#who remembers how to do a quadratic function??

[music4soul]

Since it snowed Tuesday night, my school’s plans to make us go back today were foiled. Unluckily for us, they decided to give us online instruction, as well as a two hour delay tomorrow.

Now I’m sitting here trying to remember how to do a quadratic function and hoping my absence to my first period class won’t be counted.

[white-poppie]

Cliché' get Closer

Synopsis: When the local 'bad boy' of your institution falls in love. There is a palpable tension that hangs tantalizingly amongst you. The universe plays its game to make the two of you, end up in compromising situations. Cliches that have your heart throbbing!

Characters: Hanma Shuji, Ran Haitani,

A/N: trying something new with multi-tenses

𝐑𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈

You have no idea how you ended up like this. As far as you remember, it was supposed to be a study session for Ran who was failing miserably.

...

The teacher had suggested Ran take peer tuition from you. He had walked outside the classroom and looked at you. Your eyes meet. Amethyst pupils…Ran Haitani's eyes were the prettiest you had ever seen. He looked at you half liddlely, twirling his dual-coloured braids in his fingers.

The expression on his face was unreadable. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn't help but be embarrassed, but you couldn't help but stare at the tall and broad-shouldered man in front of you. His eyes scanned you up and down and then he smiled, his intense gaze softening. You felt a warmth spread through your body as if the sun came out of behind the clouds.

"Y/N could you come here for a moment, I need to talk to you,” he had said to you and you nodded apprehensively at your friends before following your older classmate. He's bad news. Everyone knows that. They avoid him like the plague. It's just him and Rin.

"What is up?" you asked softly, your heart was beating out of your chest due to an expression you don't know.

Ran took a deep breath and rubbed the nape of his neck, “So uh I don’t know how to put this, but I am failing all my classes and our homeroom teacher recommended me to talk to you if you would be interested in giving me peer tuition...since you are smart and stuff.” He said awkwardly and looks at your reaction.

You bit your lip as you considered all the options. He's a delinquent, a violent person, a known bad boy and basically the kid your parents tell you to stray away from. But its studies. if anything goes wrong you can always tell the teacher, right? There is no harm in giving him a chance... that's what you had thought.

...

Ran Haitani was insufferable.

"Wait what- how did you do that?" he asks, keeping his head on the table, like a puppy and you almost get the urge to pet this murderous delinquent.

You sigh and explain for the 5th time, "See you can't apply y=mx+c here since the graph is clearly not a linear function. It's not a straight line, but a symmetric curve. What did I say it is?"

Ran looks at you blankly and then answers, "Cubic function...?"

You facepalm at his answer and then look back at him, "It's a Quadratic function. y= ax^2 + bx + c."

"Ohh, now I get it." Ran nods and quickly scribbles in his notebook.

You sigh and rest your head on your palm as you look at Ran. Whenever he writes, his dual-colored braids move slightly. His knuckles are bruised as if he punched someone, and there is a tiny mole just above his lips. The way his lashes flutter innocently when he reads the problems almost makes your heart race. You can't help but be drawn to him, even though you know you shouldn't be. He looks up and catches your eye, and you quickly look away, feeling embarrassed. You take a deep breath and try to focus on the paper in front of you.

"Done," he says enthusiastically and you take his notebook and scan through the equations, you then look up at him with a smile and nod, "All correct, good job."

Ran smiles proudly and leans back on the chair, "You are a good teacher." You smile at his words and lean back in your chair, observing him silently.

"Say, Y/N," he asks quietly, "do you have a boyfriend?" He spins the pen between his fingers with dexterity. You look at him for a moment, feeling a slight flush on your cheeks. You shake your head lightly, averting your gaze. "No," you say, your voice soft and airy, "I don't have a boyfriend."

His gaze lingers on you for a moment, his lips curling into a small smile. He nods his head ever so slightly and turns back to his work, spinning his pen in his fingers.

It's Ran Haitani, you have to remind yourself. The notorious delinquent of your school. You can't help but feel your heart flutter in your chest. He had always been a mysterious figure, never talking to anyone, but in that moment, he had seemed almost human. He wasn't the same person that everyone whispered about in the hallways, but someone more complex and intriguing.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks and rests his face on his palm. "Well anyways I think this unit is done." He says proudly.

You nod and pack up your things, "I guess that's it for today, I'll let you know if I'll continue the tuition by Monday. You say, ready to leave as he grabs your hand.

"Wait," he says gently, "let me walk you home." He wants to make sure you get home safely and is showing a kind gesture by offering to walk you home. He also might be trying to extend the conversation and see if you want to continue having tuitions in the future.

"Alright." You two leave the library and walk in silence for a while. Your tote bag with books slung over your shoulder.

The sidewalk is almost empty. The two of you stroll toward your house peacefully, but suddenly a rampant kid approaches with his bike out of control and you don't know what to do. At this point, he is incapable of controlling the bike due to its speed. "Move!" he shouts, unable to control the bike.

Ran panics as he thinks of a way to escape and does what seems the closest escapade. He pushes you and himself towards a wall on the right, his hand behind your head. Ran looks back at the kid, scowling at him and then he looks into your eyes as his breathing speeds up. He has you pinned to the wall. Your watery eyes peering up at him almost make him want to tilt his head and capture your lips in his.

He coughs and moves away, a faint blush adorning his face. "Let's go." He says as you two walk towards your house. There is silence again, but it is awkward.

He pauses as you two reach your house. You nod at him, about to enter in as he says.

"I look forward to our next tutoring session, Y/N. Maybe this time I could teach you a thing or two."

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐌𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐔𝐉𝐈

"I am regretting my life right now, Hanma Shuji," you whisper-shout as he unlocks the window of the library.

"Relax, sweetheart, I'll get ya' out safe and sound," he says and you feel warmth on your face at that term. You and Hnama had been paired up for an assignment and he had kept on delaying it until the end till the research for the final conclusion of the project was still left.

...

So there he was on the floor of your dorm room, the importance of the university assignment is finally hitting him.

“How do we get the research? Is the internet enough?” He had asked and you shook your head.

“It’s such an oddly specific topic that if can only be done by a few textbooks that are in the library. It would be closed by now! The deadline is tomorrow.” You said rubbing your finger on you temples.

Hanma sighs, his tongue rests on the corner of his lips,”Its my fault I get it, it was a two people project, you handled so much on your own while I was preoccupied with gang shenanigans.” He said, for once taking his education seriously because he knows this accounts to huge percentage of the aggregate and more importantly cause it’s you.

"Lets sneak into the library then," he said and you frowned.

"What? Its 11 PM right now, it must be closed." You huffed.

"Just trust me."

....

The lock opened with a click and he urged you to go in first. You bite your lips and climb into the low window with Hanma's help. His long fingers grip your waist as he easily hoists you up on the sill and the climbs up himself. His tall stature making it easy for him.

You both land on the library floor with a plop and Hanma whispers, "where is it?"

"Probably the left wing, lets go," you whisper back , standing up as you walk slowly to the set of shelves.

Hanma switches on the flash of his phone as he searches through the titles with you, checking the spines of the books, you look at the downward shelves while he checks the upper ones.

"Got it!" He exclaims and takes out the book and shows it to you. You nod in approval at his efficiency. You both switch off the flash and are about to leave when the guard's footsteps are heard.

Your eyes widen as you look at Hanma with a fear-struck expression. Hanma quickly grabs your hand and huddles at the back of the rack with you. He gazes behind the shelves and both of your heartbeats are pounding.

The guard flashes the torch around and leaves. You breathe a sigh of relief, but soon realise the way you are pressed against him. Hanms seemed unfazed, but you could tell that wasn't the case by his rapid breathing and heart thumping under your hand.

You could feel the tension between the two of you, the palpable heat radiating off Hanma's body as you pressed up against him. You both seemed spellbound at the moment, neither willing to break the gaze or the silence that hung in the air.

His hand shakily reaches your cheek to brush the strands of hair that fall on your face. His amber eyes, seemed to be searching for an answer in yours, as though he was trying to read your mind and uncover the secrets of your soul through your gaze alone. You could feel the intensity of the moment, each of you seemingly lost in the other in a way that felt both frightening and exhilarating at the same time.

" 'S pretty," he mumbles hoarsely like it's your name, his back against the side of the bookshelf. He whispers with a dulcet voice that kissed the air like the smell of a fresh blossom of Night Jasmine.

He did this cause he was guilty that has stressed you out more. You who makes an annoying softness in his heart light up, how he subconsciously bends a little while he talks to you, bites his tongue from using crude words…what have you done to him?

You were supposed to be just another student in his batch, when did he get addicted to your voice? When did he start noticing your perfume notes?

It's only an attraction he thinks. Only pure infatuation that comes with your expressive eyes and endearing demeanour...but it's not, it's so much more at it kills him.

He then snaps back into reality and helps you up on your feet, giving you no chance to question his words, "Let's finish the assignment first...we could go for coffee tomorrow."

Of Vengeance and Ashes” -> BUY NOW!!!! I am a 15-year-old author who needs support, I assure you it won't disappoint! It's okay if you don't buy, it would be enough to share the link with someone else who might be interested! I humbly request you support my career as a child author by purchasing my book. This would help me to write more books in future.

Also Check out: L'appel du vide (✔️) (Synopsis: Your husband, Hanma Shuji is dead! With no memories of what transpired two days before his death, you team up with Tachibana Naoto, Chifuyu Matsuno, Ryuguji Ken and Mitsuya Takashi, you go on a journey full of betrayals and twists. Can you find out what really happened to your husband? )

© white-poppie 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, or translate without permission. do not claim work or layout as yours.

— TOKYO REVENGERS - Fanfictions

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﹒ Taglist   (lmk in the comments in case you wanna be added and the link doesn't work!)

[ecrivainsolitaire]

Binary computers, like your device, calculate math operations with definite answers: 2+2=4. Everything else they do is math puppetry that allows them to use these operations to make things happen like light up the screen pixels, display text, write data on drives and output sound. They do billions of operations per second but in the end it's just first grade maths; theoretically, you could do it with pen and paper by hand, it would just take unfathomably long.

Quantum computers, like that steampunk candelabra that broke the brain of someone who saw the enigma machine be invented, do operations that can have multiple outcomes. Remember quadratic equations, and how they give you two separate outcomes? One positive and one negative; you then have to use your judgement (or more math) to determine which one is the one you need. Some operations can have thousands of different outcomes; for example, that's the tech behind computer security. Theoretically, a normal computer could guess all your secure passwords given enough time; but it would have to test them one by one, which if your password is good enough, could take trillions of years (reminder to upgrade your password security), which means it's almost never worth the effort unless you're storing nuclear codes or Kim Jong Un's proctology exam video. But a quantum computer can "easily" calculate all possible passwords at the same time and then weigh them by probability, which means it would take very little to figure out any password. This kind of maths are useful for other things like pharma research or weather forecasting, which binary computers can't handle well just because there are too many variables entangled onto each other, like a pile of old earbuds in the bottom of a drawer. But while that entanglement is a problem with binary computers, because it means adding lots of variables to the operations, with quantum computers it's the main advantage, because that entanglement is a double edged sword: figuring out one knot leads you to figuring out the next one, and because they're all connected, as long as you have all the ends of the earbuds on one hand (the circle of hanging rings) then doing the rest is simple.

The "easily" is in quotes because they require reaching temperatures of near Absolute Zero to function, which is why there's only like six of them: the computer is the thing in the picture, but there's a cooling system the size of a small skyscraper attached to it. Research is being done in more efficient ways to do it, at which point they might miniaturise enough to make them viable to mass manufacture. Right now it's anyone's guess if that's even possible but hopefully more breakthroughs will come soon.

That picture of Biden looking at a quantum computer and being unable to grasp the true form of what he's seeing

To be fair that's how I would I react too

[piatosniathenie]

Math Reflection 🌸 __________________

Upon my entry here to Pisay, I quickly learnt that the math I’d be learning would be more advanced in comparison to my friends in DepEd. Now, as a freshie who was in the seventh grade who was adjusting to both Pisay and dorm life, it was still quite alright since most topics were ones that I was already familiar with thanks to my former elementary coach. My grades were still thriving like they were before, but midway through, they started dropping little by little. So, my head may have internalised the saying that I was so smart in math that I was smarter than them in the subject and I got too prideful that I stopped doing math exercises during the pandemic. I understand now that it was quite naive of me to think that I was that smart in math that I no longer needed to practice solving and that I can understand concepts within the drop of the hat. I forgot the entire reason why I got good at math in the first place back in elementary: practice, practice, and even more practice. Eight hours a day for five days a week for three months for four years straight and that doesn’t even include summer training sessions for competitions and Saturday MTG sessions, all of which were just dedicated to learning mathematics. Now, you may ask what my point is in all of this. The aforementioned was just to give you a background of how it now leads to my Math 3 learning journey, or more specifically, the second quarter portion. So, yeah, that was just the prologue! Now, here’s the actual story that will talk about the stepping stones I had to get through during the second quarter of this school year!

Transitioning from Math 2 which was our introductory course to LETV, quadratic equations, functions, and of course, graphs ✨. We were taught the basic concepts which were essential as they would all be built up in the coming year levels. By the end of Math 2, I had better learning habits than I did at the beginning of it and was practicing more (minus the days I felt like I was at an all-time low and had no motivation to do anything) but hey, at least they improved and it paid off since my grades became higher(ish) (shout out to ma’am for helping me and making us create outlines for the topics!! mwa mwa). The ninth grade soon rolled along and we were back to refreshing former topics that we were taught in our earlier years and of course, they were more difficult than we remembered. First quarter was fine (ignoring the FAs I got embarrassingly low scores on due to my lack of practice and rush cramming. Not a good habit, I’m very much aware). We went through angles, geometry, reruns of the midpoint formula, and more. 

Finally, here we are at the second quarter and wow, I don’t think I’ve disliked graphs more than I do now, more specifically transformations. I apologise, that was blunt, but I will explain more into that in the later paragraphs. In the beginning, it was fine since it was just division with polynomials, factor theorem, and remainder theorem. Sounds nice, right? They were fairly easy topics that anyone could grasp quickly and were just a refresher from grade 7. After the two week break/suspension, we were taught rational root theorem and Descartes’ rule of signs. Again, easy enough topics once you get the hang of it and practice a lot, which I did during the break. The topics I mainly struggled with were functions mainly due to the fact that it required knowing how to interpret graphs (my Achilles’ heel 😭), but more on that later on. Before I knew it, we were taking our first long test of the quarter. Did I cram? Yes. The result you may ask? I failed miserably. An astounding ten out of thirty. Thankfully, our teacher was kind enough to give us another long test to make up for it so the majority of us wouldn’t fail. Again, I reviewed/crammed, but I had a better understanding of the topics this time after we went over our mistakes in the first LT. When the scores were revealed, I surprisingly got a 20 out of 30 in spite of me not reviewing as much as I was supposed to. Then again, the concepts were familiar and were easy to grasp and it just required comprehension. I will not forget what my teacher said as he gave me my score: “Wow, nagreview talaga ‘to,”. Sir, alam mo po ba na natulog lang ako for the entire lunch break before the LT. Hihi, I’m sorry, but thank you for the retake!! 

