MY FLOWER BLOOMS WHERE YOU ARE || JIKOOK

19

Jungkook pov

My teacher slams the paper down on the wooden desk in front of me and my stomach sinks and my body cringe as my eyes latch onto the blood-red "F" circled three times and underlined twice at the top of my physics paper.

I failed.

I've actually failed a test, how the fuck is this possible?

I never fail tests, at least not this atrociously.

Don't get me wrong I never get a high grade in physics, because my brain confuses the numbers and they all look backwards and gibberish to me, but I've not received an "F" in a while.

"See me after class, Mr. Jeon," Mr. Jami says as he places Jimin's paper on the empty desk next to me upside down so I can't see the score on the front of the paper even though I could bet my life on what the grade is going to be.

"I don't think you've been using the techniques and your extra aid."

You would be right.

Park Jimin is Science nerd and he's never received lower than an A.

I huff as I cross my arms across my chest and slink back into my seat as the door to the classroom slams open and Jimin stalks in with a shit eating grin on his annoyingly handsome face.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Park" Mr. Jami says softly and with a smirk on his face.

"Mr. J, you know I had an appointment,"

he throws his favourite teacher a devilish wink as he pulls the empty chair next to me out from under the table, the legs screeching across the floor, making my whole body cringe more than the pitiful red grade staring up at me and taunting me from the failed paper in front of me.

"Good job on that test," Mr. Jami throws over his shoulder as he continues to make his way around the classroom as he hands the rest of the papers out.

Jimin rummages through his bag and pulls out his notepad and his pencil case out and sets them down on the desk in front of him.

"Let's see how I did then," he says as he cracks his knuckles, the popping causing yet another cringe to my body as he flips over the paper and to my utter and complete horror, not, a big fat fucking "A+" stares back up at him and me.

"Oh, thank fuck," Jimin says with a sigh of relief, "I thought I messed up the last few questions up."

He places the paper town and turns to face me, "How did you do?"

I groan as I nod my head to the monstrosity continuing to taunt me and he sags into his seat as he picks up the paper and starts scanning through my answers, frowning and grunting as he quite obviously and annoyingly criticises my answers.

I wish I didn't have such a problem with numbers.

It's always been the case and the bane of my life unfortunately. Dyscalculia is the answer to all my problems.

The problems I can't seem to fucking rationale because of my stupid special educational need.

The educational psychologist that I meet has provided me with many different techniques to try and help with my numbers problem.

But lately nothing seems to work and when there's a lot on my mind, everything goes to put.

Jimin frowns as he turns to face me, "Have you been using the methods your Ed psych said to use?" I shake my head and he frowns even deeper.

"If only you let me help you." He says on a sigh.

I huff, "I don't need your help," I bite out, "Besides, you won't be able to help me and dumb down this shit."