Morning everyone. It is time once again for the morning writing prompt. So lets set those timers for fifteen minutes and jump on into it.
I really like the dynamic between the two. Not sure how it will play out or what the main issues are between Mortimer and Walt but I kind of want to figure that out.
Friday, December 12th: I can’t give you another extension.
“I can’t give you another extension,” the words were said crisply.
Walt nodded. He knew this was coming. “I understand.”
Professor Tubbs relented. “I can take whatever you have ready and at least give you a score based on that. It won’t be a high score because it is incomplete, but it will be better than the nil you would have received otherwise.”
Walt felt a slight flicker of hope. He spent the night pulling together what he had into as professional a presentation as he could prior to this appointment in the hopes of showing he was close to completing the project. Now it might help.
He reached into his bag and took out the fat portfolio. “I’ve summarized what I have in the report at the front,” Walt explained and the rest is the data I am still collecting.”
The professor nodded and took the thick file. “I will look over it and grade accordingly.”
“Thank you,” Walt hoped his appreciation showed. He left the office with more hope than he had. He knew the incomplete project would not get full marks. He understood that. But if he could get just a few points then his grade wouldn’t bottom out. He might not fail the class. The grade would wreck his GPA but it wouldn’t be a fail.
At this point that was all he dared hope for.
“Throwing yourself on the mercy of the faculty?” A voice sneered.
Walt looked over. Mortimer was grinning at him. It was a decidedly unfriendly look. As Mortimer was the reason that Walt hadn’t managed to finish his project, he couldn’t even work up a polite smile. He turned away.
He heard the steps behind him and knew Mortimer was following. He would not be able to let it go. He had to follow, to triumph.
“So did you get an extension?” Mortimer asked.
“If I did are you going to sign out all the workstations until it expires as well?” Walt asked.
“Of course,” Mortimer said. “You don’t belong here, why should you use the facilities? They are here for real students like me to use.”
“Except you aren’t using them,” Walt pointed out. “You are signing them out so no one else can and then getting someone else to do your work elsewhere.”
He looked at Mortimer. His face grew tight.
“Oh,” Walt said. “Did you think no one knew you were paying someone at your father’s company to do your work in a private lab off campus?” Walt nodded. “Is that what real students do?”
Mortimer narrowed his eyes and grabbed Walt’s shoulder, stopping them both and spinning Walt to face him. Walt kept his expression mildly curious despite his hammering heart. Mortimer had a good foot and at least forty pounds on him. In addition, he spent at least three days a week in the boxing gym downtown. While the professionals laughed at him, Walt would still be an easy target.
“Is that what you told Tubbs?”
“I didn’t mention you at all,” Walt said. “Why would I? You aren’t that important.”
Mortimer let go of Walt’s shoulder. His cheeks were stained pink, his eyes still narrowed and nostrils flaring. Walt could practically see the twin desires of not wanting someone to find out what he had been up to and wanting to be important enough to be uppermost in everyone’s thoughts fighting it out in hs head.
“You just remember that no one likes a rat,” Mortimer said. “Keep your mouth shut and maybe I’ll let you finish your little project.”
Ten til Midnight 