Afterwards, we mainly focused on transformations for the remainder of 2024. Now, despite the amount of exercises given to us and the numerous sessions we had on GeoGebra, I still did not have a good grasp on it as much as our other lessons. Everyone else said that it was one of the easiest, but I don't know. I guess I’m not as “literate” as others when it comes to graphs or my mind simply didn’t process it. Either way, I should practice on it. However, when it comes to the ones I was proficient with and a topic that I will want to carry with me for the rest of my life is the division of polynomials. It was quite relaxing in a way and I enjoyed doing it inspired me to exercise my basic arithmetic skills every once in a while.

Learning all of these lessons was certainly not an easy feat for me to do due to the other requirements and lessons I had to focus on as well which usually did not leave me enough time to concentrate on solely math. I have my friends to thank for teaching me at midnight and between classes, especially in transformations >.<. Shout out kay Joseph for being my math tutor since grade 7. Sir Joseph, thank you for not giving up on our batch no matter how hard-headed and stubborn we are and for always diligently giving us the resources we need to review. Lastly, Pia, I am begging you to do more math exercises if you want your grades to go up. Go back to your former learning habits and just keep on practicing, I swear that’s the only way you’ll go back to being your former self from elementary (don’t forget rest). Mwa!

[sciencestyled]

From Robots to Rockstars: The Wild World of STEM/STEAM Programs

Ladies and gentlemen, buckle up, because we’re about to take a ride on the wildest educational rollercoaster since Ms. Frizzle took the wheel of the Magic School Bus! Today, we're diving into the high-octane, kaleidoscopic, and downright wacky world of STEM/STEAM programs. That's right, we're talking Science, Technology, Engineering, Arts, and Mathematics – the fantastic five that are here to catapult our brains into the stratosphere of awesomeness. So, grab your goggles, pocket protectors, and a splash of creative flair, because this is going to be one heck of a brain-blasting ride!

Picture this: a classroom where coding meets choreography, where algorithms do a cha-cha with abstract art, and where robotics workshops are as common as recess. This isn’t some trippy episode of "Rick and Morty"; this is the world of STEM/STEAM, where left brain meets right brain in a cosmic collision of creativity and calculation. It’s like Bill Nye teamed up with Picasso to throw the ultimate science-art rave, and we’re all invited.

STEM/STEAM is like the Avengers assembling for the ultimate showdown, but instead of saving the universe from Thanos, they’re saving us from the dreary doldrums of traditional education. Imagine Iron Man wielding a paintbrush, Hulk smashing complex equations, and Black Widow coding with the finesse of a prima ballerina. These programs aren’t just teaching kids how to memorize the periodic table or solve quadratic equations; they’re gearing them up to be the next generation of innovators, creators, and problem-solvers.

Now, let’s break it down like a DJ at a rave: STEM focuses on the hardcore technical stuff – science, technology, engineering, and math. Think of it as the nerdy, introverted genius who spends recess tinkering with circuits and solving Rubik’s cubes. But then, someone had the brilliant idea to invite the arts to the party. STEAM brings in the creative, flamboyant, and slightly eccentric cousin who paints murals on the cafeteria walls and plays the ukulele during lunch break. Together, they form a dynamic duo that’s like Sherlock Holmes teaming up with Salvador Dalí – solving mysteries with a surreal twist.

But why the arts, you ask? Because life isn’t all about binary code and Bunsen burners. The arts infuse a little pizzazz into the mix, encouraging students to think outside the box – heck, to reinvent the box entirely! It’s like giving Tony Stark a paint set and saying, “Go nuts.” Suddenly, you have Iron Man suits that are not only functional but also fabulously fashionable.

Consider this: in a STEM/STEAM classroom, a student might be designing a robot to navigate a maze. Sounds pretty STEM-y, right? But then, they’re also tasked with giving that robot a personality, a backstory, and maybe even a theme song. Next thing you know, you’ve got R2-D2 with the charisma of James Bond and the groove of Bruno Mars. This is the magic of STEM/STEAM – it’s the ultimate mashup where innovation meets imagination in a glittery explosion of ingenuity.

And speaking of mashups, let’s talk about the epic crossover episodes. Remember that one time the "Power Rangers" teamed up with the Ninja Turtles? That’s the kind of energy we’re channeling here. STEM/STEAM programs are all about interdisciplinary learning, where the lines between subjects blur like your vision after binge-watching "Stranger Things." Students aren’t just learning isolated facts; they’re connecting the dots in ways that make Da Vinci look like a kindergarten finger-painter.

Take a look at a STEM/STEAM project in action: imagine students creating a sustainable garden. They’re using science to understand plant biology, technology to monitor soil moisture, engineering to build efficient irrigation systems, and math to calculate growth rates. But wait – here comes the plot twist! They’re also using art to design beautiful garden layouts and compose poetry about their plants’ epic botanical adventures. It’s like "The Martian" meets "The Secret Garden," and the result is nothing short of cinematic brilliance.

But hold onto your hats, folks, because we’re about to enter the technicolor dreamscape of technology education. In the middle of this glorious chaos, technology education stands tall, waving its flag like a superhero at Comic-Con. This isn’t just about learning to code; it’s about preparing students for a future where technology is as ubiquitous as Starbucks and as unpredictable as a "Game of Thrones" finale. STEM/STEAM programs are the breeding ground for future tech titans, those wunderkinds who will one day create apps that solve world hunger or invent AI that can write the next Pulitzer Prize-winning novel.

Now, let’s sprinkle in some contemporary pop culture for good measure. Imagine a class where students are building their own droids inspired by "The Mandalorian," or creating virtual reality tours of Hogwarts. These aren’t your grandma’s school projects; these are epic quests that rival "Fortnite" battles in their intensity and creativity. And just like "Fortnite," it’s all about teamwork – students learn to collaborate, communicate, and co-create in ways that prepare them for the multiplayer game of life.

But wait, there’s more! (Cue infomercial voiceover.) STEM/STEAM programs also teach valuable life skills, like critical thinking, problem-solving, and how to handle failure with the grace of a reality TV star who just got voted off the island. It’s like "Survivor" meets "Shark Tank," with a dash of "Project Runway" for flair. Students learn to pivot, adapt, and innovate, turning setbacks into comebacks with the finesse of a sitcom character who always finds a way to land on their feet.

So, why should we care about STEM/STEAM programs? Because they’re not just preparing students for jobs that don’t exist yet; they’re preparing them for a world that doesn’t exist yet. It’s like training for a Quidditch match when you’ve only ever played soccer – it’s a whole new ball game, folks. STEM/STEAM is the ticket to a future where anything is possible, where students aren’t just passive consumers of knowledge but active creators of their own destinies.

In conclusion, STEM/STEAM programs are the ultimate educational power-up, the Mario mushroom that makes everything bigger, better, and way more fun. They’re the fusion of logic and creativity, the intersection of innovation and imagination, and the perfect preparation for a world that’s as unpredictable as a "Rick and Morty" plot twist. So, here’s to the future rockstars of science and art, the trailblazers of technology education, and the mad geniuses who will one day change the world with a paintbrush in one hand and a circuit board in the other. Let’s get STEAM-y, folks!

[amarantine-amirite]

The Christmas Eve Affair

“So, what brings you to Aurora on Christmas Eve?” the cab driver asked me, “Skiing?”

“I wish.” I said as I looked at the snow blowing across the road, “I have to write my SATs, and you're the only place that's open on Christmas Eve”

“Yeah, there are a lot of Muslims in this town,” the cab driver chuckled, “They don't call us Saudi Aurora for nothing.”

I laughed. “So, why are you writing your SATs on Christmas Eve?” she asked.

I took a deep breath and began, “I don't know if you saw on the news, but Rhode Island is planning to secede. That means we have to move, and move fast. The plan is simple. I go down to Aurora, write my SATs, spend the night, and the next day, I get on the train to Portland, and hopefully, meet my parents there.”

The cab driver shrugged. “Wouldn't it just be easier to stay put in Rhode island?”

“They can't be their own country,” I rolled my eyes, “They're stupid and they'll die.” 

We came within a hair's breadth of hitting a Sikh guy on an e-bike, even though e-bikes aren't allowed on the highway. Good old Saudi Aurora. It’s a city home to 300,000 people, none of whom can drive. “Out of the road, SpongeBob Turbanpants!” barked the driver

SpongeBob Turbanpants turned around and glowered. “This is why they don't let women drive in your country” he responded, gesturing at her A-Team print hijab.

“Shut up, you goat testicle!” the driver clapped back as she flipped him off. She turned to me and said, “Sorry you had to hear that.”

We spent the rest of the drive in silence. The car radio played “Heartaches” by Al Bowlly.

Check in for the SATs was shockingly simple. I presented identification, signed in, went through security, and entered the testing area. I didn’t, however, expect them to separate the boys from the girls. They had the girls do the math portion, then the language portion, and vice versa for the boys.they told us it was so that the girls couldn't cheat off their boyfriends during the math portion, but I'm not really sure how that tracks.

Things were fine until we got to question 13 on the math portion: obtain the roots for the following polynomial - x^5+x+1=2. They asked us to find the roots of a quintic that can't be factored.

Solving polynomials without factoring doesn’t seem fraught, but it’s really easy to get yourself into trouble if the degree of the polynomial gets high enough. Everybody can use the quadratic formula with ease. The cubic formula is messy, hard to remember and even harder to use. Messier still is the quartic formula, to the point that it isn't even worth memorizing. And a formula for quintics or higher? No such thing, my friend.

Quintic functions only have solutions if you can factor them or if they take on a certain form that lets you use other mathematical tricks, many of which aren't really taught to high schoolers. This one was neither. 

In the booklet they give you so you can show your work, I made a note saying that quintics of this form couldn’t be factored unless it met a specific set of conditions. 

Immediately after I finished the math section, one of the proctors pulled me over. “Excuse me, are you Margaret?” she asked. 

“Yes”. I noticed that she had a puffy face, skinny physique, and her name tag said Lucy. Her hair was the same dark brown color as mine, but it looked fake. 

Lucy pointed to my test paper. “We noticed a problem with one of your answers,” she replied.

“What kind of problem?” I asked. Outside, I'm calm, cool, and collected. inside, I'm freaking out because I think they think i cheated. I don't want to insist I didn't cheat. Saying you didn't cheat is exactly what someone who cheated would say.

“You were refusing to do your work,” she replied. The good news was, at least she didn't think I cheated

“No, I wasn’t,” I said. I pointed to the question. “That quintic can't be factored.” 

“No, it just takes time to factor, and you were in a rush,” Lucy replied with an exaggerated nod and overdone mouth movements. Her lipstick made her lips look like overfilled blood tubes.

“No, I wasn't,” I said, shaking my head, “It really can't be factored.” 

“Yes, it can.”

“No, it can’t.” At this point, I started sputtering nonsense. There was no way I could verbalize that the quintic presented did not meet criteria that would allow it to be factored.

“Keep your voice down, you're disturbing the other test takers,” Lucy barked. Her eyebrows creased so much you could put a penny between them and it’d stay put.

“They’re on break,” I said, “and you are louder than I am!”

Lucy exhaled forcefully, folded her arms, and said, “go. Get out of here. Now.” 

I left. Lucy went back and spoke with the other proctors. She then came back and said, “I spoke with my supervisor and you need to go in time out for the rest of the test.”

She led me away from the testing area to the time out room. The time out room had fluorescent lights on the verge of death, dingy wallpaper, bays of cabinets, and papers all over the floor. A trail of tiny humanoid figures led to a room with a single light bulb, orange curtains over an opening to a large laundry room, and a chair in the corner.

It got worse. While in time out, I heard a squishy noise and a scream coming from behind the orange curtain. 

I made the mistake of going behind the curtain and towards the source of the noise. What I saw next would undoubtedly be in my nightmares for the rest of my life: Ruth Washington and Denzel Chan.

I found Ruth sitting on the washing machine, leaning against the wall. She’d been hurt badly and had lost an eye. Denzel just died because they got split in half by a scissor lift. I only recognized them because they had their bulbous K-Pop pretty boy head on the outside and their feet on the inside.

Initially, I thought they were both dead. Ruth fell off the washing machine and her beaded locs clattered against the machine on the way down. She tried to stand up, but fell back over again. She was alive, but just barely. I had to act quickly before she too died.

I raced back to the testing area at record speed. I swung open the door, slamming it into the wall. I marched right up to the front of the hall and demanded, “I need you to call 911!”

Lucy walked away from me, patted a short, baby-faced proctor wearing a red turban on the shoulder and said, “Polynomial Karen’s all yours, Gursewak.” Gursewak looked at me and shook his head. “No,” he replied.

“Why the hell not?” I barked. 

“You’re singling me out because I'm Indian!” Gursewak clapped back, “That’s racial profiling!”

“No,” I said firmly,  “I’m singling you out because you have a phone at the ready.”

Gursweak didn’t care. “Do you English really expect us to have nothing better to do than make your phone calls,” he reprimanded. 

I gave Gursewak the most intense, focused gaze I could. I’ve got 8 inches on him, now was the time to make myself look even bigger. “I’m going to look past the fact that you called me English when you know perfectly well my last name is Strachan and repeat myself,” I said. My mouth dried up and I had to fight not to wrestle the phone from Gursewak’s hand. “I need you to call 911, now. Ruth lost an eye, she is bleeding. If we don't get her to a hospital ASAP, she is going to die.” 

Gursewak did nothing. “Boo hoo, we all lost somebody,” he said sarcastically. He refused to take what happened seriously.

I left the testing area and got my phone out of my locker so I could call 911 myself. Once I called, I got a 15 minute ad that I couldn't skip. Hey, you’re young and swingin’. No time to think about tomorrow. But there ain't no way to deny it. Someday, you’re gonna buy it!

It really freaked me out. The last time you want to be reminded of your own mortality is when you have to call an ambulance!

