Your face scrunched up as you read out the impossible equation set out in front of you, maths was never your strong point, but you were usually decent enough to get a pass at least. But seeing your peers effortlessly gliding through the maze of terrifying questions and statements in the dusty, old textbooks made you slightly conscious. Does this make me dumb? You think to yourself, probably not, but it doesn't make you smart either does it? The serious - but slightly sarcastic - side of you slips in, making you question yourself once more.
Deciding maths was definitely not for you, and having been sat right at the back, meant that you would be able to slack off all lesson without the scowling professor shouting once again. Without thought, you swing your textbook shut causing a loud thud, making a few of your classmates turn, only to then quickly return to their task. Kicking your feet up onto the chair in front of you, and letting your head sink back.
"Hey-" you whisper sharply as your feet are let slide to the floor by the now removed chair, the guy in front of you had obviously not cared for your foot digging into his back through the little gap at the back of his chair, as he rolled his eyes. Prick. He soon swung himself back around to express his annoyance, "you do know that you're meant to be working, right?" He said mockingly, "of course, but does it look like I feel like it?" You huff, truthfully not giving a damn if you offended him. You didn't even bother to look up from your table, until you were forced to by a soft grip under your chin from no other than him. "What do you think you're doing?" You asked as you move back in your chair, tilting your head in confusion. "Just wanted to see your face" he quietly said, parts of his face hidden behind his brown, wavy hair.
---
The lessons went on, you accomplished no work whatsoever, as per usual, but neither did he.
Finally the bell rang, you quickly gathered your things and swung your bag over your shoulder. As you were about to leave your desk and head to the door, you felt a slip of paper being placed in your hand. Not even questioning it you scrunched it into your back pocket and left the classroom to meet your friends.
---
Checking the time that read 7:50 you decided to change out of your drab clothing and into your fluffy pyjamas. As you slid off your jeans, the slip of paper dropped to the floor, escaping your back pocket. Slowly, you picked it up, smoothing it out on your leg. It had a few numbers on it. What? "Is that his number?" You asked yourself out loud, "seems like it" your obnoxious little sister piped in as she snatched it from your hands. She always snuck into your room to borrow your hairdryer at this time, ironically you had forgotten about it today. Grabbing it back out of her hands, glancing sternly at her you pondered over it for half a second until you were snapped back by the clapping of her hands. "What rose?" You dryly asked, rolling your eyes, "who's number is that?" She asked, crossing her arms and looking up at you. She's so annoying. "No one's, now get out-" pushing her out your door, hairdryer in hand. The quiet sound of her walking into her room was audible until her door crashed shut, leaving you in peace. Sitting calmly back onto your bed, you typed the number into your phone and it began to ring, "hello?" A confused, quiet voice played through the other line, "hey I have your number, but I don't know who you are" you state calmly. Seconds of silence pass until you have an answer, "right ok, you're the maths girl, yes?" This time, you take your time to reply, "that'll be me I guess." "Right, right, well I'm Orlando, and I'm busy, so I'll save your number and I'll see you in maths?" He says, sounding more like a question than a statement. "Yeah ok, whatever Orlando" you say - sounding softer than you intended to -, hanging up the phone.
flOp
- cappspacecoat
