Modern Family: New Life

Chapter 25: Pippa Fitz-Amobi



"Hi, guys. We finally have a class together," said Andrew, sitting right behind Leonard and Howard.

The desk was set up with a computer, monitor, mouse, and keyboard.

"Hey. Did you really choose programming as an elective?" Leonard asked, confused. It wasn't the kind of subject you'd expect a popular athlete to pick.

They weren't the only ones surprised by this. Several students in the classroom who knew him from middle school also looked at him with surprise when he walked in.

"Why are you all so surprised? You've seen my room…" Andrew said with a slight smile. Just by looking at his room, which had a PC loaded with video games, a console, comics, and more geeky stuff, it was clear why programming would interest him.

"That's true… I thought it was all just a dream," said Howard, staring at Andrew and touching his arm to make sure he was real.

"Don't say a sentence you could say to a girl," Andrew said, pulling his arm away from Howard's hand with a grimace. Leonard laughed lightly.

"Whatever… That thing in the cafeteria was amazing. It was like the army of Gondor was marching. You just needed to give an epic speech," Howard said enthusiastically.

"It was tempting to shout something dramatic, but it wasn't the right moment," Andrew said, laughing quietly. It would've ruined the moment, and only a few people would've gotten the reference.

"The cafeteria looked like the Black Gate, and you were Aragorn," Leonard added. "It was impressive. Everyone follows you without you saying a word. How do you do that?"

"It wasn't hard. I push them so hard in training they don't know if it's day or night," Andrew replied, his tone calm but with a gleam in his eyes that sent chills down Howard and Leonard's spines.

"But not too much. The human body has its limits, and learning to respect them is key. If you push them too far, the next day they won't be able to stand up, and that ruins all the progress. You have to know when to stop squeezing," Andrew added.

"Stop squeezing?" Howard and Leonard repeated in unison.

Andrew ignored them and continued, "The trick is knowing when to stop. If you let them recover, their bodies adapt, and when they start noticing they're faster, stronger, or have more stamina, they motivate themselves. It's like a snowball: every little improvement pushes them to want more. They stick to the regimen because they know it works."

"So basically, you turn them into progress addicts," Leonard commented, eyeing Andrew cautiously.

"It doesn't sound great the way you put it, but yeah, something like that," Andrew said.

Howard swallowed hard and asked, "You only apply that to the team, right? We're not on the team," he clarified, just in case.

Andrew raised an eyebrow. "I'm not going to turn you into physical progress addicts. Though… didn't you feel better after biking the other day?"

"Well… yeah… wait! You're trying to convince us right now, aren't you?" Howard said, looking at Andrew suspiciously.

Andrew shrugged with an innocent smile. "I'm just telling the truth. Releasing endorphins helps combat stress, improves mood, and even boosts concentration. Science backs it up. Don't you think it'd be good for you?"

"Blah, blah, blah! I'm not listening to your temptations anymore!" Howard said loudly, covering his ears.

"The one who perseveres will win," Andrew said. He could already envision a near future where Leonard and Howard regularly went to the gym and had respectable muscle mass.

"You're really good at convincing people," Leonard commented with a smile. "If I didn't have asthma, I might actually consider it," he added.

"That's sad, man," Andrew said sympathetically.

"All right, class, quiet!" the professor said as he entered the room, which had about twenty students. However, the only ones talking were Andrew, Leonard, and Howard.

"Oh… A respectful class for a change…" the professor muttered to himself as he positioned himself in the center, looking over the group he'd be teaching all year.

"My name is Elliot Smith, and this year I'll be your guide into the fascinating world of programming," the professor announced.

He was a man in his thirties with light brown, slightly messy hair and glasses sliding down the tip of his nose.

Professor Smith wrote the year's syllabus on the board. Afterward, he asked the students to turn on their computers and open the program they'd be using throughout the course: Eclipse IDE.

Eclipse IDE is an integrated development environment used for creating various software applications, particularly in Java. Being free and open-source, it's one of the most popular Java IDEs in the tech world. That's what the professor explained.

Andrew curiously examined the program's interface as it loaded: a top toolbar with options like File, Edit, and Run; a side panel called Project Explorer for managing and organizing projects; a central window, the Editor, where they'd write their code; and a console at the bottom, where program results or error messages would appear.

Professor Smith strolled slowly between the students, ensuring everyone had Eclipse open and running correctly. Then he returned to the front of the class and wrote on the board: HelloWorld.

"Let's create our first program!" Smith said enthusiastically.

Andrew was one of the first to complete the HelloWorld program. It was very easy for him, and he never imagined he'd excel in a school subject like programming. Studying had never been his strong suit.

However, he now had a clear advantage since he had transmigrated into the body of a five-year-old. If he struggled with something as simple as HelloWorld, he'd be a hopeless idiot.

Since he had extra time, he decided to write a slightly more ambitious program. He aimed to create one that calculated the average of three grades input by the user.

After a few minutes, he finished—but it didn't work.

"What's wrong?" Andrew muttered to himself, staring at the screen with confusion and a bit of frustration.

"That's not going to work like that," said a female voice from his right, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Andrew turned his head and saw a girl with short brown hair and blue eyes.

"Excuse me?" Andrew asked, looking at her pale face. He recognized her—it was the girl he had bumped into on the way to the cafeteria a few hours ago.

"Your program. It's not poorly written, but I can see you mixed up the order of operations," the girl said, pointing to specific spots on the screen.

"And you forgot to use parentheses before dividing. Right now, you're just dividing the last grade by three," she added.

Andrew blinked and looked back at his code. She was right.

With the error spotted, Andrew quickly fixed his code, and when he ran it this time, it worked.

'And here I thought I'd have an edge in at least one academic subject on the first day of school…' Andrew thought as he glanced at the girl sitting to his right, now focused on her own computer.

"Thanks, but… I don't know your name," Andrew said.

"Oh, right, I didn't introduce myself," the girl replied with a slightly rushed smile, as if suddenly realizing she'd forgotten something obvious.

"I'm Pippa. Pippa Fitz-Amobi."

Andrew nodded, silently repeating the unusual name in his mind to remember it.

"Andrew… though I guess you already know that," he said, recalling how she'd mentioned his name earlier when they bumped into each other.

"Yeah, the quarterback, right? We went to the same middle school. Everyone used to talk about you," Pippa remarked.

"And after the scene you pulled in the cafeteria, it'll probably be the same here," she added.

"Yeah, haha," Andrew said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

They both returned to their work. Out of curiosity, Andrew glanced at Pippa's screen and saw some very complicated code.

"Whoa, you're really advanced. Are you passionate about programming?" Andrew couldn't help but ask. Someone writing such complex code couldn't be considered a beginner.

"Not at all. I just read in my free time. I guess I enjoy learning new things… don't you?" Pippa replied as she continued typing more code.

Andrew nodded, but his response was more of a reflex than an actual agreement. He then glanced at the screens of Howard and Leonard, who were sitting across from him.

Like Pippa, those two were writing complex code that Andrew found difficult to understand at a glance.

When the bell rang, signaling the end of class, Andrew leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.

"We're definitely in different leagues," he murmured to himself with a smile. It wasn't a complaint; it was an acceptance.

Each one of them has his area in which he stands out as a genius, in his case it is sports.

With classes over, Andrew headed to practice with his friends and teammates who were also on the team. They arrived several minutes early.

In this way, more than a week passed.

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