“Miss, put the phone down now!” I heard one of the other proctors bellow.

I turned around. “It’s an emergency, and I’m nowhere near the test center,” I barked

The other proctor approached me. “I'm not kidding,” she shook her head, “put down the phone and step away!”

I marched to the front desk and demanded they make the call for me. Once again, we got an ad that we couldn't skip. This time, it was an ad for antidepressants. Talk about an insult!

While the guy at the front desk was busy dealing with 911, I went back to the laundry room to check on Ruth. Tragically, but to nobody’s surprise, she died.

I didn't just lose two friends, I really messed up this time. The work I did on the SATs was voided, and I missed the second half of the test. I don’t see myself getting past this.

@humdrummoloch

[elearningcnp]

Benefits of Learning: Digital Classes for 9th & 10th Math and Science

We all know that 9th and 10th class math and science could be difficult. It is generally the first important year of examinations for students, which can be difficult. Parents frequently believe that taking their children to extra classes would help them perform better. While this may be true, it might be difficult for students.

That’s the reason why online courses come in useful. They work similarly to smart classrooms, allowing students to view and engage with the material they are studying. Instead of simply remembering information, people may observe how things function. Learning becomes as simple as installing an app!

Now, students in 9th and 10th grade do not have worries about their classes. Using digital class apps allows them to follow along with their math and science classes. It helps them understand every detail and increases their problem-solving abilities.

Students can also access lessons from other educational platforms when taking classes digitally. Therefore, you are free to explore different syllabi while you are studying the current one. These days, learning is more about truly understanding things than taking exams.

Also, look at the most recent 9th and 10th class syllabuses, which may be helpful!

Class 9 Math's: Unit-wise

Unit 1-Real numbers

Unit 2-Polynomials and Factorization

Unit 3-The Elements of Geometry

Unit 4-Lines and Angles

Unit 5-Co-Ordinate Geometry

Unit 6-Linear Equations in Two Variables

Unit 7-Triangles

Unit 8-Quadrilaterals

Unit 9-Statistics

Unit 10-Surface Areas and Volumes

Unit 11-Areas

Unit 12-Circles

Unit 13-Geometrical Constructions

Unit 14-Probability

Unit 15-Proofs in Mathematics

Class 9 Physics Syllabus: Chapter-wise

Chapter 1-Matter Around Us

Chapter 2-Motion

Chapter 3-Laws of Motion

Chapter 4-Refraction of Light at Plane Surfaces

Chapter 5-Gravitation

Chapter 6-Is Matter Pure?

Chapter 7-Atoms and Molecules

Chapter 8-Floating Bodies

Chapter 9-What is inside the Atom?

Chapter 10-Work and Energy

Chapter 11-Heat

Chapter 12-Sound

Class 9 Biology Syllabus: Chapter-wise

Chapter 1-Cell its structure and functions

Chapter 2-Plant tissues

Chapter 3-Animal tissues

Chapter 4-Plasma membrane

Chapter 5-Diversity in Living Organism

Chapter 6-Sense Organs – I

Chapter 7-Sense Organs – II

Chapter 8-Animal behavior

Chapter 9-Challenges in Improving Agricultural Products

Chapter 10-Adaptations in Different Ecosystems

Chapter 11-Soil pollution

Chapter 12-Bio geochemical cycles

The Telangana State Board (TS) students who are looking for the Class 9 Physics, Biology Syllabus can find it in the syllabus mentioned above. moreover, review the AP Class 9th syllabus also.

Class 10 Math and Science Syllabus:

The Telangana State Board Class 10 math's syllabus is given below; class tenth With the use of this TS 10th Class Math's Textbooks Syllabus, students may prepare for their final exams and have an effective understanding of the subject matter, therefore achieving the highest marks possible.

10th Class Math's: Unit Wise

Unit 1-Real numbers

Unit 2-Sets

Unit 3-Polynomials

Unit 4-Pair of Linear Equations in Two Variables

Unit 5-Quadratic Equations

Unit 6-Progressions

Unit 7-Coordinate Geometry

Unit 8-Similar Triangles

Unit 9-Tangents and Secants to a Circle

Unit 10-Mensuration

Unit 11-Trigonometry

Unit 12-Applications of Trigonometry

Unit 13-Probability

Unit 14-Statistics

Class 10 Physics Syllabus: Chapter Wise

Chapter 1-Reflection of Light by Different Surfaces

Chapter 2-Chemical Reactions and Equations

Chapter 3-Acids, Bases and Salts

Chapter 4-Refraction of Light at Curved Surfaces

Chapter 5-Human Eye and Colorful World

Chapter 6-Structure of Atom

Chapter 7-Classification of Elements – Periodic Table

Chapter 8-Chemical Bonding

Chapter 9-Electric Current

Chapter 10-Electromagnetism

Chapter 11-Principles of Metallurgy

Chapter 12-Carbon and Compounds

10th Class Biology Syllabus: Chapter-Wise

Chapter 1-Nutrition

Chapter 2-Respiration

Chapter 3-Transportation

Chapter 4-Excretion

Chapter 5-Coordination

Chapter 6-Reproduction

Chapter 7-Coordination in Life Processes

Chapter 8-Heredity

Chapter 9-Our Environment

Chapter 10-Natural Resources

The TS Board Class 10 Math's & Science topic syllabus is available above, complete with chapter-by-chapter details. Students can go through the most recent math and science syllabus to be aware of all the key subjects they need to study for exams.

Additionally, visit the below pages. We hope you found these pages useful:

Telangana Board Syllabus Related Links

Telangana Board Class 6 Syllabus

Telangana Board Class 7 Syllabus

Telangana Board Class 8 Syllabus

Telangana Board Class 9 Syllabus

[nonbinarynightmarefuel]

Since the dyscalculic experience isn't a monolith I wanted to chime in on my experience with it.

I have always been horrible at arithmetic, I didn't often understand very simple math concepts nor could I do them with any quickness. I wasn't skilled at memorizing math facts and I often made silly errors on tests and homework where I forgot a step or mixed up a number or did the arithmetic incorrectly.

In elementary school I went to a special education classroom for math because I couldn't fundamentally grasp it, and spent my recesses in fifth grade indoors solving mad minutes because I could never do within the time limit.

In middle and high school I struggled a lot with algebra, geometry, and factoring. I'm skilled at memorizing series of numbers/letters so the quadratic equation was easy for me to remember, but I didn't always get what to "plug in" correct.

I never had the ability to manage my time well. I couldn't estimate how long anything would take me to do or figure out ways to make things take less time. I was frequently late for school and late coming home. I couldn't manage to stay on top of homework partially because I didn't grasp how long it would take me to do. Analog clocks take me a long time to read, military time requires mentally doing a lengthy math problem for me. I was never good at estimating length or balance. I also always struggled with money because I would estimate I had more than I did, because I wasn't fully understanding how the prices added up to the total, nor could I adequately apply sales tax outside of the dollar store.

I am however decent at pattern recognition. Dyscalculia, like dyslexia, is a logical processing disorder.

In my first semester of college, right when I found out I'm dyscalculic (but my school records show it was identified in elementary school), I was taking a high school level algebra course and it just so happened to be taught by a professor who somehow, specifically, taught for dyscalculia. The way that he approached the numbers and math problems made sense to me and he spent a long time explaining and showing us how factoring works. He pointed out every pattern in the process so that we could use them to our advantage. He also allowed us to correct small mistakes. During this class I forced myself to do arithmetic without a calculator and I got really good at adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing, and using powers (for a dyscalculic).

A couple semesters later I took trigonometry and the unit circle is a big concept that you deal with and trigonometry and it is critical to understand it in order to succeed in the class and in calculus... It took me months to understand the pattern of the unit circle and that there was a pattern because nobody pointed it out to me explicitly. The day that we learned it and filled in our unit circle models (to be used for the remainder of the semester on tests) the teacher asked what came next and most of the students in the class knew what came next because they just innately understood the pattern... And I did not. But once I understood the pattern, I suddenly understood everything in trigonometry. The harder concepts were not more difficult for me to learn once I understood the underlying pattern.

But like all other areas of executive function and logical processing, it can be "built on" by making more connections in your brain. Therapy and education/learning can help create more connections for your brain cells to communicate better and it can improve dyscalculia to some degree.

The critical thinking skills I gained in college and the executive function skills I worked on with therapy tools helped me get so much better with math concepts, patterns, and numbers.

Also... Sometimes I just over-guess how much time or money something will take.

can you talk more about your experience with dyscalculia? I've been learning more about learning disabilities but I guess I'm not sure I "understand" dyscalculia, or what it actually does to peoples ability to do math (or understand numbers?) thanks in advance :)

Hi! Yes. So dyscalculia is basically a term that means you have trouble understanding anything involving numbers.

So time, measurement, math, etc. I’ve also seen from research that it can also affect your sense of direction and processing direction, which I think is true for me because I SUCK with directions.

It’s all very complicated. For me, math is a huge struggle for me. Anything above a fourth grade math level is a no, and even with things like times tables, I need a calculator.

Analog clocks are hard for me also, and take a long time to figure out. M ilitary time is so hard for me aswell and I can never quite grasp it.

I hope this helps! If you have anymore questions then let me know!

[allthingsarmin]

nerd!armin x popular bimbo girl!reader?

the reader needs a tutor so she asks the smartest boy on campus and they have a “study session” in the library

Thank you for your request! I hope you like it! (ALSO: I’m so sorry this took so long to write omgmgg please forgive me) ~ I also would like to write a better version of this later. Though I'm in love with this prompt, I feel I didn't write the smut part that well.

Minors DNI! NSFW below the cut. Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader.

_________________________

At this point, Armin’s legs were burning, his heart racing and hands uncontrollably shaking, while you were practically out breath, your lungs tightening as you released yet another hearty laugh and not caring about the sweat running down your forehead. Neither you nor Armin expected to be running away from the librarian at 2am in the morning on the cold, campus sidewalk, your hair and makeup questionably messy and his shirt noticeably unbuttoned with hickeys staining his neck. However, the thrill of it all was something you didn’t know you both needed…

Earlier:

“Y/n?” Armin questioned, waving his sharpened pencil in front of your face. “Are you paying attention?” He awkwardly laughed as he scratched the back of his neck. You look up at him, battering your mascara-covered eyelashes at him. “Ahh… I have no idea what’s going on,” you sighed.

Armin wanted to bang his head against the library table. He knew it would be difficult teaching the ‘campus bimbo,’ but he didn’t know it would be this hard… yet there he was. 1am on a Thursday, the test tomorrow, and you still couldn’t grasp the basics of quadratic functions.

“Why don’t we take a break?” he suggested, loudly dropping his pencil on the table, leaning back in his chair, and adjusting his disheveled collar poking out of his blue sweater.

“Okay!” you giggled mindlessly, turning to face him in your chair as you twirled your hair in your fingers. “Even though I’ll probably fail the test tomorrow, thank you for teaching me!” you exclaimed, fiddling with your compact mirror and checking your dolled-up face.

Armin tensed up at your backhanded words. Pushing his hair back out of frustration, he cursed the fact he was wasting his time with such an ai-headed girl. “Y-you’re welcome,” he hastily said as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Why didn’t he say no to your study session - if you could even call it a study session - ? Even though Armin was the school nerd, it’s no surprise to him that you came and asked him for help because, well… Everyone does that - always taking advantage of Armin - only talking to him because they want to use his neat, color-coded notes, only inviting him to parties so that he would later help them study.

You felt bad for Armin. Though you couldn’t deny he was way too uptight, everyone did make fun of him for every little thing; the way he dressed like a professor, how he was always so punctual, the way he was the first to raise his hand when the teacher asked a question, how he came extra prepared to class with extra pencils.

But being so close to him now, this was the first time you realized how handsome he actually was. His turquoise veins protruding from his soft, pale skin… his slender fingers gently holding his flashcards, his toned muscles peeking their way through his rolled up sleeves and making his clothes just a little tight, the sharpness of jawline contrasting with his kind, bright smile, the way his ocean blue eyes stared intently with such passion, and his thick, golden hair growing to his eyebrows, allowing his cute ears to shyly show themselves while his undercut beautifully shaped his face… he was beautiful.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you suddenly asked.

Armin was taken aback by this question. No one had ever asked him this nor did any one seem to have any interest in his personal life whatsoever.

“No,” he paused, “I don’t have time for that stuff…” he trailed off. Armin never had a girlfriend, and thinking about it now, he never really had any crushes. He was way too busy keeping up with his grades, extra curricular activities, and student council. It would be practically impossible for him to keep such close relations with his kind of responsibilities, but that doesn’t mean he’s not lonely… his arms aching for someone to hold, his heart cold due the absence of warmth of a person he loves.

Armin didn’t bother asking you if you had a boyfriend. You were the most popular person on campus, partying with countless dudes every weekend, hanging out with a large group of girls at the mall nearly every day, your phone buzzing so much during class that your professor told you multiple times to turn it off, and you were pretty - your hair was always done in a pretty style, your makeup (though a bit slutty) always brought out the best features of your face, your nails were always painted, your skin was smooth and silky, and your perfume scent was addicting. Not only that but your clothes showed off your body so well; your skirt that was just a little short allowed people to see your cute panties when you bend over to pick something up, and your shirt that was barely even a shirt was always cropped above your waist and showed off your bouncy, plush cleavage… so of course you had a boyfriend. But even though Armin was an incredibly focused nerd, he couldn’t deny that your sweet smell, tight clothes, and lipstick-covered lips made him lustful.

“Too busy for that stuff?! Aren’t you lonely? It’s like you don’t even know how to have fun,” you chuckle, jokingly hitting his shoulder which happened to be really muscular underneath his sweater.

“Haha yeah,” he said, seemingly uninterested in where you were going with this.

“If you’re so busy, does that mean you don’t have time to masturbate?” you giggled, covering your plump mouth with your hand and fluttering your eyelashes at him.

Armin became extremely flustered as tints of red washed over his body in waves.

“W-what?” he stuttered. “Why are you asking me these questions? We are supposed to be studying!” he quietly shrieked, looking away to break eye contact with you and playing with the watch on his wrist.

“Haha, I am just joking. You’re such a nerdy boy, just want to make you blush,” you sincerely smiled.

“W-well I am a young college student, so obviously I - I do that from time to time thanks to p-porn,” he stammered.

“Woah woah wait. Someone as uptight and rigid as you watches porn?” you harshly laughed, genuinely shocked. You scooted your chair closer to him and leaned into his neck, your hot breath caressing his skin and your hair resting upon his shoulder. “What kind of porn does this nerd like to watch?” you inquired, widely grinning as you saw how embarrassed Armin had become.

