The Philosophers' Game

Chapter 9: The It Factor/The Ledger

Chater 9: The It Factor/The Ledger

It was 4 o'clock Friday afternoon, and would you believe it, I was still at school. Two months earlier I wouldn't have dreamed of staying this late unless I had cheer practice or a game to attend, but our school's football team was now out of the playoffs, and there I was leaving the Mathletes meeting.

I was the first to scurry out of the room, and not a soul was left wandering about the hallway. The only sign I had company came when the door to my Calculus teacher's classroom opened and I could hear the boys talking behind me. Nevertheless, I did not stop to wait for them; instead, I only walked faster, making a beeline straight for the car.

"HEY!"

"SHIT!" I yelled, right as Diogenes jumped out from behind a bush and landed on the steps in front of me.

He did nothing but laugh so hard he could barely breathe, his eyes closed and his breaths short and uneven. I, however, was not in the least bit amused.

"Were you waiting for me back there?" I asked, frowning at him in disgust. "That's just creepy, Diogenes. Stop laughing."

When he somehow managed to regain the ability to speak, he said, "Lighten up, would you? I'm here to offer my help."

I rolled my eyes. "No, I bet you're here to offer your services, which you and I both know is very different from offering your help."

"Okay, you caught me," he admitted with a sigh. "But either way, you'll benefit. So just hear me out: you still have available all 3 passes for cheat sheets this semester, and exams are coming up in a month."

"I'm well aware."

"Good. So do you know which tests you want? The ends of semesters are the busiest times of year for me, so I need to know in advance. I'm assuming you'll want Calculus, because everyone knows that's the hardest one there is-"

"Excuse me? Calculus is by far my best subject. I don't need your cheat sheets, and I don't want them, either," I interrupted again, crossing my arms. Before Diogenes could add anything more, I started walking away. The impatient expression on his face told me he wanted to follow, but he thought better of it when Anna suddenly walked around the corner of the office building, heading for me.

"How many times can I get ambushed in one day?" I muttered to myself, praying the answer would stay at two.

Apparently feeling self-conscious and perhaps even secretive, Anna glanced behind me at Diogenes, who just stuffed his hands in his pockets and watched our encounter with great interest. I wished he would've been less obvious about eavesdropping; I didn't want Anna to think I was consorting with him.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asked innocently.

I shook my head. "Nope." Then, to show her she had my full confidence and attention, I turned around and motioned vigorously for Diogenes to go away. "Bye! In case you hadn't noticed, this is a private conversation!"

"Yeah, yeah." He grumbled irritably to himself as he strode out of the parking lot, and Anna bit her lip to keep from smirking.

"So," I began as I led her toward my Mercedes, "what is it that you wanted to talk about?" Fairly certain I already knew the answer, I avoided eye contact and simply looked at the pavement under my Converse high tops.

"Drew Dunfield," she replied immediately.

This time I didn't even try to hide my apathy toward the topic of their former relationship. "Are you really still going on about him? It's been weeks."