Nick Bottom is absolutely on the top

ii

Meanwhile, Nick was already in class, engaged in a rather one-sided conversation with Mrs. Weisen.

"Ma'am, please, let me retake it, I swear I can do it, I can do it better than Will―!"

Mrs. Weisen hummed skeptically.

"I can! I swear!"

"Maybe," she said, finally turning around, "you should try doing it better with Will."

"Wait, what?!"

"Do you know what a tutor is, Mr. Bottom?"

"Sure. Someone related to the monarchs in the sixteenth and seventeenth century," Nick joked nervously.

"Tutor, as in, t-u-t-o-r. Not Tudor. And I'm not even sure that's right. You are a bright young man, Mr. Bottom. But you need someone to bring it out of you."

"But...why Will of all people?"

Squinting, Mrs. Weisen scrutinized him. "Because it's general knowledge that he's the smartest person in our class?"

"Augh. Fine." Nick snatched up his C- paper and stormed from the room, crashing into his brother as he stomped down the hall.

"Oh! Sorry, Nige!"

"It's fine. Hey, Nick? How do you get a girl's number? I asked Portia for her phone number, and she gave me a Bible," Nigel lamented.

"Well, what did you expect, with a dad like hers? She probably won't be able to marry you until she's thrice widowed."

"Nick! I didn't want to get married, jeez! I wanted a phone number, that's all! She's my friend! We like poetry!"

"All right. I'm sorry, Nige, calm down."

"It's fine. Sorry. See you later!" Nigel exclaimed suddenly, running off.

"O-oh, okay, bye?"

A few seconds later, the cause of Nigel's succinct departure became apparent. Will Shakespeare sauntered up to Nick, smirking. "Scuse me, Nicky, I've got to get to Mrs. Weisen's room."

"Hey. Drop the smug face, you're tutoring me," Nick spoke up, getting in Will's way.

"Pff. What? I've got better things to do. She wouldn't make me do that without asking me first."

"Well, why don't we see?" Nick suggested, gesticulating for Will to precede him. So he did, storming into the classroom.

"Mrs. Weisen, please tell me I'm not tutoring him," Will demanded in a loud tone, pointing an accusatory finger at Nick.

She turned around in her chair and spoke. "Oh, I'm sorry, will that conflict with your schedule?" Will looked on the verge of exploding with a 'yes!' until the teacher continued, "And would that make your writing harder, one less hour to work? It's not as if we give you time in school to do that too. And this would absolutely not benefit both of you..."

At least Will had a refute to that. "How could it be good for me, though? Nicky here needs help, yeah, but me?"

"See? This is a perfect example, Will. You're condescending, and―"

"I am not! And any rudeness towards Nick is completely precedented!" He exclaimed, causing Nick to start.

"How is it at all pre―"

"Listen to me, boys. Mr. Shakespeare, it's not just him. You may not be directly demeaning to others, but it's easy to see you view yourself as their superior, and that must be solved. And Mr. Bottom, you need academic support. Therefore, a group of teachers came to a consensus. You will meet in the library after school between three and four."

"Ma'am, my brother? What about―"

"Nice try, Mr. Bottom. Nigel rides the bus. And for transportation, you two will have to figure that out."

"I've got a car," Will spoke up reluctantly, his accent more pronounced in his mumble.

"Fun. So are we done, then, or...?"

"Yes. Well― I'll have you know, I expect a narrative written by you two in six weeks. And Will, I know your writing style and want both of you contributing. Now you can sit down. Class is starting, so...if you need your materials, go, and come back," Mrs. Weisen finished, turning around in her swivel chair to face her computer, on which her email inbox was pulled up. Nick shoved past Will and went to grab his things.