to head over there right now," Mrs. Baxter instructed.
Jane Baxter watched as Andrew headed down the footpath to the neighbour’s house, dressed in his soccer t-shirt, baggy board shorts and jandals, carrying his heavy school-bag with him. She watched him closely until he disappeared out of sight.
"Do you really think this is the right thing to do?" Jim Baxter asked as he finished his second glass of wine.
Jane turned to face her husband. "Yes Jim, I know it is. The boy’s grades have been in trouble a long time now Jim, this call was just the last straw. Besides you’ve seen how unhappy he is."
Jim shook his head, "He’s fifteen, that’s just the way they are. He’ll get over it."
"No, they don’t all ’get over it’ Jim. Don’t you remember the Thomas’ boy up the road, did he get over it?" Jane reminded her huband.
"But that was drugs honey."
"And how are you so certain our son hasn’t started doing drugs. He’s on the wrong path Jim, you know it. This is best for everyone."
Seeing that Jim still looked unconvinced and was pouring himself a third glass of wine, Jane took a new tack. "Look dear, have you seen the way Andrew looks at the neighbour kids, or the kids at the aquarium or the beach. He envies them Jim you can see it in his eyes, he wishes he was still a kid. Remember how he tried to act so mature all the time, so manly and older. He regretts that now."
"A lot of teens feel like that, a lot of adults too." Jim interjected.
"Yes but we have a chance to rectify that. Remember it’s really still up to him Jim. If he really doesn’t want to go back and fix things then nothing will happen to him, he has to start the process himself," Jane insisted.
Jim looked at the maternal glow in his wife’s eyes at the idea of getting her little boy back. No, she never wanted him to grow up in the first place. But what could be done, Jim had made his choice, it was all up to Andrew now.
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by: Bfboy | Complete Story | Last updated Jan 28, 2008
Stories of Age/Time Transformation