A Little More Than Xs And Os

A little bit of a run-in...

"Report cards go out today!" Mr. Calaway announced to his less-than-smarter-class. P.S- I'm in that class.

Mentally, I was praying that I would have at least one C on this next report card. But I knew as soon as the packet was handed to me (or in my mother's hands, then disposed of in the trash) I would be disappointed.

The bell rang and, like always, I was the first to reach the door. Have to get to those other classes, right? Wrong. To be honest, I don't even know if I have an actual schedule of what I do when I'm not in class.

Then I'm stopped when I run into a girl. At least, I think it was a girl. I couldn't see anything after our heads bumped together. Quite painful. I think I'm seeing stars. Which is odd because it's daylight outside.

"Hello?" She snapped her fingers at me and that's when my sight cleared up. I wish it didn't. The girl was amazingly stunning. Then I recognized her- Peyton.

"Hey. I'm sorry. Are you okay?!" I reached down for her books and papers that were scattered all over the floor. People were courteous enough to step on only a few.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and snatched the books and such from my grasp. "Yeah, just fine." I'm a little confused. Why would she be curt with me if I just picked up her books for her?

"I'm sorry. Other than running into you, did I do something wrong?" She gives me a glance with just one eye, and slowly walks away from me. Naturally, I follow. How else am I supposed to get an answer?

"Look, I'm not exactly thrilled about the thought of being late for my class because of Adam Levine."

"I- I'm not Adam Levine. Sadly." I look at her curiously, but she seems to know she messed up, as a smirk spreads across her face. "Oh, that's right, he's someone who's actually popular and talented."

I hear a door slam close by and it echoes. I clutch my chest, and fall to the floor, pretending to just have been shot. She lowers down to the floor next to me. "That insult," She leans back from me. "Girl, that hurt. Shoot me next time." She laughs, oh gosh, her smile. Beautiful.

I jump to my feet in a instant and walk her to her class. Like yesterday, her heels click against the foor as we walk. She wears red heels and black skinny jeans and a sparkling red top that comes down to her knees. I don't think she has any limits to what she wears. "Don't you have other classes to go to?" she asks, I grin. "That's why I need a tutor." She rolls her eyes. "What you need is to get to class." My turn to roll my eyes. "I'll take advice from you when you become my tutor." She glances at me, "Have fun skipping class." She walks through the door just as the late bell rings. She gets a scolding from Mrs. Simmons, an old lady who still teaches for some reason. I guess it's because she always gets the smart kids. Always. I don't think she has a dumb class. I don't have her, at least. She makes me have pity on teachers like Mr. Calaway.

I turn to run into the principal, Mrs. York. She crosses her arms and her long hair slaps me in the face when she turns, obviously wanting me to follow her back to her office.

When we reach her office, I assume I'm in trouble for skipping class. She makes me take a seat across from her chair at her desk. She pulls out a paper. "Glad I found you, Adam. Now I can tell you face-to-face who your tutor will be." I'm a little confused. Is she being sarcastic? Why isn't she busting me for skipping and giving me after-school detention? Oh yeah, cause we don't do that anymore. A lot of the teachers didn't like staying after with me everyday and not learning my lesson anyways.

"You will find the contact information, what days are the best for your tutor, and -"

"Whoa. This sounds like serious business. I just want to know who my tutor is." I say.

"Then open up the folder, genius." Five- time winner Principal of the Year. All of her grace disappears in her tone when she says 'genius'.

I open it up, a little spectacle. "Peyton Releigh refused to be your tutor," she says, but I still read Peyton's name in fine print under Name of tutor. "But she needed one last credit of volunteer work, so she chose to be a tutor. It has to be a failing student. So here you are, and you start Monday."

"But it's already Friday." I whine. She closes her eyes. "Then I guess you have the rest of the weekend to goof off, because, come Monday, Peyton and I both expect to see improvement."

"Mrs. York, with all respect, I doubt automatic improvement will be seen." I say, with my head buried in the folder, scanning all information. "Adam, what else do you have to focus on?" If that doesn't get me to shut-up I don't know what will. It's so true. I mean, I never asked to be dumb, it just seems easier. I'm sure I can be smart now that I have nothing else to do.

"Okay," I sigh. "But why does she have to tutor a failing student?" Mrs. York clears her throat. "Not that it's any of your business, but to get where she's going, she's going to have a lot of competition, and needs to prove that she's not only capable of doing her own work but helping other students with their work." I nod, half-way understanding.

"So, basically, I'm determining if she gets into a good college or not?" I scoff and Mrs. York looks worried, "Yes, basically. Can you do that?" I roll my eyes. "Sure.

"Is she in my grade?" I ask, finally closing up the folder. Mrs. York nods. "If she's a Junior, then how is she already getting her last credit?" Mrs. York huffs. "Because Peyton Releigh is brilliantly smart, and she has the opportunity to go to college, early admission. She's only lacking one credit to do so and if you hold her back-"

"I won't. Don't worry." I assure her. I'm almost positive I can help. But a small percent of my brain that actually works says that I'm too stupid.

Let's hope that Peyton Releigh can be the judge of that.

***

"What do you know about Peyton Releigh?" I ask Trevor, the only friend I have left because he wasn't on the football team. He didn't vote me out. He shrugs, "Top-of-the-class student, plays soccer, I don't know much more than that. Why do you want to know about her?"

"That's all you know? She's going to be my tutor and I know nothing about her. Except she likes to insult me."

"Like, flirting insulting, or just plain rude?" I shrug, "I can't tell. She's too smart about the way she says it. Does that make sense?" He shakes his head, "No, I don't really know what you mean. But if she's flirting with you...actually, I don't know what girl would,"

"Hey," I warn and he laughs. He grabs a book from the shelf behind us and walks up to the librarian to check it out. When he comes back, he continues. "If she was flirting with you, you're lucky. There's so many guys at this school that think she's amazing; brains and beauty. If she's going to be your tutor...that's just plain crazy."

Brains and beauty. Sure, she's smart and she's pretty cute but I really don't see why a lot of guys at our school would like her. Especially if she's planning to go to college early. You shouldn't get attached to someone who's going to leave in a month. Though, maybe Trevor's right. Maybe if I get to know her better, I'll see that I am lucky.

Right now, I'm just thinking that she's a stuck-up snob and only cares about her own grades. If I find this to be true, I'm going to make sure I let her know that she can't get into a good college without a failing student.

Without me.