New beginning, old scene {Sean}
Jul 16, 2012 19:01:39 GMT -5
Post by Justin Marshall on Jul 16, 2012 19:01:39 GMT -5
He’d stopped by the security office for a snack before his shift and couldn’t help but notice that the nameplates and interior décor of Hammel’s row of administrative offices had changed drastically since he’d attended as a student. He was relieved. He’d never been very good at academics, and he remembered begging to be passed through his sophomore English class in one of these offices. Now that many of the former staff had moved on, he wouldn’t have to worry about seeing them around. He would still feel sheepish about his mediocre grades and less-than-stellar behavior record.
One office, though, hadn’t changed. Justin was half convinced that Dr. Neville would be working at Hammel until the day he died. He shouldn’t be so surprised that the room looked just as he remembered, and the door still stood wide open to invite students inside. Justin briefly recalled his numerous visits here, remembering his fear and resentment when he first came to Hammel at the age of 13 and his contented resignation right before graduation. Once he’d gone five years without being betrayed by Dr. Neville, Justin relaxed and even started to grow fond of the psychiatrist. He always seemed to have a calming way of conversing or giving advice.
But it had been seven years since he’d left, and who knew what kind of changes had happened at Hammel since then? What would happen if they bumped into each other unexpectedly? What would be different now that this wasn’t going to be a teacher-student relationship? Not officially, anyway. Justin knew many graduates still came back here for the occasional session or chat. Though he knew and mildly feared that Dr. Neville’s telepathic power would probably soon uncover any of his newer feelings and secrets about his life since school, he felt it would be safer to just visit now. Dr. Neville would probably appreciate knowing about another returning student. That’s what Justin told himself, anyway.
Brushing the potato chip crumbs off of his polo shirt, and keeping his expression neutral, he knocked twice on the open door even though he knew it wasn’t really necessary to announce his presence around the accomplished telepath. Many of his social skills fell short of standard, but at least Justin knew how to be polite. ”Hello, Dr. Neville,” he announced. He had little doubt he would be recognized, even though since graduation he’d finally finished growing and had put on a few more pounds of muscle. His black uniform and the wired earpiece that currently dangled from his collar would probably explain much of the situation.
One office, though, hadn’t changed. Justin was half convinced that Dr. Neville would be working at Hammel until the day he died. He shouldn’t be so surprised that the room looked just as he remembered, and the door still stood wide open to invite students inside. Justin briefly recalled his numerous visits here, remembering his fear and resentment when he first came to Hammel at the age of 13 and his contented resignation right before graduation. Once he’d gone five years without being betrayed by Dr. Neville, Justin relaxed and even started to grow fond of the psychiatrist. He always seemed to have a calming way of conversing or giving advice.
But it had been seven years since he’d left, and who knew what kind of changes had happened at Hammel since then? What would happen if they bumped into each other unexpectedly? What would be different now that this wasn’t going to be a teacher-student relationship? Not officially, anyway. Justin knew many graduates still came back here for the occasional session or chat. Though he knew and mildly feared that Dr. Neville’s telepathic power would probably soon uncover any of his newer feelings and secrets about his life since school, he felt it would be safer to just visit now. Dr. Neville would probably appreciate knowing about another returning student. That’s what Justin told himself, anyway.
Brushing the potato chip crumbs off of his polo shirt, and keeping his expression neutral, he knocked twice on the open door even though he knew it wasn’t really necessary to announce his presence around the accomplished telepath. Many of his social skills fell short of standard, but at least Justin knew how to be polite. ”Hello, Dr. Neville,” he announced. He had little doubt he would be recognized, even though since graduation he’d finally finished growing and had put on a few more pounds of muscle. His black uniform and the wired earpiece that currently dangled from his collar would probably explain much of the situation.
