Ace's father was a former soldier in the Defense Program. He now worked at Slater Academy as a professor of history. Ace was completely different from his father.
He was not smart or well spoken like his father, Tyreceus. He couldn't remember things very well, while Tyreceus could remember what he ate for breakfast six years ago, and even what the weather was like.
They did not even look alike.
The only trait they seemed to share in common, was a similar sounding voice, and blue eyes. Tyreceus' blue eyes were an abnormality with his dark skin and curly hair, while Ace's pale skin, red eyes, and blue hair made it easier for him to fit in as a foreigner.
Tyreceus glared at his son as he interrupted his lesson. Ace sat down in his assigned seat, in a quiet room, as everyone snickered at him.
Ace shifted uncomfortably in his seat, surrounded by people a year younger than him, having to retake a history class while his father was a history professor.
He wasn't allowed to take his father's class last year because they were afraid he would get better treatment. They doubted there was a way he would get more than a C unless his father helped him or he cheated.
Soon the faculty realized that Ace was too dumb to even cheat, so they placed him in his father's class the next year.
Ace tried to pay attention as his father spoke, but soon he started to tune him out, more concerned with his life outside of class. He was upset that he wasn't named First Cadet, and he would forever be limited because of his common ability: teleportation.
Ace was so zoned out that he did not notice his father call on him.
He didn't say anything until Tyreceus stared him down in front of his desk, placed purposefully at the front row.
"You're staying after class," he hissed.
Ace nodded quickly, not wanting to anger his father. He fumbled with the bracelet on his wrist and avoided eye contact until Tyreceus went back to continuing the lesson.
Once class had ended Tyreceus locked the door and it was just him and Ace.
The classroom was quite old, and it felt quite drab with no windows and only fluorescent lights. A small poster with a cat hanging on a branch said "Hang In There!", as if to mock Ace's distress.
Tyreceus sat on top of his desk and let out a long groan.
"Why are you late when you can teleport to anywhere you've been, or places you've seen pictures of," his father demanded. "Do you purposefully try to embarrass me? Yourself?"
Ace mumbled something incoherently as he stared at the ground.
"Speak up," Tyreceus sighed.
"I just can't remember things," Ace mumbled. "I'm sorry."
Tyreceus' anger turned into shame and guilt.
It's my fault he can't remember a single thing, he thought. I should go easier on him.
Ace had the body of a grown man but still didn't act like it. He was five feet eleven inches tall but he still was preoccupied with the fact that he wasn't six feet tall.
"Just go to the next class," Tyreceus mumbled. "I'll give you extra credit or something." Ace grinned, knowing that he was given another chance for simply pouting and sulking.
I should try that more often, Ace thought.
"If you're late tomorrow it doesn't count," his father said coolly.
Ace balked and simply disappeared, off to his next class.
Tyreceus tried to relax but he knew in a few minutes his next class would come in. He was simply too preoccupied about the fact that his son would soon leave him, that he was wholly unprepared for the world because he had spoiled him too much.
His guilt of having his son's memories wiped ate up at him every day, but he told himself it was for the best.
If he doesn't remember anything then he can't remember the horrible things we went through, Tyreceus reasoned.
He went over to the locked door and he opened it, letting students stream into his room. He sat at his desk, shuffling papers, looking for a red pen. He couldn't find one and his mild irritation turned into anger.
Tyreceus was on edge the entire class, and finally when they left he could finally relax. He had one free period for himself and tried to reason with himself what to do about his son.
Like all other intellectuals he believed it was best to just plan it out beforehand.
He finally found his red pen, which just annoyed him now that he didn't really need it. He wrote out the pros and cons of telling his son the truth about their lives and getting Rico to return his memories.
Tyreceus could not deny that there were many advantages to letting his son remember.
The pros list was twice as long as the cons list. The biggest one being that his son would finally not be seen as an idiot. He didn't want people treating him as less than.
The biggest con was that the trauma of the war they lived through would come back, possibly hurting him more than helping him.
But Tyreceus had his own secrets he took away from Ace, and the older he got the more he feared that Ace would learn the truth on his own. He would never forgive me if I told him about myself, Tyreceus thought. He would think I kept him for money.
Ace looked nothing like his father because his father adopted him.
Tyreceus never regretted adopting Ace, but was frustrated at how everyone treated him when they saw them together. No one trusted a single man with his son, but of course when he mentioned his mother was dead, suddenly he was to be trusted.
The subtext was obvious to Tyreceus and even Ace, whose brain was smoother than a bowling ball.
Tyreceus never lied to Ace about being adopted. It was quite obvious from their looks. He did however, lie to him about his family, and Tyreceus lied about his own family as well.
I'm in too deep, Tyreceus told himself. Even my name is fake. He'd never talk to me again.
Tyreceus only cared about what his closest friends and son thought of him. He couldn't handle the rejection of the last family member he had. Yet the stress was keeping him awake at night. The other day, Ace said he wanted to learn about his birth parents.
Tyreceus came up with another lie and a half truth.
He told Ace that he found him in a blanket outside, and lied that he got him from an orphanage to spare him feeling like he was less than. Ace was crushed at thinking that someone would abandon him, but the lie was enough to keep him from asking more questions.
Tyreceus tapped his foot and started to tear the list into small, incomprehensible pieces so no one would ever learn about his lies.
How many more lies can I keep up until he knows, Tyreceus thought. How much longer until I slip up?
Tyreceus stared at the mess on the desk, and felt like he was looking at his own life.
I'll tell him by the end of the week, Tyreceus reasoned. Then this can all end.
He rapidly clicked his pen and started to sweat at the very idea of having to be honest for the first time in his life.