Chapter 8: The Omission
The sharp cry of the alarm blared from the nightstand, shattering the remnants of Alex's uneasy dreams. His eyes flew open to the glowing red numbers on the clock—8:30 AM.
"Shit," he muttered, bolting upright.
In a rush, he threw on a crumpled shirt from the chair, brushed his teeth in a blur, and grabbed a slice of toast from the kitchen counter. His parents sat by the breakfast table, chuckling softly as they watched their son storm out like a hurricane.
"You're going to miss the fun part," his mother called after him, voice tinged with warmth.
"Don't worry, he'll make it. He always does," his father added, sipping his tea.
Alex dashed outside and spotted Noah standing by the sleek black car, as polished and stoic as ever.
"You're late, Master Alex," Noah said, opening the door with mechanical efficiency.
"Yeah, I know. Where's Emma?"
"She returned to base this morning. Something about recalibrating field protocols."
Alex raised an eyebrow but didn't push further. If Emma had gone back to the base, there had to be a reason.
The car sped through the streets, weaving expertly through traffic. As they approached the university gates, Alex could already see crowds gathering at the main hall. Students were hurrying in with excited chatter.
Inside, the principal stood on the stage, a list in hand, announcing names one by one. Each name called was met with mild applause, followed by students exiting the hall and returning minutes later with tickets in hand. The whole process had the energy of a lottery.
Alex slipped in quietly, taking a seat at the back just as the headmaster cleared his throat and stepped forward to the microphone.
"Good morning, students!" he boomed with a warm enthusiasm. "Today marks the culmination of months of planning and coordination. We are pleased to announce the confirmed list for the upcoming educational trip to the Kennedy Space Center. This is a rare and exciting opportunity for all of you to witness firsthand the cutting-edge work being done at NASA."
A murmur of excitement spread through the room.
"This initiative was made possible through the tireless effort and connections of one of your own—Deenal Mehra," the headmaster continued with a proud smile. "Thanks to his remarkable coordination and outreach, the entire class has been invited to attend. Let us give him a big round of applause."
The room filled with clapping as Deenal stood modestly and gave a small bow. Alex sat still, watching. That smirk was almost invisible, but he saw it.
The headmaster resumed. "As a token of appreciation, Deenal, the school and staff sincerely thank you for your initiative. Now, I'll begin announcing the names. Once your name is called, please head to the office where you'll be issued your travel documents and itinerary."
The hall buzzed with anticipation. The headmaster began reading names, slowly and methodically:
"Anurag Menon… Selene Rao… Krarth rebaka... deenal mehra.... sam will... casandra col... willam muli... elistabth mill... collins wats "
One by one, the students walked forward, some with excited grins, others trying to keep cool. Each came back with a small envelope, the ticket to their NASA trip.
Alex watched in silence as the list continued. The room gradually emptied as names were called in alphabetical order.
Minutes stretched on. Students returned with tickets in hand, chatting with each other, comparing notes, already discussing what they'd wear, what they'd do. Alex's eyes briefly flicked toward Anurag and Krath who had taken seats on the opposite side of the hall. They hadn't spoken to him since the incident. Not that he cared.
He kept waiting.
And waiting.
Name after name. Friend after friend.
Yet his name wasn't called.
Finally, after what felt like an hour, the headmaster placed the list on the podium and looked up with satisfaction.
"That concludes our announcements for the day," he said. "All selected students are to report at 9 AM sharp tomorrow morning. This trip is more than just a visit—it's an honor and a chance to gain valuable insights into the world of space exploration. Represent our university well."
Applause followed. Whispers filled the room. Excitement bubbled.
But Alex's brow was furrowed.
He raised his hand slowly.
"Excuse me, sir. My name wasn't called."
The room fell momentarily quiet.
The headmaster looked puzzled. He picked up the sheet again and scanned through it carefully.
"Your name… Alexander Ironhart, correct?" he asked.
Alex nodded.
The headmaster checked once more and then frowned. "Strange… It's not listed here."
He looked over to Deenal, who was now watching the exchange with a perfectly blank face.
"Deenal," the headmaster said, "you submitted the list. Was Alex's name included?"
Deenal blinked once, then stood slowly. "Yes, sir. I submitted the full class roster. If he's not on it, it must've been a clerical error or something from NASA's side. I had no way of cross-checking their final confirmations."
Alex saw it again—that faint flicker of amusement in Deenal's eyes. The act was perfect, respectful, and apologetic. But it was bullshit.
The headmaster sighed. "I'm sorry, Alex. There must have been an oversight on their end. Unfortunately, the list has been finalized."
"But the entire class was selected," Alex said, trying to keep his voice neutral. "How could just one person be missing?"
"It is unfortunate," the headmaster said with an apologetic smile. "But don't worry, there will be other chances—perhaps something even bigger in the near future. You're a promising student, Alex. One mistake won't hold you back."
Alex smiled faintly and nodded.
Sure. Other chances.
He stood and left the hall quietly, the applause for the trip still echoing faintly behind him.
He walked outside, eyes glazed, not from disappointment—he didn't give a damn about the trip. If he wanted, he could have the Director of NASA give him a personal tour. But the point wasn't the trip.
It was the message.
He found a bench near the university's front garden and sat down under the shade of a broad oak. A few pigeons fluttered nearby, pecking at crumbs left behind.
Thirty minutes passed.
Then students began pouring out, many talking excitedly. Anurag and Krath passed by and gave him a glance, Krath even managing a casual, "Maybe next time, bro."
Alex didn't respond.
His gaze was distant.
Then a familiar figure emerged.
Deenal.
Expression calm. Hands in pockets.
Alex's jaw tensed.
And Deenal began walking toward him.