On the inside, Armin was fuming, mostling frightened that he had gotten himself into an embarrassing loop with no escape that would most likely be gossiped about amongst the popular students, but mostly angry that some dumb, slutty bitch was wanting to pry into his personal life, not even appreciating the fact that he spent countless hours in the library helping you study to no avail because you couldn’t pay attention if your life depended on it… that this same dumb, slutty bitch was just getting her fun from teasing some nerd who is taken advantage of and forgotten by everyone… angry that you - with your pretty makeup, plump lips, short skirt, and overflowing cleavage - weren’t paying the price for your teasing.

Suddenly, Armin sat up in his chair, his muscles tensing through his clothes, and an aggravated look forming across his face, wrinkling his brows. He quickly takes a fistful of your hair and pulls you close to his face, allowing you to see the different shades of blue in his eyes and his soft, blond eyelashes. His innocent, geeky look is nowhere to be found on his face as he intensely stares into your eyes.

“It just so happens that this nerd likes to watch useless, empty-headed bimbos like you get their pussies abused,” he said, dominance seething from his teeth as his mint breath hits your face. Before you even have time to think, Armin unbuttons his slacks and practically forces your mouth on his hard, pretty cock.

Watching you gag and choke on his cock with saliva dribbling down your chin made him laugh. “You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, slut, we’re in a library remember?” he coos. He abruptly pulls you off his cock, taking in the sight of his lipstick-stained tip and the mascara tears streaming down your face. His treatment was so harsh and so sudden, making you miss the ‘nicer’ and ‘quieter’ Armin, but you couldn’t deny his sudden dominance made your aching cunt flood with arousal.

Before doing anything else, Armin scans the library, making sure no one is around. Grabbing your wrist, he forces you to sit on his lap, facing him on top of the library chair. Everything happened so quickly, barely even leaving you time to think, barely leaving you time to think that Armin was using your body to relieve his anger and frustration, not leaving you time to realize how sopping wet your needy cunt actually was.

Sitting atop his lap, he spreads your plush, soft thighs, exposing the fact that you didn’t wear any panties to this study session, causing Armin’s eyes to widen.

“I don’t know why I’m so surprised that a whore like you wouldn’t wear anything underneath your short skirt to our little ‘play date,’” he snickers. He leans close to your ear, softly biting your neck. “It’s almost like you were asking to be fucked by me.”

You don’t know what to say. Your mind is so empty, fuzzy, and shocked that the only thing you can do is comply when he demands that you ride his cock. Armin lets out a low groan from the bottom of his throat as your tight, warm pussy encloses his thick cock. You let a pathetic whimper as he begins to thrust up into you, and Armin gives you a glare, reaching up and tightening his hands around your throat. “Remember, you have to be quiet, or are you too dumb to remember that?” he sinisterly smiles.

Armin begins to harshly thrust into you as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding onto dear life as he deeply penetrates your spongy, sensitive walls. He slithers his slender hands into your shirt and starts toying with your nipples and pinching them when you’re being too loud.

Groping your ass, he whispers in your ear, “you know, I don’t even know why you’re in college… you’re so dumb. Why don’t you just drop out and be my little slut for when I come back after class, huh?” You sink your head into the crook of his neck, embarrassment coming over you at the same time as pleasure fills your walls when he tells you those mean words.

He grabs your hair, forcing you to look at him. Your hair is a tangled mess, your makeup completely smeared, and your eyebrows furrowed as your innocent-looking eyes beg for some type of release.

“F-fuck, you look so dirty,” he groans, leaning his head back.

“And you look like two students who are going to be in so much trouble…”

Both of you tense up and look behind you to find the librarian staring daggers into your souls.

Immediately, you hop off of Armin’s dick, gathering your things as he struggles to pull up his pants. Both of you at an ungodly speed bolt out of the library doors. Yeah, getting potentially banned from the library would suck, but maybe it was something you both needed. Armin needed to learn to loosen up, have some fun, and you needed to learn to take things seriously and maybe just put in a little more effort.

“Ya’know, it’s kind of late. We can go back to my dorm, and I can help you study for maybe another half hour… if you want,” Armin shyly asks as you both continue running down the sidewalk.

“What about the other half hour?” you questioned.

Armin’s face grows red. “We can finish… chemistry…”

[stressy-enby]

Hi is it ok to make a enimes to lovers tenya iida?plzzz with a grung y/n???

Yes yes yes YES YES YES

So, as I’m typing this, I’ve got a Google tab with pictures of grunge fashion behind my Pages document because I had no idea what it was before and now I’m obsessed. I can totally see Iida falling for someone with this type of style, it’d be so cute! 

This ended up being really long skjfguanspdifhaosdi

Hope you like what I whipped up!!

Never Hated You

Masterlist

Prompt List

. . . 

“(L/N)! Get your feet off of the desk this instant!”

You groaned loudly as the class rep marched up to your desk, a stormy look painted across his face.

“Iida, chill out.” You rolled your eyes and crossed your ankles on top of the desk. “I’m not hurting anyone.”

“Be that as it may, I will not stand for the disrespect of school property!” Iida blustered. “Do you have any idea how many great people have sat in your desk, learning to carry on the mantle of hero? How can you sit here and put your feet up on-”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, dude.” You rolled your eyes again, making a big show of putting your feet down. “There, happy?”

“Quite.” The bespectacled boy bristled, not looking happy at all.

You chuckled, waggling your fingers in farewell as Iida returned to his own desk. Kirishima, in the seat in front of you, leaned back. “You sure do like riling him up, huh?”

“Someone’s gotta teach him that not everything needs to be taken so seriously.” You shrugged. “Besides, he’s kinda hot when he’s angry.”

“Dude!” Kirishima laughed in surprise.

“Am I wrong?” You snorted, gesturing to the boy in question, who still looked very irritated, and very handsome. 

Did you find Tenya Iida wildly attractive? Yes, yes you did. You were very vocal about that and you found no shame in it. That being said, did you also find him a little annoying? Yes. So he was not saved from your constant teasing and pestering.

At the beginning of the year, you realized that you seemed to be the epitome of everything Iida detested. You were brash, not afraid to pick a fight, and always had some witty remark to make. You never wore the complete uniform, opting to leave your gray blazer at home, replacing it with your favorite leather jacket. The prescribed neat little shoes had been swapped out in favor of your old combat boots. Iida had just about had a conniption fit when he’d first met you.

Realizing that the overly serious boy was constantly up your ass, and that he was in point of fact very cute, you made it your personal mission to annoy him to the ends of the earth. 

It worked spectacularly. Sometimes a little too spectacularly.

On multiple occasions you pushed too much, resulting in boorish lectures from the much taller boy that you could’ve slept through, if not for the decibel at which he gave them. It never seemed to deter you though. The next day you’d come back with a self-satisfied grin on your face as you plunked your boots up onto your desk. He was too cute for you to stop.

Over time, you stopped teasing him just for the sake of being an asshole. Though you’d never admit it out loud, Tenya Iida was starting to grow on you. You lightened up on the torture, only to spend more time actually trying to get him to talk to you. He always seemed suspicious of you though, to no fault but your own, you figured. So you made him an offer he couldn’t refuse.

“Hey, Iida.” You leaned against his desk after class one day. “Think we could get together over the weekend and do homework? I’m having a little trouble understanding the math stuff.”

“You want me to help you with homework?” Both of the class reps eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. 

“Yeah, man,” You affirmed, chuckling. “Who else would I go to?”

Yaoyorozu. Midoriya. Todoroki. Iida listed in his mind. All of them are doing exceptionally well, and you don’t make yourself the bane of their existences.

“It’s just,” Iida pursed his lips, organizing his thoughts. “I certainly wouldn’t mind helping you if you really need it. I didn’t think you liked me very much, though.”

“And I didn’t think you liked me, but here you are, telling me you wouldn’t mind helping me out.” You chuckled, and smiled sadly. “I’ve never disliked you, Iida.”

. . .

To say you confused Iida would be the understatement of the century. You appeared to him as someone who didn’t care one bit about structure or rules. But as he sat next to you in a coffee shop, explaining quadratic functions, you seemed to really care. You poured over your homework, a pensive look on your face, turning to him every time you came across something you didn’t quite understand.

“I don’t get it.” He said quietly as you scribbled away at your worksheet.

“Really? Cause I’m just starting to.”

“No, not the homework.” Iida sighed, staring at you.

“Then what’s up?” You put your pencil down, matching his gaze.

“Why do you go out of your way to aggravate me so often if you don’t dislike me?”

The question caught you off guard. You glanced away, almost guiltily.

“At first, I did it just to get a rise out of you.” You admitted. “I guess I started getting fond of you though, and I realized that annoying you was the only way to get you to talk to me.”

Now Iida was the one to be caught off guard. “Y-you just wanted to talk to me?” He repeated.

“Yeah, and I thought I had ruined it.” You placed your head in your hand, and swirled your drink around in its cup with the other. “I thought I had provoked you too much by the time I realized I wanted to be your friend. I honestly thought you hated me.”

“Never!” Iida was shocked by the idea. He very rarely hated anyone. When his brother had been attacked, that was the first time that he had ever felt that boiling pit of rage in his stomach. “You irritated me to no end, yes, but I never hated you.”

“Hey, I’ll take it!” You conceded with a laugh.

Iida found himself laughing with you. He watched as smile lines etched themselves onto your face as your grin widened.

“(L/N), what say we start over?” He suggested. “I would like to be your friend, too.”

You gave the boy a disbelieving, yet giddy smile. “I would be more than happy to do that, Iida.”

. . . 

Something very peculiar was happening to Tenya, and it seemed to be your fault.

When you playfully teased him, he swore his heart rate accelerated to five times what was normal. Whenever he said something that made you laugh, he felt like he was on top of the world. He felt butterflies in the pit of his stomach when you’d put your hand on his arm.

None of these feelings were bad, per se. In fact, they actually felt quite good. It was like a calm washed over him whenever he was in your presence. He felt more relaxed than he’d ever been when he was around you.

So, there was no problem with what was happening, but that didn’t stop Tenya from still being wildly confused. 

The feeling also made him want to protect you.

This too was a mystifying thought. He wanted to keep all his classmates safe, of course, but somehow it was different when it came to you. But you were perfectly capable of protecting yourself, you being an excellent hero. You had great control over your quirk, and you knew your limits. Not to mention you “kicked ass” in combat training, to use your words.

Tenya knew all this well, in fact he reminded you of it regularly during training. So why, when villains dropped into the clearing of the training camp, was his first instinct to get in front of you? Why did he grab your hand and pull you closer to him as you ran with your classmates back to the main building? Why did his hand linger on your shoulder even when you were inside and out of the danger?

You asked yourself these questions, too, but you didn’t complain. It’s not like Tenya Iida grabbing you and holding you protectively was a bad thing, but he looked too pale for you to resign yourself to not questioning him.

“You okay, Bub?” You asked, glancing up at the bespectacled boy in concern. 

“What? Oh, y-yes, sorry.” Tenya separated himself from you, but you grabbed his hand before he could get too far, pulling him back to your side.

“This is scary,” You muttered as a way of explanation, your face heating up.

Heat rushed to his face as well, but he didn’t try pulling away again. He readjusted your grip so it was more comfortable. “Yes,” He murmured back in agreement.

You stood in silence for a moment, listening to the rest of your classmates chatter away in fear. You squeezed Tenya’s hand. He repeated the gesture. 

“Tenya?”

The sound of his given name pushing past your lips pleasantly surprised him, but he quickly shook off his confoundedness. “Yes?”

“I was going to tell you something tonight, but I’m afraid my plans have been ruined.” A wobbly smile crossed your face, but it fell almost immediately after. “Once this whole ordeal is over, and we’re all back at school safe, remind me to tell you then, okay?”

“Why can’t you just tell me now?”

You shook your head. “Now is defiantly not the time.”

“Well, alright then.” Tenya squeezed out hand again. “Although I’m afraid you’ve made me quite anxious to hear what you have to say, (Y/N).”

You smiled weakly again at hearing your own first name. “Now you know what it feels like when a teacher tells you to see them after class, Mr. Class Rep.”

. . . 

Tenya remembered your request as he was putting books on a shelf in his new dorm room. He stopped short, the conversation replaying in his mind. As much as he wanted to march himself over to your room that very instant, he resigned himself to waiting.

“I’m still not done settling in,” He muttered to himself, surveying the several boxes filled with personal belongings stacked neatly in a corner. “And (Y/N)’s probably still unpacking, too.”

A new-found vigor to his actions, Tenya found himself hurrying to complete his task. It had only taken the few days spent at home away from you and a quick conversation with his brother for him to realize that he had a crush on you. Reject the idea as he tried, it made a lot of sense. 

He chuckled humorously to himself. What had you done to him? He used to see you as nothing more than a misbehaving delinquent who constantly went out of their way to get on his nerves. So what happened? What did you do?

You befriended him. You had looked at him with that sad, sincere smile, and told him that you thought you’d ruined your only chance of being friends with him. You’d heard him out as he heard you out.

It wasn’t a question of what you had done, not anymore. It was all Tenya.

He had given you a second chance. And he never regretted it for one moment.

He still didn’t regret it, even when you grabbed his arm and tugged him along with the rest of the class to survey everyone’s rooms. He still didn’t regret it even when they got to his room, and you put on a pair of his glasses, flopping onto his bed as you teased him for the shelves full of matching frames.

He especially didn’t regret it when they got to your room, where you proudly stood next to a wall of printed out photos of your friends. Tenya’s eyes drifted to a shot of you and him at the fair, both of you holding ice cream cones.

“Pictures taken moments before disaster,” You remarked, following his eyes and tapping the wall next to the photo cheekily. He smiled, remembering how mere seconds after taking the picture, you had tripped over his foot and fallen flat on your face, taking out not only yourself and your ice cream, but Tenya’s as well.

Ask them, he urged himself as the class headed back to the ground floor. The question never seemed to escape him, though. In fact, when he rushed back inside after he, Midoriya, Yaoyorozu, Todoroki, and Kirishima had been pulled outside by Tsu and Uraraka, you had already gone up to bed.

That’s it. 

Tenya was a man of thought and intellect, not one of action. When the job called for it, he of course sprung to do his part, but not before carefully assessing the situation and weighing his options. So he surprised himself by going up to your room without a second thought, determined to get whatever it was you had hinted at out of you.

“Woah, didn’t I just see you?” You smiled coyly as you answered the door. “What’s up?”

