Back in the auditorium, amidst the jeers and laughter of the crowd, Missy recoiled in disgust. "Oh, gross. I definitely saw leg hair on Annie."
You had to give Mr. Randy credit for his dedication, but the man simply wasn't cut out to play a little orphan girl.
"I've been saying it for years—some actors will do anything for shock value. Flashing a little leg hair is tame compared to what I've seen," Meemaw scoffed. She held a deep-seated prejudice against the theatrical arts, but she quickly found a silver lining. "Thank the Lord my grandson isn't up there."
Beside her, the Cooper parents wore matching expressions of sheer relief. They couldn't even imagine the level of social suicide it would have been if Sheldon had actually taken the stage as "Annie."
"Georgie, doesn't this gross you out?" Mike asked, shielding Missy's eyes from the visual assault. He looked over at George Jr., baffled by the teenager's reaction.
"I think it's hilarious," Georgie chuckled, watching the train wreck of a performance with genuine amusement.
"Whatever floats your boat, man..." Mike shook his head. God only knows if witnessing this "horror show" was going to give him nightmares later.
Meanwhile, backstage, Sheldon had changed out of his costume. From the wings, he finally got a clear view of the disaster unfolding on stage. Thoroughly repulsed, he immediately canceled his subscription to the acting dream.
---
A week flew by. Sheldon, once again drifting without a life goal, had recently become obsessed with writing letters.
As luck would have it, he struck gold with a pen pal named John. Through a flurry of correspondence, the two became fast friends. And becoming Sheldon's "friend" was no small feat—you had to be intellectually fortified just to keep up.
After Sheldon poured out his academic woes in a letter, John enthusiastically invited him to attend a lecture. It was only then that Sheldon realized his pen pal was actually a professor at a local Texas university.
Fast forward to Friday. As soon as the morning classes wrapped up, Sheldon cornered Mike. "Mike, would you be interested in attending a university lecture with me?"
Sheldon knew that Mike, like him, had already mastered the high school curriculum and was essentially just burning time at school. But there was a second reason for the invite: Sheldon hated new environments. Having a familiar face—specifically a protective one like Mike—made the prospect much less daunting.
Mike, who was just about to grab lunch with Katie and the girls, realized this was a golden opportunity to grind his stats.
Thanks to his [Moonlight] passive ability, his physical Constitution was on the verge of breaking the 300-point barrier. His Intelligence stat, however, had been plateauing around 160 for a while now.
Although it wasn't obvious in daily conversation, Mike could keenly feel the gap. In terms of raw processing power, he was still lagging behind Sheldon. To break through this cap, he needed to farm experience from high-tier intellectuals.
And if Mike remembered correctly, auditing this class would introduce Sheldon to another "boss-level" genius: Paige. With an IQ of 190 and social skills to match, she was practically Sheldon's natural predator.
So, for the sake of leveling up his brain, Mike bailed on lunch with the ladies.
The two boys waited at the school gate for Meemaw's car. Since it was a Friday, George Sr. was stuck at the sporting goods store, leaving taxi duties to Connie.
"Hey, Mike. You going to play college student today, too?" Connie asked as she pulled up. Her hair was still damp, and a swim cap sat on the passenger seat—she'd clearly been dragged out of the pool for this. She looked surprised to see Mike.
"Yep. I officially 'graduated' from Math Olympiad prep," Mike joked.
It was true enough. Aside from refining his social skills with the female demographics, high school didn't have much left to offer him.
"Got it. Hop in, you two geniuses," Connie laughed. Living with Sheldon meant she was used to eccentric behavior; if Mike wanted to tag along to a college lecture, it was par for the course.
---
After an hour-long drive—during which most students were enjoying their lunch break—Connie dropped them off at the entrance of the university.
Sheldon, having memorized the location of Professor John's classroom from the letters, led the way.
"I'm not going in," Connie announced. Despite her usually brash personality, the stuffy, solemn atmosphere of a university made her feel self-conscious.
Leaving Connie to wait outside, Mike and Sheldon entered the lecture hall.
Class was about to start, and the room was packed. When a literal child walked in, a ripple of whispers went through the undergraduates. Sheldon, however, was unfazed. In fact, he seemed to bask in the attention. He scanned the room, lifted his chin, and marched straight to the front row, center seat—the prime learning spot.
When Mike followed him in, the reaction shifted. A collective gasp came from the female students. Mike, used to this kind of aggro, kept a poker face and sat down next to Sheldon.
Within minutes, several folded notes landed on his desk.
You had to hand it to college girls; they were bold. Mike scanned the room behind him. Seeing no one who met his high aesthetic standards, he quietly swept the notes—lipstick stains and all—into his desk drawer.
Just as a few girls were preparing a second wave of flirtation, the door opened.
A short, balding man—standing about 5'3"—walked in. And walking right beside him was Connie.
Meemaw was smiling, looking uncharacteristically shy. Clearly, something had happened out in the hallway.
"Connie, please, sit," Professor John Sturgis said, gallantly gesturing to a front-row seat.
"Thank you," Connie replied with a demure smile. To Sheldon's absolute horror, she sat down on his other side.
Just minutes ago, she had refused to set foot in the building. Now she was front row? It was highly suspicious.
But Sheldon didn't have time to analyze the data, because his pen pal had turned his attention to him.
"I'm John. You must be Sheldon," the professor beamed. "You really are a little genius."
Dr. Sturgis knew the oldest trick in the book: the way to a grandmother's heart is through praising her grandson. He kept glancing at Connie out of the corner of his eye. Seeing her smile widen, he knew he'd scored points.
"Yes, I am Sheldon. It is a pleasure to meet you, Professor John," Sheldon nodded, shaking hands with professional gravity.
Dr. Sturgis, wearing a kind smile, chatted with Sheldon for a moment before his gaze drifted to the handsome teenager sitting next to him.
"And this new student... is he family as well, Connie?" John asked.
He had clocked the connection immediately.
"I'm Mike. I'm currently boarding at Connie's house," Mike answered honestly.
"Ah, I see. Welcome, Mike," Professor John said.
Although he was addressing Mike, his eyes—and his attention—were glued firmly to Connie.
It was official: The Professor had it bad for Meemaw.