After admitting his goal to his father, life became much more adaptable to his needs. Now that he had his father's support, though, with some criticism, he was able to move much more efficiently and make requests for items that we're more beyond the 'norm'.
While his father was accepting, Elizabeth was definitely against the idea of her child setting his goal to be a basketball player. She knew the statistics, his chances were slim at best, and that 'slim' chance grew worse with every passing year as the expectations for the players grew, and as such, so did the competition.
For that reason, she demanded that he put forth time towards studying along with his other routines; he had no choice but to comply. However, he wasn't an idiot. Thus he studied well into high school level before he'd even entered middle school; in fact, if given more time...or overbearingness from his mother, Mathias could have been attempting to take a go at the college level curriculum well before the first day of school, which happened to be today.
"If you have any problems, you let me know, okay? Don't hesitate to call."
"I know mom, it'll be fine."
"O-Okay. Be safe, sweetheart. I love you."
"Love you too."
Turning towards his dad, they both gave a nod of reassurance before he jogged off, directly into the school bus, shaking his head as he took a seat. Mathias would have much rather take the three-mile jog to school, however, his parents forced him to take the bus; well, his mother forced his father to force him to take the bus.
On the bus, Mathias took some time to judge his peers, having mostly kept away from his age group up to now. It was weird. While he had the body of a child, his mind had already aged well past fifty; so it felt as though the authorities could charge him at any second while he was surrounded by these children, and he had to go through four years of being surrounded by pre-teens. As he was judging them, his peers we're also judging him. His toned body showing through his shirt, at such a young age, even the children thought it was a bit odd.
It wasn't all anxiety, and judging, however. As the bell rung to go to the next class, Mathias having made it to school without being hassled by authorities, he checked his schedule and immediately lit up. "Physical Education!" Giving a shout that startled his nearby fellow students, Mathias rushed off to the gym.
Once there, the vastness of the gymnasium simply astounded him; well, it wasn't truly that large, merely being big enough to hold a normal court along with some extra room for basic bleachers and the sort, that didn't matter at all as Mathias along with other entering students began to gaze in wonder.
His admiration was sadly cut short as he was pushed to the side like some kind of inanimate object.
"Move it, move it. Upperclassmen comin' through." Accompanying the voice was a group of kids about a foot or so taller than most of the other kids around barging their way into the gym.
As the others watched passively, Mathias included, he could hear one of the children around him whisper. "They're part of the basketball team..."
This forced an eyebrow to raise out of the young Mathias as he gauged the players entering the gymnasium. "Maybe I over-prepared physically." All of the kids seemed to be much less physically fit than he'd imagined. In fact, they all could be considered preposterously weak in the young boy's eyes; however, he wasn't a fool to think basketball came just down to physique, they surely had something he'd yet to touch on, skill.
As such, he intended to bridge the skill gap starting now. Following behind the players, Mathias would come up to a rack of basketballs and pick one of the few remaining ones; however, just as he touched the ball, a loud whistle pierced his eardrums.
"Put that ball down! Now!"
Turning to the source of the yelling, Mathias caught sight of a plump man stomping into the gymnasium, whistle hanging around his neck.
"Boy, these balls ain't for you to put your little hands on! This is for the team, the real players! Go and get on the bleachers or something. Just stay out the way!" Beads of sweat formed on the plump man's forehead as he yelled at Mathias, who gave no more than an emotionless stare; even with the snickering of the players off in the distance.
"So be it." Calmly placing the ball on the rack, Mathias made his way over to the bleachers and sat, watching the young ballers like a hawk.
"Alright, rams! Get to practice! Drills, drills, drills!" Yelling at the top of his lungs, the plump man commanded the players and they performed like puppets running a multitude of drills focusing on their dribbling and shooting, unaware of the surveying boy sitting not too far off.
"This is gonna be a long four years," Mathias spoke, giving a minuscule shake of the head.
"You can say that again."
"Hm?" Turning to the voice, Mathias caught sight of a red-headed boy sitting just a seat above him.
"Hey. Names Rudolph, nice ta meetcha."
"Mathias."
Sliding a seat down so that he was beside Mathias, Rudolph gave a toothy grin. "First Mathias I've ever met, nice."
"Heh, same here Rudolph." Well, at least in this life.
"Sweeeet! We're firsties. Don'tcha forget it."
"Sure, sure, haha."
"Mm, dat dude ova' dere sure is a jerk, eh?"
"You could say that; yeah."
"Ooo, why I'd give 'em one a' dem's and one a' dose and a-," while speaking, the red-headed boy swung his fist around comically as though shadow-boxing the teacher into a pulpy mess.
Mathias couldn't help but chuckle at the sight. "Easy Quirinus, you don't wanna put him in a hospital."
"Quirinus, what's that?" Rudolph looked at Mathias with puzzlement.
"Oh, eh, just a person who likes to fight." And also the holder of both the IBA's welterweight and DBF welterweight titles, but that doesn't happen for at least another twenty years! Wait. Mathias slapped his forehead.
"'Ey, Mat. I's not good to hurt yo self."
"Yeah, you're right. I just remembered something important, won't happen again, ha."
"Mm, good."
Once the bell rung, signaling the end of the period, Mathias and Rudolph went their separate ways, though they soon found out they had a couple of other classes together, along with lunch.
While Mathias was initially apprehensive in considering a seven-year-old his friend, the red-headed boy eventually grew on him. As he got to know him, Mathias learned Rudolph was interested in basketball too and wanted to play. In fact, he was right behind Mathias as he was about to get a ball but 'tactically retreated' away just as the beer-bellied man began his shouting contest exercise.
Since the two grew close, Mathias figured he'd help the kid out, showing Rudolph his workout routine; though with some later adjustments as he didn't account for the fact that Rudolph hadn't attempted to start trying to work his body from a year old, like himself.
Oddly, it didn't take long for the kid to start showing results; a testament to his tenacity as it showed he didn't slack off at home. Though, Rudolph surely had to be facing the same plights that he did in regards to his parents that he did.
"Hey, Rudolph, how are your parents taking you working so hard?" Mathias sat opposite the red-headed boy who'd taken a liking in admiring his muscular growth.
"Hm?" Rudolph stopped admiring his biceps for a moment and turned his attention to his brown-skinned friend.
"I mean, aren't your parents worried about you suddenly working out so hard? It's a bit odd, considering, right?"
"Oh. Ha, nah. My folks don't care. Pops is super happy to see me workin' out. Says 'it's da soulja boy genes' comin' out."
"Ah, your dad was in the army."
"Yup, yup!"
"Hm, good."
Not too long after they spoke, the bell rung signaling for lunch to end and for them to return back to class, so they lined up in front of their respective teachers and marched onward.