“I wanted-” Tenya paused, eyes narrowing. “Wait, you still have my glasses.”

“Astutely observed.” You sighed, reluctantly handing them over. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice. I wanted to see how many days I could wear them before you realized they were yours.”

“You might’ve gotten away with it, if not for me being here now.” Tenya admitted, pocketing the spectacles. “I didn’t realize before.”

“So that’s not why you’re here?”

“No, during the training camp you said you wanted to tell me something, but that you wanted to wait until the… situation was over.”

You made a face. “I was hoping you had forgotten about that.”

“Why? Is it bad?” He asked nervously.

“No, just… weird. I only told you because I was scared we wouldn’t make it out of there alive, but now I’m regretting it.” You sighed. “Come on in, I may as well tell you.”

Tenya closed the door behind him, watching cautiously as you sat on your bed with a huff. “If you really don’t want to tell me, you don’t have to.”

You considered for a moment. “How long have you been holding onto this?”

He blinked in surprise. “A few hours. I only remembered this afternoon.” 

“A few hours is all you need to get worked up about something. There’s no sense in me not telling you now,” You rubbed your eyes, looking both physically and mentally exhausted “especially if I promised you that I would.”

“Alright then, if you’re sure.” Tenya hesitantly sat himself next to you, now wishing he hadn’t bothered at all.

“Okay, so, uh, we’ve been friends for a while, and I’m really happy for that.” You started, rubbing your hands together thoughtfully. “And I don’t want to put that friendship in jeopardy, but recently my feelings towards you have changed, and I feel like you deserve to know.”

“Have they now?” Tenya’s heart pounded so loudly he worried you could hear it. He wondered if your feelings were anything like his.

“Yeah, they’ve gotten a little more… romantic.” You sighed heavily once again, seeming to resign yourself to your fate. “Okay, I’m gonna just say it: I really like you Tenya. More than as a friend. You’re stubborn, adorable, and always know just what to say, and every time I see you I just wanna kiss your stupid face all over and tell you that you deserve the whole damn world, because guess what? You do!��

Time seemed to tick to a stop. Tenya himself froze, his body stiff and his tongue limp in is mouth. Then his face exploded in color, and all at once, he gained control over his body again. His arm gestured frantically in his regular tic, and his words seemed to trip over each other in an effort to be heard.

“W-w-well thank you for your kind words! I greatly appreciate you telling me this. I have also recently c-come to the conclusion that I, uh, e-enjoy your company more than a friend should as well! I-I’m not sure what this means for us moving forward, b-but-“

You wrapped your fingers around the hand chopping the air wildly. You pressed your lips to his cheek, and rubbed your free hand up and down his arm in a soothing motion. You laughed lightly, but there was no mockery in it. “Thank you, Tenya.” You whispered. 

The boy stiffened once more, before naturally relaxing, leaning into your touch. He mirrored your soft, loving smile, placing his hand not being held by you on your knee gently. “Of course, (Y/N)."

[channoticedmeuwu]

i wish my delicate years of youth weren't being wasted on striving for a capital letter with a plus sign on a piece of paper, which would probably not even have a life changing effect on me, just momentary joy lasting about 30 minutes. But actually being spent doing things that I could actually attain genuine knowledge from. I should be learning, I should be traveling, I should be laughing and I should be making memories. I should be experiencing and I should be exploring, and I should be discovering who I am. I don't want to have to voluntarily give away a prime stage of my life that I'll never get back to a bound-to-fail system that will only teach me to be materialistic and master the skill of remembering things without actually attaining any information or lesson from, and then forgetting it a few days later.

i want to be carving all my friends' names into tree bark, and I want to be looking into a mirror and liking the shirt I thought would look bad on me, I want to be stuttering on my words when I try to order myself a coffee and I want to be petting a stranger's dog on the street. I want to be nibbling flesh off pomegranate seeds and I want to be sitting in a garden painting a blackbird under the sun. I want to holding my tongue out for snowflakes and I want to hold my bestfriend's hand to keep them warm and I want to scream a countdown until the the clock strikes 12 so I can do all of this over again.

I don't want to be made a clone so I can only do one thing, I don't want to be subjected to useless things like the quadratic formula and inverse function of x, and I don't want to subject the future generation to that either.

I want to discover my true meaning of life because everyone else has their own unique version of it. I want to understand how it feels to be glad that I was born into this world full of art.

I don't want to look up at the sky and wonder "what's the point?" I think that once we starting doubting a system we structured and built ourself, we were bound to be doomed. We should have done something about it, not turn a blind eye. Because of that, I have to sit here and wonder if trying so hard is even worth it. I hate having to pity myself because of being born, something I couldn't even control.

I JUST WANT TO LIVE IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?

[zukossocialskills]

what's funny about being the autistic "gifted kid" is ur way of learning. (idk if this is a common experience but i was thinking about it the other that and thought it was funny.)

like, you never had to really put effort into learn things or study bc it just gets in your head, but learning how to do something?? my brain says "absolutely not".

and it's the really random things that i decide to learn the most difficult ones. i have an above average iq and a special interest in math, but watch me trying to play sudoku or solve a rubix cube by myself bc i swear i'll get it NO I WON'T LOOK IT UP I CAN DO IT.

and people think i'm like an expert on things but it's just like:

x: hey, what are you doing?

me: just taking a break from pre calculus, i'm playing sudoku.

x: oh, i had no idea you studied precalc and played sudoku

me: i don't. i'm absolutely failing trying to solve this and i refuse to ask my math teacher to teach me calculus.

ofc that dialogue hasn't happened. it's just an example of how my brain works.

i remember wanting to learn quadratic functions by myself and just googling "quadratic functions worksheet" and said to myself "i'll figure this out eventually".

learning something the right way, asking someone who knows about it to teach me?? absolutely not. learning it my way, throwing myself at whatever i want to learn, and probably not learning it properly? YES

[fukurodaze]

if i ever get lost

pairing/s: third year!haiba lev x gn!reader genre: fluff, romantic tension aka best and softest tension word count: 3.2k warnings: like, one curse word this was also requested by anon! “3rd year Lev w a reader who’s struggling to pass all their homeworks, projects and quizzes (bc they piled up their works ;;) while thinking of how should they study for college/uni entrance exams?”

special thanks to nat @natszoo​ and ellie @lcnelyinthesky​ for beta reading and helping me w this!! 

LISTEN TO: somebody loves you - jeremy zucker; glitter - benee

lowercase intended!

you throw your head back when you forget the term written on the flip side of the flash card haiba lev is holding. it’s a friday night, far past anyone’s bedtimes, but final exams for the first semester start on monday and you’re not sure where to start. haiba lev, being the person who has nothing better to do, agreed to come over and flip cards with random kanji, english, and biology terms on it.

lev might also be here because it’s an open secret that he’s liked you since first year, and you’ve never answered to his feelings, but you’re thinking friends for now - until you memorise all of this semester’s kanji, english vocabulary, and biology terms, that is.

“the phospholipid bilayer is made up of...”

lev gives you time to think, his wide eyes going between the answer on the card and your thinking face.

“shit, uh, the phospholipid bilayer is made up of two layers of phospholipids?”

“makes sense, but no.” lev answers, flipping the card to show you.

“the phospholipid bilayer is made up of a polar, hydrophilic area containing a phosphate group bound to glycerol, and a non-polar, lipophilic area containing fatty acids...” you read aloud, trying to memorise what’s currently going out your mouth, in one ear, and out again through another ear.

“you know, your flash cards are pretty comprehensive.”

you raise an eyebrow, “is that... a good thing?”

“i mean, yes and no,” he takes another sip of the tea your mom had insisted to bring to guests, “it’s harder to memorise, but it’s better for details. but-”

“but?” you watch as he takes another sip. 

“i think if you really don’t know where to go, just understand the basic concept of everything. for one - what is the function of the bilayer?”

“why do you sound smart?” you question, tilting your head jokingly.

“hey! i am smart! most times! with tests like these that have essay questions, you just gotta learn the basic concept of each term and connect them.” lev advices, recounting his former volleyball captain and nekoma high school alumni, kuroo tetsuro’s, words when lev himself was barely scraping past his first semester finals when he’d just transferred.

“easier said than done in two nights,” you slouch your head on your desk, “plus! it’s not just biology. or exams.”

if memorising all these terms in the span of two days sounds bad enough, you’re still crushed with the supplementary course work and projects due next week as well. 

you let out a deep groan. you’re so tired. it’s like biology information only comes up when you’re studying for english, biology only coming up for modern literature, and mathematics somehow being inserted into the little unknown kanji in modern literature. it’s all too much at once.

“it’s all too much at once, huh?” lev places his head on your desk, only a few inches away from your face. normally, you’d push him away, pull your head back up, or maybe even give him a light slap on a bad day, but today you welcome him. 

you nod, quiet. you haven’t been able to get a breather. it’s essay this, quiz that, lab report here, test there. your mind is blank.

now, lev sits back up on the extra chair from your dining room, “have you eaten dinner?”

“why are you asking... it’s like, midnight.”

“the question still stands.”

you sigh, “nope.”

lev hums. he takes a pen, then twirls it, like his fingers possessed polar magnets that somehow let the pens never fall from his hands. but it does eventually, and when it falls with a plastic click on your wooden desk, lev visibly takes a big breath and says, “do you want to get ramen?”

you exhale through your nose and smile. “are you asking me out, haiba?”

“is it inappropriate to ask you out now?”

damn this tall dork. come to think of it, he’s never actually asked you out despite the obvious ways he’d vouch for your attention in the past. you’re quite surprised, frankly, as he’s always been so loud in the ways he’s wanted to be with you but never really made it seem like anything was going to happen. 

but, hey, it’s late enough for you to put down your doubts about him away. after all, he’s been in your room for four hours, just helping you study. he wasn’t even studying himself - he just sat there, doing almost nothing. and for a guy like him, you wonder how he’s managed to keep there for so long.

“sure.”

lev’s eyes widen. “wait, really?”

“yeah,” you begin to set aside all your study materials, “we can go to a twenty-four hour place in the city, too.”

“alright! let me get you your coat!”

“my coat?” you raise an eyebrow when he hands you the coat you wear the most, feeling both flattered and slightly surprised that he recognises it straight away from your messy room. the boy comes to retreat his coat as well from one of the hangers in your room, and he even offers to get you your socks and boots.

“alright, alright, you don’t have to be that ready to go,” you joke. 

he makes sure there is no noise when you two walk out of your house, through the suburbs of tokyo and to the nearest train to the city. 

“aren’t you two a bit young to be here so late?” the shopkeeper, an old lady, mutters under her breath. you catch it through her croaky voice when you and lev enter the place together, but you pay no attention because all you care to focus on is the smell of broth and your empty stomach.

“for two, please,” lev says, undoubtedly hearing the woman’s remark, but answering with a smile. she smiles too, and so do you, and it makes you remember all the times he’s smiled and you’ve wanted to either punch him or hold his hand. 

today just happens to be one of those days where you want to hold his hand. you shake the thought off.

when you two are seated at the ramen bar, your head falls onto your palm, tilting back to face lev, his chin covered partly by his usual maroon scarf. you had whispered to him earlier on the train what you wanted to order, and lev quickly speaks to the waiter as your tired gaze rises from from the squiggly wooden patterns embedded in the polished wooden table to the boy that’s sitting right next to you. 

at first glance, you remember haiba lev’s face to be satisfying to look at. you remember when he had just transferred to your class in the first year, and you developed the annoying habit of looking forty-five degrees to the right every time you were bored in class, as you thought his face was much easier on the eyes than complex quadratic equations or japanese history. 

for a while you wondered if it was because he certainly looked different - not only was he practically a giant, but he had eurocentric features that stood out from the majority of the student body as well (it also didn’t help that he quite literally and figuratively filled any room he was in). though, maybe, after a while, when everyone got used to the sight of a new face, you kept your line of sight at a forty-five degree angle, just peering above his cheekbones. the same way you’re looking at him right now.

and really, the only word for it is handsome. dashing. good-looking. you’ve always known that, but now that you put it into words in your head, you notice the chiseled jaw, pointed nose and emerald green eyes feel a bit more-

“what you staring at?” his baritone voice cuts through your thoughts cleanly.

you don’t like where this conversation will go. “haiba, are you doing any college entrance exams?”

lev cocks his head to one side, thinking, before nodding, “i think i am. why?”

“how are you studying for them?”

lev clicks his tongue, and it brings you to surprise, “get your mind away from studying! we’re not here in the city at, like, one in the morning to talk about college entrance exams!”

you sigh, “okay, fine. but, still, answer my question?”

“i just do practice problems for twenty minutes every day,” lev shrugs, “okay, now, can we move away from studying?”

you hum lazily, watching as two bowls of ramen arrive at the bar. he had ordered what you told him you wanted to order, both bowls almost identical in smell, shape, size, and content. almost, because lev didn’t have any spring onions in his bowl.

“haiba,” you call, earning a quick call of your name in response, “do you not like spring onions?”

lev nods so obviously that he seems proud. his chopsticks mix the entire bowl together before picking up the half-boiled egg and eating the slice whole. when he swallows it down, he asks you, “you noticed.”

“i mean, yeah,” you reply, “why do you not like them? they’re like, essential.”

lev takes a slurp of his noodles, and then a spoonful of the broth, “i just never liked their texture - which is funny, since my entire family loves adding spring onions.”

now it’s your turn to slurp into your ramen, one bite turning into two, and two turning into the entire content of the bowl. lev seems to eat twice as fast, seemingly having a strategy to cooling down the hot noodles on his spoon while simultaneously folding a piece of pork charsiu in between the loops of each spoonful of noodles, making sure that the little wrap is bathed in a little bit of broth. you find yourself smiling at his act, almost like he has a system of his own when it came to eating ramen - well, he usually had a system of his own when doing just about anything.

the meal is quiet for the most part, with little mumbles of how your tea needs a refill and the ruffling sounds between sheets of tissue to wipe off the broth around your lips. it’s fulfilling, and the look on lev’s face says he’s happy too.

when you two make it out of the ramen bar, 1am feels the same as 9pm. somehow, you’re no longer the kind of sleepy you were when you were flipping through flashcards on your desk, and instead, you’re almost dreading to go home. you think it might also be the neon lights, but there’s some kind of electricity you’re not yet willing to let rest for the night.

luckily, lev doesn’t feel the need to rush. although his steps are big and his voice is loud, he takes his time when you two make the silent agreement to make the walk to the train station as long-winded as possible. his voice is lower, and softer, this time, and when he speaks to you about his friends from his old school, you convince yourself it’s the most interesting topic in the world - because it is. because it’s lev.

when he stops in his tracks, you stop too, watching him go into a small trinket shop you’ve always seen but never had the means to afford to go in. you reckon you might own something from this store, though.

