A Physics Prodigy From Ukraine
1.
“Ryan!”
I opened my eyes and blinked a few times, drawing in a deep breath.
“Ryan!”
The room was dark. Curtains drawn shut.
Not that it made much difference.
The new winter mornings were practically night.
“Ryan!”
I didn’t want to get up today.
I could just lie here forever.
As if anyone would notice.
The door flew open with a bang and I closed my eyes again.
Mum marched across the room, grabbing my squealing alarm. I thought she was going to throw it at my head so I pressed my face into my pillow and prayed for a quick death.
“Ryan! Do you have any idea what time it is?!”
I didn’t.
But then, neither did I care.
“Ryan, look at me.”
Her voice was low.
She was angry.
It didn’t even sound like my name any more.
Perhaps it wasn’t.
Perhaps, just perhaps, I was Vladimir Kusov - a young physics prodigy from Ukraine.
Not Ryan.
Plain old Ryan.
I cracked open one eye and saw the clock mum had dumped on my pillow.
08:15.
I was late. Goddammit.
“You’re late. You’ll never get to Dr. Walker’s on time.”
Oh.
Mrs. Motivation was obviously in today.
I shrugged from the bed.
“Then I’ll just not go.”
“Ryan?”
Oh, here we go.
Why wouldn’t the woman just leave me alone?
“Better never than late.”
“Late than never, Ryan, and you know it. Go. They’re trying to help.”
No they weren’t.
They helped me like pigs fly.
“Mum…” I heard her pause, and the awkward silence as we both waited for me to find my words.
Finish the sentence.
I don’t want to go.
Pah.
As if she would care.
She leant in close, and I followed her progress with my one eye.
“Ryan - we all want to help. You can speak to anyone.”
Oh. Here it comes.
“Are you okay?”
I nearly laughed.
No.
I wanted to scream.
Of course I’m not okay.
Everything sucks, I thought, but I didn’t mention it.
“Yeah, I’m fine. More reason not to go.”
I heard an exasperated sigh as mum stomped away and yanked my curtains open.
Grey light filtered through the clouds.
How fitting, I mused, reading out for something clean to wear, knocking over a can of lemonade in the process.
I didn’t know I had it.
Good riddance.
I opened my eyes and blinked a few times, drawing in a deep breath.
“Ryan!”
The room was dark. Curtains drawn shut.
Not that it made much difference.
The new winter mornings were practically night.
“Ryan!”
I didn’t want to get up today.
I could just lie here forever.
As if anyone would notice.
The door flew open with a bang and I closed my eyes again.
Mum marched across the room, grabbing my squealing alarm. I thought she was going to throw it at my head so I pressed my face into my pillow and prayed for a quick death.
“Ryan! Do you have any idea what time it is?!”
I didn’t.
But then, neither did I care.
“Ryan, look at me.”
Her voice was low.
She was angry.
It didn’t even sound like my name any more.
Perhaps it wasn’t.
Perhaps, just perhaps, I was Vladimir Kusov - a young physics prodigy from Ukraine.
Not Ryan.
Plain old Ryan.
I cracked open one eye and saw the clock mum had dumped on my pillow.
08:15.
I was late. Goddammit.
“You’re late. You’ll never get to Dr. Walker’s on time.”
Oh.
Mrs. Motivation was obviously in today.
I shrugged from the bed.
“Then I’ll just not go.”
“Ryan?”
Oh, here we go.
Why wouldn’t the woman just leave me alone?
“Better never than late.”
“Late than never, Ryan, and you know it. Go. They’re trying to help.”
No they weren’t.
They helped me like pigs fly.
“Mum…” I heard her pause, and the awkward silence as we both waited for me to find my words.
Finish the sentence.
I don’t want to go.
Pah.
As if she would care.
She leant in close, and I followed her progress with my one eye.
“Ryan - we all want to help. You can speak to anyone.”
Oh. Here it comes.
“Are you okay?”
I nearly laughed.
No.
I wanted to scream.
Of course I’m not okay.
Everything sucks, I thought, but I didn’t mention it.
“Yeah, I’m fine. More reason not to go.”
I heard an exasperated sigh as mum stomped away and yanked my curtains open.
Grey light filtered through the clouds.
How fitting, I mused, reading out for something clean to wear, knocking over a can of lemonade in the process.
I didn’t know I had it.
Good riddance.