Prove Him Wrong

Xander

I pushed up my sunglasses and took a look in the mirror. One of the reasons the old goat didn’t like me was he felt I didn’t take life seriously enough. Maybe I didn’t. I thought judging a book by its cover was wrong. My hair was too long. I liked the shaggy look. I supposed I probably looked like one of the millions of surfers that hung out at the beach with light brown hair that hung in light layers just above my shoulders.

I dressed like a surfer, I supposed. It was my senior year of college. The dress standard depleted with each passing term. I was lucky to find clean clothes, or mostly clean. I didn’t give a shit whether I matched or if they were wrinkled.

I smirked as I used my fingers to comb my hair down. I could admit my lack of concern for my image was a direct insult to my dad and family that had sticks way too high up their asses. I was the proverbial black sheep and I didn’t care.

Putting off the inevitable wasn’t going to make it go away. I left the bathroom and walked the few feet down the hall to the class. I actually felt nervous. I shouldn’t feel nervous. If my professor was worth a shit, he would see I was onto something. Instead, the guy hated me. I was convinced he was intimidated by me. He didn’t want me to be successful.

“Mr. Holland,” the professor greeted me with a stern look on his face. “Are you here to turn in the final?”

I nodded and opened the messenger bag. I pulled out the black binder that contained the paper that would be the final piece of work turned in. “It’s right here.”

“I hope you changed course,” he murmured as he took it from me.

“I didn’t,” I said defiantly.

He scowled at me and flipped it open. The first page of the report was a mock-up of the ship I engineered. “I told you at the beginning this was not an acceptable project.”

“And I’m telling you the research is sound.”

“This shit will never work,” he snapped and tossed the binder on his desk without bothering to look at the research.

I looked behind me. There were a few students already seated. They were trying to hide their laughs. I was not the guy that was ever going to win Most Popular. I didn’t care. I trusted my work. I knew what I had, even if none of them could see it.  

“It will work,” I argued. “You just need to look at the research.”

He shook his head. “It’s assholes like you that think you are going to change the world because you are smarter than anyone else. Look at history and science. You won’t. This is a failing paper.”

I wasn’t going to win him over. I knew that. He wasn’t my target audience anyway. “That’s cool. I don’t need your grade anyway.”

He glared at me. If he could have put his hands on me, I was sure he would have. He wanted to shake me.

I smirked, daring him to do it.

“Punk kids like you will destroy our world,” he said.

I buttoned my bag. “Lucky for you, professor, punk kids like me can see into the future. We aren’t stuck in the past. We are what’s going to save your ass one day. You are a shitty professor and you are going to be the one destroying our world if you don’t pull your head out of your ass.”

“You are a low-life punk. You will never amount to anything. Maybe I’ll visit you on the dockyard one day. That’s where you’ll be, swabbing decks.”

I turned and walked out. I was done with his class. There was no reason for me to go back. He could teach me nothing new. I got what I needed—a passing grade. I earned my degree, no thanks to his ass. He could fuck off. I was going to prove him wrong. I was going to prove them all wrong.

Present Day

My tie was choking me. I hated wearing fucking ties. I didn’t let on that I was totally uncomfortable. I sipped from the crystal glass. It was only water. I was sticking to water for the night, at least until I got what I came for. Then, I was going home and having a stiff drink. Several stiff drinks.

“With that said,” the speaker said from his place at the front of the ballroom, “please, everyone, give our honored guest and Champions of the Earth award winner, Xander Holland, a big round of applause.”

Showtime. I got to my feet and tried to smile. I had a feeling it probably looked more like a grimace. I made my way up to the front to collect the plaque with my name emblazoned on it. I nodded at the audience that was still clapping and held up the plaque. “Thank you,” I said and walked away from the stage.

The room fell silent as I moved toward the room exit at the side. I didn’t stop going. I walked right out the door and got into my car. No one said I had to give a speech. I didn’t do speeches. I didn’t do public gatherings much at all. Over the years, the introvert thing appealed to me more and more. The older I got, the more I discovered I didn’t really like people.

I drove through the gates of what my one and only friend, Charlie, called my compound. It was my compound. It was my safe place with a very high fence all the way around the damn place. I liked my privacy. The fence and the always-locked gate were a symbol of how I lived my life. I kept everyone out.