“haiba, you like little trinkets?” your eyes scroll through the shelves of delicate and virtually useless items, eyes landing on a small lion cub made of clear resin with a small blob of gold floating in the middle of its clear body. you’re not usually drawn to any animal trinkets, as you’ve gotten used to decorative objects like bows or feathers or lace, but today you think about the lion cub. despite it looking severely overpriced, you take it in your hand anyway, not noticing lev’s figure coming right behind you.

“do you want that one?” you yelp in surprise when he says that, turning around to find yourself so close to him you could smell the dried raindrops on his padded coat.

“i’m pretty sure it’s overpriced. trinkets are usually overpriced anyways.”

“wait, let me check it,” you hand lev the trinket, “how much is your keychain?”

you furrow your eyebrows, “what?”

“you know, the keychain on the bag you bring to school.”

“oh,” you try to remember the time you had saved up for that keychain, “i think it was about three thousand yen? it’s overpriced. definitely.”

“well, this one’s only two thousand and five hundred. i’ll get it for you.”

“wha- lev!” you whine, “you’re going to make me feel bad- wait what’s wrong?” you see the boy freeze up in front of you, a big smile creeping onto his cheeky face.

he doesn’t reply for a bit, and you’re faced with raised cheekbones and a wide mouth. you try again, “was it something i did? or said?”

“you called me lev,” oh, you did. 

now his smile spreads from ear to ear, and it’s spreading to you. “you never call me lev.”

“huh, well.” you bite the inside of your mouth, “i guess now i do.”

it’s enough for you to let him spend over two thousand yen on a single trinket. you watch as he waits for the trinket to be wrapped neatly in pretty paper and put in a pink cardboard bag, its motif pretty enough to be its own product in the store. 

you stand by the doorframe of the store, mouth ready to open with the words ‘i’ll pay you back’. but it seems like lev had heard you from the future, and before you could do anything, he tells you, “don’t pay me back. this is my gift to you.”

“for exams?”

he grins. “you know, lev means lion in russian.”

the bell of the store rings as you two make your way out, this time really going back to the station. you answer with a ‘really?’ at his fun fact but you keep it to yourself that you’ve known ever since he first transferred and everyone had asked him about it. 

“yeah, and the thing’s a lion cub, so, it’s like you have me all the time!” 

you giggle, walking up the steps to the train platform. “you’re really something, lev.”

lev stretches his arms out, with long limbs you swear ghost your shoulder. you get that feeling again, in your hands, where you just can’t seem to understand why you want to take his hand in yours so bad, so you ask the boy if you can hold onto the bag with your trinket. lev passes it to you, and you hate how you would’ve liked for your thumb to graze over his thumb for longer. you hate it even more when he motions you onto the train, and in a blur, you take his arm, leading him to corner seats on the train. you feel your face heat up. 

ah, so that’s how it is.

now you’re conflicted. not that lev had ever made you feel uncomfortable - no, never - but you had never known how to return his obvious feelings. he would act on them, as always, and one day, as you fell asleep one day after final semester exams in the second year, leaning back into the plastic seat of a suburban tokyo metro rail (which lev thought was very dangerous), lev had muttered in the quietest and most subtle manner, ‘what do i do with my feelings?’

then, in a haze, with eyes barely open, you had moved your head from your seat to his shoulder, painting his cheeks red - dumbstruck. he thought you forgot about it the next morning, and you barely remember, so nothing happened afterwards. yet, when you think of him, you think of hues of orange peeling the sky into purple; of freshly washed school uniforms; of heads leaning on shoulders and fingers intertwined. you don’t know how to answer him.

with lev, there is chatter and laughter and blunt remarks that almost get him slapped in the face. still, there is a box, bigger than the bag your trinket is in, that contains words that you don’t think you or lev have ever said in pure daylight and wake. 

“hey, lev?”

you want to open that box.

“yeah?”

but you don’t know how to do it yet.

“the phospholipid bilayer is made up of a polar, hydrophilic area containing a phosphate group bound to glycerol, and a non-polar, lipophilic area containing fatty acids.”

lev exclaims a series of ‘oooh!’s in delight. 

“was that correct?”

“um,” lev gulps, “i think so? i mean- i think so.”

but you will open it, sooner or later, and it rings in your head when you step off the train and walk into the neighbourhood. right now, nothing is different - the air is not heavier, his eyes do not sparkle like love interests do in the movies, and you do not look through a rose-coloured lens. monday is finals, and the weekend is studying. you tell yourself this.

lev stops at your doorstep, and you almost feel a sear in your chest at the thought of him leaving for the night. 

“so, good luck with next week, y/n.”

you nod, trinket bag in your hands, “you too, lev.”

you find that your arms are opening up, a small pout on your face as lev comes to wrap his arms around you, coats shuffling against each other as you hold each other at three in the morning. 

when you pull away from the hug, you start to ramble a bit, scrambling for new topics to bring up in hopes of just a few more seconds with him - that, and trying to stop yourself from your newfound want to cup this boy’s face in your hands and kiss him square on the lips. you wonder if he would be good at kissing, and you wonder how much you’ll regret having these thoughts tomorrow. 

but even conversation dies when you know it’s getting too cold, so you bid your sweet goodbyes and promise him not to overwork; he reminds you that it’s better to do short but frequent study sessions than fewer and highly intensive ones. you nod, your boots heavy on your doorstep, the hushed sound of keys in doors slowly becoming the only sound you hear as you assume lev’s left already.

until he calls your name.

your head spins fast towards the boy, watching as he makes long strides to stand at your doorway once again, scarf prodding the tip of his nose, so close to your face. he’s red.

“during exams, or tomorrow, or studying for entrance exams- if you ever get lost-” he pants, and unties his scarf from his neck.

“you’ll find me, okay?” the scarf comfortably hangs around your neck now, covering your mouth. he pats your head twice. it’s warm - literally. 

you barely get the chance to say anything before he darts out of your house with a quick goodbye. you’re left confused, flustered, and excited at once, and this time, you think you might have the words as to why. 

you like to imagine you taste sweetness, see eyes that sparkle, and feel butterflies in your stomach. 

“it might not be so bad,” you whisper, looking down at the pretty little bag containing one unnecessarily expensive item lev had bought you.

right; you have feelings for him too. 

then you make up your mind: you’ll tell him next friday. and if your finals stand between tonight and next friday, then, all the more motivation to get through them, right?

you make sure to set an alarm for seven in the morning, kanji textbooks lined up for tomorrow. 

[bukatra]

To anyone who is not from America wondering how Americans got to be so fucked up, this is a song called "Dont stay in school" by Boyinaband. It is not a parody or satire or an exaggeration. These issues have been plaguing American school systems for decades.

(The school he is referring to is the years when a child is 5-18 years old. This is mandatory in America and culminates in a high school diploma. The experiences he describes are from public education. Private schools may have different experiences.)

I wasn't taught how to get a job

But I can remember dissecting a frog

I wasn't taught how to pay tax

But I know loads about Shakespeare's classics

I was never taught how to vote

They devoted that time to defining isotopes

I wasn't taught how to look after my health

But mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell

Never spent a lesson on current events

Instead I studied The Old American West

I was never taught what laws there are

I WAS NEVER TAUGHT WHAT LAWS THERE ARE.

*Let me repeat, I was not taught the laws for the country I live in*

But I know how Henry the VIII killed his women

Divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, survived

Glad that's in my head instead of financial advice

I was shown the wavelengths of different hues of light

But I was never taught my human rights

Apparently, there's 30, do you know them? I don't.

Why the hell can't we both recite them by rote?

I know igneous, metamorphic and sedimentary rocks

Yet I don't know squat about trading stocks

Or how money works at all, where does it come from?

How does the thing that motivates the world function?

Not taught how to budget and disburse my earnings

I was too busy there rehearsing cursive

Didn't learn how much it costs to raise a kid or what an affidavit is

But I spent days on what the quadratic equation is

Negative b, plus or minus, the square root of b squared

Minus 4ac, over 2a

That's insane, that's absolutely insane

They made me learn that over basic first aid

Or how to recognise the most deadly mental disorders

Or diseases with preventable causes

Or how to buy a house with a mortgage

If I could afford it

'Cause abstract maths was deemed more important

They say it's not the kids, the parents are the problem

Then if you taught the kids to parent, that's the problem solved then

All this advice about using a condom

But none for when you actually have a kid, when you want one

I'm only fluent in this language, for serious?

The rest of the world speaks two, do you think I'm an idiot?

They chose the solar over the political system

So, like a typical citizen, now, I don't know what I'm voting on

Which policies exist, or how to make them change

Mais oui, je parle un peu de française (but yeah, i speak a little bit of French)

So at 18, I was expected to elect a representative

For a system I had never, ever, ever been presented with

But I won't take it

I'll tell everyone my childhood was wasted

I'll share it everywhere how I was "educated"

And insist these pointless things

Don't stay in school

[bryanna-depiro]

a message to the education system

How is school? You expect me to smile and tell you it’s great. And usually that’s exactly what I do. I wouldn’t be taken seriously if I was honest, because I’m too young to be stressed. I’m too young to be physically exhausted. I’m too young to have bags under my eyes that makeup can cover but can’t remove. I’m too young to be under this much pressure. Yet here I am. If you want an honest answer, then listen attentively. Listen with an open mind. Listen with understanding.

School is waking up at six o’clock every morning to get ready. Always feeling tired no matter how much sleep I get. Drinking two cups of coffee to avoid crawling back into bed. Rushing out the door so I have time to stop and get more coffee that I can barely afford just to keep my eyes open. School is sitting in classrooms for an hour and forty-five minutes at a time learning things that I will never need. How do you pay taxes? I couldn’t tell you. How does credit work? I’m not sure. But I can solve a quadratic equation, or I can identify the molarity of a substance because I’ve spent hours trying to understand pointless information rather than learning how to be a functioning member of society.

School is coming home after six hours of doing classwork just to do three to six hours of homework. Maybe more if you’re in honors or A.P. classes. You ask why I don’t just take easier classes. It’s because I’m not just expected to have good grades, I’m expected to get good grades in hard classes. Because school is a competition. It’s a competition to have the best GPA. It is a competition to look the best on paper. I am not a human in the education system, I’m a GPA, I’m a number, I’m a statistic. Freshman year I was a 4.0 walking eagerly through the halls, then sophomore year I was a 4.0 with a smile that had faded from exhaustion. I was a 4.0 running on 2 hours of sleep if I was lucky. I was a 4.0 who never spent time with my friends or family because I had too much homework. I didn’t even know why I was doing it. I just knew that I was ‘supposed to’.

What is school? It is being told what I am ‘supposed to do’. I am not old enough to come and go as I please. I am supposed to ask to go to the bathroom. However, I’m old enough to be expected to have the rest of my life planned out. I’m old enough to have all of this stress put on me, but I’m not old enough to be stressed. What is stress? Stress is leaving school after being there for six and a half hours, and going straight to a part time job for five more hours, and then coming home to a pile of homework and having to choose between sleep or my grades. School is having to choose between my own physical and mental health or my grades.  Enjoy high school you say to me, you only get to do it once. When do I get to enjoy it? When I’m done with the work that keeps stacking up like bricks? You ask why I don’t quit my job. My job is not the problem. At work I’m treated like an adult. At work I learn actual life skills. I earn money in order to be independent. I pay my insurance, I fill my gas tank, I buy my clothes, and my school supplies, but I am not old enough to be stressed.

School is exhaustion. It is the sleepless nights spent doing busy work that won’t benefit your life in the long run. You ask why I don’t drop out. I wouldn’t know what else to do. School is the only thing I know. We are put in the education system as children and not given other options. We are told that you have to do well in high school, to go to a good college, to have a good future. That is ‘the plan’ that we are fed as children.

The school system has one plan that is expected to work for millions of students. Yet half of us don’t have a plan of our own. We are spending thousands of dollars, taking out student loans, acquiring student debt, and half of us don’t know what we’re working towards, because we are constantly changing, and what we want changes with us.

School is anxiety. We are taught to memorize not to learn. In the real world we can use resources, we can talk to our peers, and we can use the internet, so why can’t we do that during tests? Instead we are isolated, and tested on how well we memorized the information, because that’s just how it’s always been. The world has changed dramatically in the past few decades and the only thing that has changed in schools are the lunches. All of the stress and anxiety of tests are just more grades in the system, and all the information we were supposed to ‘learn’ is forgotten the minute we hand in our tests.

I have learned to strive in this system, and so have many others, but we shouldn’t have to. I don’t want my children to have to choose between sleep or their algebra homework. I don’t want my children to be running on empty throughout high school. I want them to look back on their education and remember learning the information in class, not memorizing the information at two in the morning in their bedrooms. I want my children to have time to spend with their friends. I want my children to have time to do the things that they love. I want my children to have time. How was school? I’ll ask. And they’ll smile and tell me it’s fine, because they’re too young to be stressed.

[sprnklersplashes]

heart of stone (16/?)

AO3

Cady almost drowned once.

She was a kid, and thankfully her dad managed to save her before it got too far. Her parents were observing a nearby river and decided to take her with them. She had wandered off, her parents distracted by their work, and leaned too far over the side and she fell in. For a split second there was nothing and she remembers when she hit the water, the way the water rushed in and filled her lungs, her naïve attempts at breathing failing. She had tried to swim, or even just to move, but she was six, and all rational thought fled her mind and one word replaced it; “help”.

That’s how she feels now. She opens her mouth but nothing comes in or out. The phone is pressed against her ear, her fingers still and cold like a statue’s around it. It was late evening when Janis had called her, but now time has lost all meaning. It may well have been hours since she picked up the phone, she doesn’t know. All she knows is what Janis has just old her, and they’ve sat in silence as both their worlds crumbled around them, the amount of time is anyone’s guess.

Janis breaks the silent first, and there’s a stab of guilt in Cady’s chest when she does.

“Caddy?” Cady bawks a little at the sound, the nickname reserved only for Janis. “Caddy please say something.”

“I…” She wipes her face, her fingers coming away stained black with streaked mascara. “I’m sorry, Janis.”

“Oh… thanks.” Her heart breaks even more than it had when she hears Janis sniff, and that wasn’t something she had thought possible. “Yeah it um… it sucks, I guess.”

“It does.”

