Broken Lullaby ▷ Tony Stark | ✓

35 - THE PROJECT

THE FIFTH GRADE CLASSES ALL CONVENED TOGETHER IN ONE ROOM, WHICH USUALLY MEANT BUSINESS. Remy waded through the sea of people, trying to find a seat on the floor, when he felt an hand grasp his arm and tug him down, finding himself sitting right next to Marc who gave him a smile before turning back towards the front.

In the time since Valentine's Day, life had returned back to normal in terms of Remy's school life. He tended to spend all his time on the field with Marc, talking and searching for ladybugs. Occasionally, they would be invited to a basketball game, but not as frequently as they once had, as there were new people to play with and Marc wasn't always eager to put himself out there as a contender.

So Remy sat next to Marc, sighing heavily and fidgeting as he waited for the teachers to get everyone quiet so he could figure out what was so important. 

"What do you think it is?" he asked, supplying to the noise despite himself, because neither he nor Marc were speaking and it was making him itch.

"I don't know," the boy replied softly, "We should just be quiet and wait."

Marc never spoke in a suggestive tone, never trying to coax Remy into doing something, whether he be kind or rude about it, because he was either just simply kind, truly reserved to the point of near indifference, or just simply didn't know how. Certain kids their age knew how, but it wasn't to say that all the ten-year-olds were as adept as Remy was.

Remy was a very smart boy, but with the learning disability like his, it made it difficult for people to see past his grades and actions in class. That didn't bother him as much as it would later on; and it already bothered him.

By the time everyone was finally ready to listen, Remy was already half asleep against Marc's arm, quickly slipping from consciousness, and while he was listening, he would hear words from one second, then come back to an entirely new topic of conversation.

It wasn't until he heard the two words that he woke up.

"—DNA test—"

He bolted upright, staring at the teachers in abject horror. It was such a strong reaction that they all saw him within the sea of students, pausing and giving each other worried looks. Some of the students turned to look around, catching sight of him, because that's just how perceptive young children were.

The teachers had every right reason to be worried. The last time they had done this project, Remy had lost a father.

Shaking off the pause, they continued their explanation, going back to summarizing the familiar project that almost all of them remembered, except they were going to be delving much deeper into it than they had back in the fourth grade.

"So, you'll be making your family trees the same way you did last year, except they'll be bigger and we'll display them all along your homerooms," they explained, motioning towards the walls of the room for emphasis, "But you also need to write a report for the family tree project, which we will be focusing on in English class and History. You'll need to write one for your DNA test, which we'll be covering in English and Science class. And, also, you're going to have a hero report, where you talk about a family member or a close family friend who is a hero to you, and we'll be going over that in English as well. These projects will be worked on until our open house, where your parents will come in and we'll present to them and all the classes will be inside one room for presentations, it'll just be a lot of fun."

As students raised their hands for questions, Remy couldn't help but feel incredibly sick. This was much, much worse than what they had to do last year.

Last year, and like what he figured it would be this year, the DNA test had mainly been a way to show how science had advanced and understanding the basics of DNA in the first place, but had led to his family discovering a very interesting aspect about himself.

He wasn't Mark's biological son.

It had taken him almost a year to finally understand why Mark had been so upset, the implications of him not being his biological son meaning, but it left him with a sick stomach every time he thought about it.

There had also been a family tree project, on a much smaller scale than what they were suggesting now, which would most likely entail much more background research, and he had done most of it, but after what had happened, he had been exempt from both projects, the teachers feeling awful for Remy's ruined Winter Break when he and his family had finally decided to open the results on New Year's Day, before school started and the last of the project was to be finished.

He was starting to feel his stomach churning painfully, his head spinning as he struggled to breathe, the panic settling in as he remembered everything that happened, the pain, the confusion, the panic. His head was pounding and his small frame couldn't handle the lack of oxygen, nor the incredible pain coming from all the stress that was quickly consuming him, and he was incredibly glad to be leaning against Marc, or else he wasn't sure what he would happen. But he was getting incredibly sick.

Marc knew the story already and, catching sight of the boy's expression, jumped to his feet, ushering him out of his room without much notice or fuss, Ms. Kimberly nodding towards him with concern and worry etched on her features.

The boys made it to the bathroom just in time, Marc standing behind Remy as the boy dropped to his knees and threw up, his small body heaving and shaking with the force.

Marc rubbed Remy's back as he threw up, glancing back towards Ms. Kimberly who had slipped out of the classroom and went to go check on them, gasping when she found the state that Remy was in. By the time he had finished, he was drenched in sweat, his hair matted to his forehead and his shirt sticking to his body.

"Remy..." she said softly, "We can find you an alternate project to do, you don't need to do this."

He shook his head. "Some of the kids don't live with their parents, who cares if I only live with one?"

She gave him a sad shake of her head. "That's not what I mean, sweetheart..."

"I want to do the project," he said through gritted teeth, "I just wanna be like everyone else, it'll make my mom happy. I don't wanna have to tell her that I'm not gonna do this project. It's healing, or whatever."

Ms. Kimberly looked over at Marc, hoping he would do something to convince the boy, but he simply looked down at Remy. "You want to do this?"

Remy took a deep breath and nodded, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Like I said, it'll be healing. Or whatever."

Marc looked over to Ms. Kimberly, shrugging. "He says it'll be healing. Or whatever."

Remy burst into a fit of giggles despite himself, his smile faltering as he sighed. His mom is not going to like this.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

We are a lot closer to the end than I expected, though I might throw in some filler chapters between a few of the main ones, make sure that we're all cool, so yeah, be prepared, we're already nearing the end, it's super whack.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!