How I Met My College Buds - Part I

A little, 11-year old Ben sat near the track. Sighing, he recognized it was bound to be another afternoon of dullness – running miles in the hot sun up and down Padden Parkway while everybody else did the easy 100-meter sprints, the turbo-javelin, and shot-put (all near the shade and water bottles, of course).
He sat near the sandbox and talked with his friend, Michael, about the newly-landed Martian Rover Spirit. As an engineer to be (though he did not yet know it), he was fascinated by the prospect of robot probes scouring the surface of an unknown planet.
Another boy came up to the twosome; he had been stretching a few feet away and joined the boys’ conversation. After much exciting talk, the boys decided to draw their own robot probes and meet back the next week with their drawings.

That new boy’s name was Paul.

...

A nervous, 15-year-old boy awaited his orders from his team's captain.

“Alright Ben, that’s your squad leader.” Came the announcement as the captain pointed toward a stranger. The squad leader was muscular, dressed in full camo gear and a tan baseball cap. He wore reflective sunglasses and handled his “large” rifle with an ease that only comes from years of experience. This was Ben's first major airsoft engagement, and he was eager to prove himself, though with only a shotgun and two hours experience.

“Ok guys, listen up.” The leader told his squad (most of which were the inexperienced type like Ben), “Let’s move out, and just have fun!”

The squad leader’s name was Grant.

...

An annoyed, 17-year old Ben groaned as a whiny voice rose from the general discussion in the classroom.

“But Tina, actually that’s wrong.”
An audible groan went up from the class as Jonathan tried to correct the professor again.
“Nobody cares Jonathan.” Came a different voice from the crowd of students, followed by a snickering, as the rest of the class agreed with the emotion.
“Please, no!” Ben thought. Somewhere in this classroom was a boy named Jonathan; the Cashes, old time friends for years, knew him and had found out that he and Ben were in some of the same classes. People in both his family, as well as the Cashes, were urging Ben to meet this fellow student.
He just had to urge himself. There were two Jonathans in the class. One was quiet and said nearly nothing. Ben knew almost nothing about him. The “Other Jonathan” wouldn’t shut up. He constantly corrected the professor, had no social skills, and a beard that would suit a caveman.

He was also homeschooled.