‘Sucks’ is too weak a word for this, but Cady can’t think of the right one either. Nothing works, and what might work sounds fake. As does everything she could and wants to say now. She can’t ask if she’s okay because it’s obvious she isn’t, nobody would be. She doesn’t want to ask for the details because it will either break one of them or both of them. And she doesn’t want to change the subject because only a complete and utter jerk would do that.

And she also really, really doesn’t want to hang up, or for her to hang up either.

At least they seem on the same page with that.

“So who else did you tell?” she asks finally. Her pillow is held close to her cold chest, her fingers toying with the fringe around it.

“Damian,” she sighs. Of course. “My parents were already there when I heard so that was a bullet dodged. I think they have to be here. Because you know, I’m a children. I need parental supervision apparently.” A fraction of a smile tugs on her lips and there’s a faint, faint warmth in her chest, present but barely making an impact against the cold. She’s still her Janis, no matter what. “And then I called you. I thought at least this time you should hear it from me.”

“Thanks.” It’s not that she holds it against her for not telling her the first time, not at all, she had her reasons and Cady can’t be sure she wouldn’t have done the same.

“And… Regina.”

“Regina?” That gets Cady up to attention, the shock so fierce it actually manages to distract her. Janis talked to Regina? Willingly? About this? She looks up and tries to see if she could find any flying pigs zooming past her window. “You told Regina?”

“Yeah,” she replies, her voice shaking. Then it all comes out, rushing like water through open floodgates. “I don’t know, I was scared and upset and I needed to talk to someone but I didn’t want to hurt you or Damian and… that happened.” Cady leans back on the bed, digesting the information piece by piece. On the other end, Janis pants heavily like she just ran a marathon and while reason says it’s from her confession, her anxiety starts to climb. “Are you mad?”

Is she?

“No,” she says. It’s the best answer. “I’m… a little confused. Surprised, maybe. But not mad.” She shrugs then. “You had your reasons.”

“You’re the best,” Janis sighs. As they fall silent again, Cady’s mind wanders and she imagines what Janis must be doing now, what must she look like. Sitting on her hospital bed probably, clad in her pyjamas and beanie, looking out at the black sky outside. It hurts her just picturing it and her arms ache with how empty they are. If she could be anywhere else, she’d be over there with her, wrapping her arms around her and pressing kiss after kiss to the back of her head.

“Hey, Caddy?” she whispers in a broken voice.

“Mm-hm?”

“You know when you… when you found out?” she asks. “And I said to you that if this gets too hard for you to handle that you can… That I need you to promise to walk away if this gets too much?”

She shakes her head.

“I don’t like where this is going-”

“It’s just that the next few months are probably going to be really hard on me. On us,” she cries. “And I know how much you have on your plate.”

“It’s not like the last two months were peachy either,” they remind her.

“That’s different,” she says. “We thought we had an endgame then and now…. Caddy I’m just saying that the offer still stands.” She swallows thickly. “That you can…. You can leave if you want. If this gets too hard.”

Cady lets out a long exhale, their fingers digging into the covers. Back then they had mentally crossed her fingers when she made that promise and that hasn’t changed now. If anything, her resolve has only grown. They don’t think she could even get the words out.

“And I’m just saying that I’m not leaving,” they say steadily. Tears sting at their eyes, their breaths coming out ragged. “If you’re in this then I’m in this Janis. To the end.”

Janis is quiet for a while after that, so quiet that Cady fears she may have hung up.

“Wow,” she croaks. “That was passionate.”

“Yeah, well,” they shrug, pushing their hair off their shoulder. “We Leos are like that.”

“So you believe astrology now?”

“I didn’t,” they say. “But Gretchen did this whole thing at lunch the other day and mapped out everyone’s birth charts. And I don’t know, I was kind of into it. Besides… it said that Leos and Scorpios are most compatible.”

“And who are we to argue with the stars themselves?” Janis asks, bemused. It feels good, both to hear her happy and to smile herself, if a little out of place.

Cady lays down on their side, face pressed into the pillow.

“So you believe me then?”

“I’d be a fool not to,” Janis says. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.” The words feel strong, stronger than anything she’s ever said before. She doesn’t think she’s ever meant something quite like she means this. “I am.”

“Okay. Okay.” She shifts on the other end, groaning and muttering something under her breath. “Caddy…. I-I appreciate this. Thank you, a lot. I mean it.”

“Thank me by getting better, okay?” they say. “Then you can take me on the big fancy three course dinner.”

“Given my bank balance it’ll be a Taco Bell,” she says. “But it’ll be the best damn Taco Bell you have ever had in your life.”

“That’s fine.” A fresh wave of tears runs down her face, her voice so tight it’s in danger of fading altogether. “Janis, I…”

“I know,” she whispers. “I know.”

She wipes her face again, her sweater hanging over her hands. The conversation’s run its course now, nothing left to say, but the idea of hanging up doesn’t feel right to her. She doesn’t know if it’s because of what she just told her, her need to be with her more because of it, or if it’s just plain old-fashioned missing her. What she does know is that thinking about saying goodbye hurts, a physical ache in her chest.

Luckily, Janis is on the same page as her.

“So what are you doing right now?” she asks. “Or… what were you doing, I guess?”

“Homework,” she sighs. She rolls onto her back and looks up at the ceiling. “Studying. The usual.”

“You know I never thought there would be a time where I actually missed math,” she sighs.

“Well how about on Friday I come over and teach you equations?”

“Ooh, you really know how to flirt don’t you, Heron?” she teases. “Romantic evening with you and some quadratic equations. Sounds like fun.”

“Oh I wouldn’t bore you with quadratics. I’d throw in some limits and functions too. I’m flexible.”

“I love when you talk nerd to me,” she mumbles and laughter lines her voice. Cady rolls onto their side, legs tucked up a little and despite everything that’s happened, a sort of golden warmth blossoms and spreads through her. She wishes she could somehow bottle this feeling and carry it around with her. Hold it close on the days when it feels far away. “How’s the tutoring going?”

“It’s going.”

“See normally when people say that they mean ‘it is going terribly’,” Janis tells her. “It’s what the waitress tells you during rush hour.”

“Fair enough,” she laughs. “But it is. It’s going good.” She hears a hum on the other end and then she somehow feels Janis smiling.

“Tell me about it.” It’s a soft request if there ever was one, and Cady sinks even further into the pillows.

And she tells her and answers her every question and laughs every snarky comment. She closes her tear-filled eyes, just to try something and when she does, it feels as though Janis is lying next to her, her face just inches from hers, her hand close enough to touch.

                                                                                               *****

She goes into school early the next day, when the sky is still dark-ish and the streetlamps are still on. Her breath forms in smoke in front of her face, dancing before her eyes. At some point last year, when she was still pre-Plastic, Janis blew in her face and played at being a dragon. She smiles at the memory, her cheeks warming as she does.

The janitor must have just turned on the heat when she comes in, her hair damp from the shower that just started as she was crossing the courtyard. She heaves a heavy sigh as she pulls it into a ponytail and heads towards her locker. Her schedule is pretty packed for today, her free periods used for tutoring and then a Mathletes meeting after school, so thankfully she had packed a substantial lunch for today.

Maybe she should have taken a snack bar too, she thinks as she judges the paper schedule taped to her locker door. Or at least an extra bottle of water.

“You’re crazy,” she mutters to herself. That’s what the water fountains are there for aren’t they? With her backpack balancing on her knee, she starts taking what she needs and putting them away again, knowing she won’t have time to get to her locker until lunch at the earliest. Her shoulder twinges as she puts it on and she gives it a rub. It’s fine, really. Nothing she can’t handle.

She throws the other strap on, closes the locker and turns to make her way to homeroom. She wasn’t so early that the school was deserted, but none of her crowd are here. A few freshmen wander around the halls, now adjusted to North Shore and even building their own little groups. Cady has to admit, it hurts her heart a little when she sees them sometimes; they look like reflections of her own peers last year. Not quite as fragmented yet, but the cliches are distinct even if people can move between them. Last week the walked past a girl with flowing hair, a powerful strut and two others following in her wake and she had to do a double take to make sure she wasn’t actually walking past Regina.

“Cady!”

“Woah!”

This time she actually was walking past Regina, nor more accurately nearly walking into her. She catches herself just in time and backs up, not out of fear, just out of courtesy, the way she’d treat anyone else.

“Sorry,” she breathes. “Wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Do you ever?” she asks but there’s no cruelty in the words anymore. Cady laughs and adjusts her bag on her shoulder. Regina’s hair is tied back in a ponytail and a gym bag sits on her shoulder. Cady winces. “Early morning practice?”

Regina gags and sticks out her tongue, giving Cady all the answer she needs.

“Running around in the mud at 7am, great way to spend a day,” she moans. “It wasn’t too bad, really.” Cady raises in eyebrow, sceptical, and Regina huffs a laugh. “Why does the soccer team get the nice, warm gym and we’re made to practice outside.”

“It’ll benefit you in the long run,” Cady reasons. “You know, practicing in the elements. You watch, the soccer team won’t have that advantage and then they’ll screw up their first game.”

“I hope so,” she says firmly. “They deserve it for putting us through that. Walk with me to my locker so I can put this away?”

“Sure.”

“I also think it’s because we’re girls,” Regina goes on. “And Mr Duvall doesn’t want to give girls’ sports the same level of importance he gives boys’ sports.”

“Oh come on, Mr Duvall isn’t sexist,” she tells her.

“Maybe, but the sports department, I’m not so sure.” Cady snorts a laugh, but it’s only a seconds-long distraction from the tight feeling in her stomach. Despite the easy conversation with Regina, there’s something bubbling below the surface and she can’t be the only one who feels it. She definitely isn’t. And the more she tries to ignore it, the more it lingers. By the time they reach her locker, Cady feels it standing over them, breathing down both of their necks and she can’t ignore it any more.

“So… I heard you talked to Janis.”

It comes out like an accusation and Regina freezes at it. her mouth falls open and eyes remain forwards, trained on a spot in her locker.

Janis had asked if she was mad, and she wasn’t. At least she thinks she wasn’t. She doesn’t know what she’s feeling and it’s a not a good feeling when you don’t know anything, let alone your own feelings. Regardless of that, she just offers a casual shrug when Regina finally faces her.

“Um… yeah,” she says. “She just needed someone to talk to. Believe me I was as shocked as you are.”

“I’m not shocked,” she says. “That much.”

“It’s okay,” she tells her. “Really.” She closes the door and leans up against it, her jaw set. “Are you okay?”

She nods, the word ‘yes’ forming in her throat but not making it to her lips. Regina lets out a long breath and drums her fingers on her arm.

“It definitely sucks,” she says.

“Can’t argue with that.”

Regina opens her mouth a fraction, but before she can say whatever it is, her phone pings and with it, Cady’s heartbeat triples, quadruples, in less than a second. Without warning, every possible scenario flies through her head and the few seconds she takes to check drags out into hours, and Cady bites back a scream.

“It’s Karen,” she says. “She says um… flamingo emoji, bus emoji, book emoji, two girls holding hands.” She rolls her eyes fondly. “I can’t decipher any of this, can you?”

It’s only when she looks at her that Cady realises she hasn’t breathed yet. She nods and looks at the screen as she tries to remember how her lungs work.

“Um, well…. She uses the two girls holding hands emoji when she’s with Gretchen,” she mumbles. “And then she’s on the bus, probably doing homework.” She hands Regina back her phone. “Not sure what the flamingo means.”

“Okay…” Her voice trails off as she puts her phone back into her jacket, her gaze never leaving Cady. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” She winces at the sound of her voice; how high it is. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Regina doesn’t answer exactly, but the face she makes says ‘literally every reason under the sun’. Cady runs a hand through her hair and shakes it out.

“I’m fine,” she tells her. “Really. Just a little worked up.”

“Oh.” She straightens up and smiles, and for a second Cady sees a glimpse of the old Regina, only minus the malice. All the sweetness she feigned when they met seems real now, but her pull is as strong as ever. “Well, come on, I’ll walk you to your home room.”

Cady nods and lets Regina put her arm around her and talk whatever at her, her nerves calming but never disappearing for a moment, sparking under the surface of her skin all because of one text message that wasn’t even to her or from Janis. The floor she walks on feels like it’s made of glass, and she keeps her footsteps light so that it won’t break.

As they walk, she slips her hand into her jacket pocket and taps her phone, waiting to feel it buzzing On her very first day here, way back when, she had listened intently when Principal Duvall told her that phones were to be kept switched off for the school day and only meant to be used in an emergency. She took that seriously, so seriously that seeing Janis with her phone out at lunch nearly gave her a heart attack. She only began breaking that rule when she was full plastic and that was only to take silly pictures of herself or check her socials.

At least she’s breaking rules for a good reason this time around.

Her hand barely leaves her pocket all throughout the day. It’s either in it or sitting around it, tapping the back of her phone to make sure it hasn’t disappeared on her and she doesn’t-she can’t calm down all day, not even for a second. Not even when she gets to calculus, which is meant to be her safe haven. No amount of numbers in all their beautiful logic can calm the frantic humming of her mind, nor can it quell the incessant tapping of her pencil against the desk.

She mumbles an apology to her desk partner Jason before he goes and sees him rolling his eyes when he thinks he’s out of eyesight. She heaves her bag onto her shoulder and heads for the door with her books clutched against her chest, her hair falling forwards past her face. She’s just a foot away, maybe less, when she’s caught with a hand on her shoulder.

“Cady!” When she turns, Ms Norbury is standing behind her, wearing the same kind of warm, inviting smile she had the first day she met, the kind that makes Cady feel like she could collapse into her arms and tell her everything. “You got a minute kid?”

“Sure.” It’s lunchtime anyway so the room isn’t being used and her friends won’t mind her being a few minutes late. She follows Norbury and perches herself on the desk, her feet swinging slightly. Norbury raises an eyebrow, but she doesn’t react. Perks of being a Mathlete, Cady guesses.

“So… how are you doing?” she asks, leaning on her own desk. She doesn’t quite meet Cady’s eyes and the tension in her grip on the wood tells her everything she needs to know.

“You know, don’t you?” she asks. “About Janis.”

“Her parents like keeping the school updated,” she answers. “Keep us in the loop. It’s nice of them.” Cady hums and after hours of her trying to push it down, the lump in her throat only grows bigger and threatens to choke her. “And I know it’s hard on you.” Another hum and Cady wonders if she’ll actually be able to do full sentences today. Norbury cocks her head, biting her lips a little. “Cady? You okay?”

“Fine,” she says. She looks down at her clasped hands, only noticing for the first time how ragged and short her nails are. It must have been months since she last picked at them, but now the skin is red and raw and there’s barely room to put nail polish on them if she wanted to. She swallows thickly and allows a little more to creep out. “It’s hard, I guess.”

“You guess?” she asks. Cady almost smiles at that and pulls her cardigan tighter around her. “It’s okay, Cady.”

“Yeah.” She presses her palms together tightly, her shoulders squeezed tightly.

“And I’m sure you’ve been told this by just about everyone in this place,” she says. “But if you ever need anything… I’m here. If you need to talk or anything.” The image of her and Norbury having a heart to heart in the math supply cupboard flashes through Cady’s mind and while it’s funny, it’s not exactly far-fetched. After Janis and Damian, Norbury is probably the person she trusts most, and who knows her best. She may not have had every detail of last year, but she saw enough to piece it together. She was the one who got her out of it really. Showed her who she really is. “Or if you need to lessen your workload-”

“No.” She shakes her head so firmly and so quickly that her neck twinges. Norbury’s mouth falls open, a near-silent ‘oh’ escaping it. “I don’t need- I don’t want any kind of special treatment.” She shifts on the desk, pressing her hands together. “Thanks.”

“It’s not any kind of special treatment, Cady,” she tells her. “If you’re sure-”

“I am.” Her voice is so much stronger than she thought. And stronger than she feels. “Besides, I’m handling it. And it’s-it’s good isn’t it? All this work?” She shrugs. “Keeps my mind busy I guess.” Norbury nods, an understanding smile on her face.

“Well, if there’s anything you ever want to talk about, I’m here.”

“I appreciate it, Ms Norbury. Really.” She feels there should be a hug here, hell, she sort of wants there to be a hug here, but they’re both still in school and school rules still apply. So for now, the soft smiles they give each other are enough.

“Okay you run along now,” she says, making a shooing motion with her hand as she does so. “Don’t want to hold you back from your lunch.”

She huffs a laugh at that and readies herself to go, but when she looks at the door, all she feels is this sinking feeling in her chest. Suddenly the hallway isn’t made of linoleum tiles but of quicksand and walking to the cafeteria won’t kill her, but it may take a lot out of her. In here she feels the safest she has all day, away from people’s prying eyes even if they are well-meaning. She could go and eat in the bathroom, but bathrooms are breeding grounds for gossip and she’s not that pathetic, not any more.

“Ms Norbury?”

“Mm-hm?”

“Can I…. can I eat in here?” She doesn’t know if eating lunch in her math classroom with your teacher is better or worse than eating in a bathroom stall, but she’s willing to try. Her head snaps up, her eyes wide behind her glasses. “I mean, it’s fine if you can’t, you’re probably busy.”

But her face breaks out into a smile, and she puts her lunchbox on the desk and nods.

“Of course you can hon,” she says. “And as it would happen, I was just about to whack on a podcast. You ever listened to Mathematically Speaking?” Cady shakes her head. “Oh you are in for a treat. Come on, I’ll put the volume up. Don’t just sit there, get out your food!”

Cady grins and takes out her own lunch before sending Damian a quick text about a lunchtime study group. Odds are he’ll figure out that it isn’t true sooner or later, but odds are also that he’ll understand. She crosses her legs on the table and leans on her elbows as Ms Norbury explains everything about the podcast and her failed attempts to get the rest of the math teachers into it. It may be considered geeky, to spend lunchtime sitting listening to people talk about math, but Cady loves it all the same, and more importantly, she can breathe with relative ease throughout it and she only worries when she door opens for two seconds, only for it to be another teacher asking to borrow textbooks. The best part is that she can have her phone sitting in her lap, in full view, and Norbury doesn’t even question it.

At the end of the day she’s almost tempted to skip the Mathlete meeting. Despite her brief reprise at lunch, the whole day had sucked all the energy out of her, leaving her feeling like a shadow by her last class. Not just feeling, when she went to the bathroom she saw the dark smudges beneath her eyes, the paleness of her skin and the mess that is her hair. Even if it’s nothing a bit of borrowed make up can’t fix, it still shocks her quite a bit. Maybe she could fake sick and get out of it. Maybe she wouldn’t need to fake it, she thinks.

But the idea is tossed aside quickly, so much so that she nearly scowls at herself in the mirror. The Mathletes needed a leader after Kevin G graduated and she’s taken up that position. Besides if Kevin knew that she was even thinking about ditching he’d be mortified. Betrayed more than any human being has been betrayed and he would certainly tell her as much. Probably with a Star Wars analogy.

So after a moment spent alone in the bathroom, Cady lifts up their chin, reapplies their make-up and heads off to the classroom, powering through the halls as heads turn in their direction. Like everything that happens here, news about Janis must have spread by now. Someone says something to someone, who says it to another someone, who says it to another someone. And on and on it goes until everyone knows, even the people who never knew her. But they know she’s Cady’s girlfriend and the weight of the pitying looks propels them faster down the hall until they practically stumbles through the door.

“Hey Africa,” Tyler greets from where he sits on the desk, his legs crossed. The nickname has stuck eve if they’re far from ‘the new kid’. It feels nice, strangely, although they’d hate it coming from anyone else. It keeps her connected to her roots. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Right,” she sighs. “Today’s agenda.” They shake their head and would slap themselves if they were alone. This isn’t time for emotional Cady, or distracted Cady. This is time for Mathlete Captain Cady, the Cady who has everything organised down to the bathroom schedule and who walks into team meetings with a smile and a bounce. That’s the Cady they chose to be their captain, and she took on that mantle with pride. The only issue is that Captain Cady seems to be having trouble coming to the front right now. “Um… so last week we looked at strategies for our next contest. And we started going back over trig.” They let out a breath, their hands steadying. Maybe this will be easier than they thought. “And at least we’ve gotten past qualifiers now.”

“Yeah but that was the easy part,” a girl speaks up, an AP Calc girl whose name Cady should know. Something beginning with a J, they think, but the rest is blank.

“Yes thank you for that,” they mumble. Heat prickles at their back and they shift from one foot to the other, their chest suddenly tight. Maybe it’s the running they did to get here. “Um… can we open a window here?”

“A window, it’s freezing.”

“Okay, strike that then,” they mumble. They take out their planner and flip through it, the paper slipping through their sweaty fingers until they find the right page. “Okay so for today I thought we’d move on to statistics. I know a lot of us have that down, but we can’t afford to slip up on it, especially since, as we saw on the videos last week, that tends to be the area most teams ignore.” They smile and wipe their hand on their jeans. “Sound good?”

“You’re the boss,” Tyler says, and they’re almost put at ease by it.

“Okay, so I got out these packs and, oh shuck!” They slap their palm to their head in an almost comedic fashion. “I’m so sorry guys, I completely forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“The packs,” they groan. “I downloaded these amazing packs from the Internet, made by this guy who was the captain of his school’s winning mathlete team, and I printed them out, I-I think I printed them out, and they’re either in my room or in my locker.” They try to rack their brain, but their head feels far too warm and everything is disorganised; a jumbled, incoherent mess that they can’t even hope to sift through. In their mind’s eye they see a half-formed picture of them putting them in their locker, but they can’t work out if it’s real or just wishful thinking. “I-I know I printed them but I can’t remember where I put them.” They run their hand through their hair two, three times and when they blink, there’s the unmistakable feeling of tears in their eyes.

Oh God, they can’t be crying. Not over this.

“Hey, Cady,” Tyler says softly. He’s risen from his seat, his hand extended towards her. “It’s okay. Really. I mean our next contest isn’t until when?”

“When?” they echo. “Oh, oh God, um…” They flip through the planner again, through pages of carefully glitter pen. “Oh, it’s not for another three weeks.”

“See, so we’re good,” he says. They nod and try to take a deep breath, giving Tyler a grateful nod. “Okay, so for this week, I say we start going over statistics. Start from the basics and work our way up. We all have our textbooks right?” The room nods at her, but it doesn’t do anything for them. They wish more than anything they could collapse into one of those chairs and bury their head in numbers, to let someone else take the reins for once, but unfortunately, that’s not in the cards for the captain. Instead they take out a whiteboard pen and open the textbook, swallow the lump in their throat, and get to work.

Ms Norbury slips in a bit later, coffee in hand and mumbling an apology about a staff meeting having ran late. By that time they’re already half way through the chapter and Cady has managed to keep the fact that they’re completely falling apart mostly under wraps. For once they’re thankful that so few people join Mathletes. They’re not so sure how they’d fare in front of a bigger crowd than this.

They call for a break not long after, the rest of the room leaning back in their chairs and exhaling loudly, heads dangling backwards. They all love Mathletes, but as they days get shorter and school piles up, they take all the breaks they can get. Cady tries to follow her peers’ leads, to let their shoulders drop or to even exhale, but their body won’t obey. They feel like a wound-up toy, just one turn of a key away from snapping and falling apart.

“Cady?” Ms Norbury appears at their side, hand on their shoulder and concern in her eyes. “You doing okay?”

“Fine,” they say. They push their hair out of their face, wincing at their fingers catch on the knots. “Fine. I um….” They try to breathe, but they feel like someone is pushing down on their chest and as they look around, the room seems to shrink. “Uh… I’m going to go check my locker. I think there’s some- you weren’t here but I said I printed out some stuff and I might have left it in there. So I’ll-I’ll go check.”

The hallways aren’t much better- the walls far too close no matter where they stand and the ceiling pressing down over their head. At least they’re alone, no other people to push past or questions to avoid.

They pull to a stop beside their locker, their clammy hand on their chest, finding their heartbeat frantic below their shirt. A small, pained whimper escapes them and a metallic taste hangs around in their mouth. They lean against the locker and inhale and exhale until they feel some degree of normal. Maybe they should have skipped Mathletes today, regardless of what Kevin would have said.

Slowly, they reach into their back pocket and pull out their phone, the screen cold and soothing to their warm skin. When the screen lights up, the one thing they find is an email from a magazine they subscribe to. No messages, not even when they go through every social media they have to double check.

Trembling slightly, they hold the phone against their chest. No news is sometimes good news-that’s what their mom likes to say. Lately it often feels like any news is bad news, at least on the Janis front. And they’re just waiting from update to update with a growing feeling of dread. They don’t know if and when something will happen, if tomorrow morning they’ll wake up and find that she’s either better or worse, if this ends or it goes on. And it’s exhausting, all this waiting. Especially since if something does happen, they probably won’t be the first to know.

“Cady?” They nearly jump into the ceiling at the sound of their name. When they look up it’s not Ms Norbury they find but Tyler, wringing his hands awkwardly. Their name almost sounds unfamiliar in his voice, having been called ‘Africa’ so many times. Tyler holds up his hands awkwardly, either in surrender or defence. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” they say. They turn around and fiddle with the locker combination, their fingers slipping and fumbling around it. “I was just-”

“Yeah, yeah I know,” he says. “Um… look Cady, some of us where talking.” The hair on the back of her neck pricks up at that and her fingers freeze. “We know you’re under a lot of pressure right now. I mean, we all are but…. I think you’re going through more than the rest of us.” They hum, trying to sound as casual as possible, but in reality their knees are shaking. “And you know… if you wanted to maybe step down or take up a co-captain… that’d be fine.”

“No.” Their voice is surprisingly strong given how weak they feel. They turn around to face Tyler, their hair swinging behind them, and their hands curl into fists. “Look Tyler I know you mean well… but I’m not stepping down.”

“Hey, it’s not like that,” he tells them. “You’re definitely one of the best captains we’ve ever had. I mean you’ve got us so much further already. Kevin picked a good one.” He smiles at them then, and Cady can’t help but smile back, even if it’s muted. “I’m just saying that I know you’re going through a lot with Janis right now. Maybe taking some stuff off your plate might help you out.” He shrugs. “We just want you to be okay. We’re not kicking you off the team, Africa. We’d be idiots to do that.”

Cady bites the inside of their cheek, the tension slowly releasing from their hands. Tyler isn’t not like some others in this school, he might be a bit of a Dude sometimes, but he’s sweet and he’s honest, even if it’s brutally, and most of all he cares about them, about everyone. He looks out for people. He doesn’t talk down to people, not intentionally.

And he might have a point.

Kind of.

“Thank you,” they say eventually. “But… no. I’m fine. I’ve got this. I’m just…. Adjusting.” They cross their arms over their chest. “It’s been a rough day.”

“Yeah… I heard,” he says, his voice small. Cady nods. They don’t ask how, they’re pretty sure they don’t want to know. “But… if you’re sure you’ve got this.”

“I am. Besides,” they grin. “You losers wouldn’t last a week without me.”

“Oh that’s for sure.” A giggle passes between them and Cady turns around and opens their locker. As luck would have it, they find the folder sitting on the shelf and pull it out, waving it in front of Tyler.

“See? Nothing to worry about.” They close the door and slide up to him, the folder held against their chest. “Just a little wobble. But I’m fine, really.”

“Aye, aye captain,” he says.

“But I appreciate the offer,” they tell him. “Now come on, we should get back before people start thinking that we’re off making out somewhere.”

“I don’t think anyone would do that,” he says, offering his arm. They take it, chuckling, and the two set off down the hall. “They know you’re with Janis. And that I am a confirmed bachelor, single by choice.”

“Yeah, everyone else’s choice,” they tease, but it’s good natured and Tyler laughs at it, and agrees. Secretly, Cady is glad he offered his arm, not just because it lightens the mood, but because they’re not sure they could make it down to the classroom on their own.

“Hey… you know that we’re all here for you, right?” he asks. “Me, the rest of the crew. We’ve all got your back. You’re one of us, Africa.”

“I’d like to think so. Otherwise the jacket was a huge waste of a purchase,” they respond. Then they rest their cheek on Tyler’s shoulder and sniffles. Tyler, of course, he doesn’t judge. “Thank you.”

It’s dark enough when they get home, winter has dug its claws in tightly, and the rain from this morning has made a reappearance. Their mom greets them with a hug and a pat on the head and tells them dinner won’t be long. They grin and thank her but ask if they can have it in their room.

“Just got a lot of work to do,” they say. In reality, they hardly touch the plate, and sneak it down an hour later mostly full. They didn’t lie, they do have a lot of work to do, deadlines closer than they’d like, but they find themselves unable to so much as pick up a pencil, instead sitting on their bed and staring at the wall, their eyes heavy and their soul heavier. Their phone sits in their lap and they sit on edge, waiting for it to vibrate or light up and give them something, anything. It stays silent and they finally give up.

They climb into bed earlier than usual, and sleep comes almost as soon as they close their eyes.