Hetalia One-Shots - REQUESTS CLOSED!

America - hidden side

'To solve a multi-step equation, you may have to simplify the equation first by combining like terms or by using the distributive property. If an equation contains fractions, it may help to multiply both sides...'

Alfred hunkered over this math textbook, hoping that no one would notice him.

'...may have to simplify the equation first... equation contains fractions... it may help...'

He was so focused that he forgot he was reading the same line over and over again.

'simplify... like terms... contains fractions...'

But that was okay, because he wasn't really absorbing the words anyway.

'an equation... both sides...'

God, he hoped no one saw him. Alfred F. Jones, in the library? It was unheard of. He wouldn't even be here if he hadn't forgotten to study for his math test yesterday. Why hadn't he just pulled an all-nighter, like usual?

'you... equation...'

Math just hated him. Well, guess what? The feeling was mutual.

'multip-'

Then Alfred heard something slam on the other side of the wall he was leaning against. He jumped up immediately, jerked out of his thoughts. What on earth was that?

He pressed an ear to the wall, math book lying forgotten on the floor.

"Leave me alone." a small voice carried through the thin paneling of the plaster wall.

"Why should I?" another person sneered. Alfred's eyes widened. It was John, a cornerback on the football team.

"I don't have anything you want." the other person persisted weakly. Alfred recognized the voice, but barely. He racked his mind, trying to think of who it could be.

Loud laughter echoed from the other side. "Exactly! You're just a little weakling. This school ain't for worthless pieces 'o crap like you! And what better way to toughen up a weakling than to do it ourselves?"

More laughter. Alfred pulled away from the wall. He knew what was coming next. Immediately, he shoved his books in his bag and ran out of the library.

"Running, Alfred! That's the fifth time this week!" The librarian called after him, but Alfred didn't stop until he reached the other end of the hallway, where John had probably already beat whoever the poor kid was into a pulp. Alfred skidded to a stop, a little out of breath, just in time to see a figure pressed against the wall, terrified.

Alfred recognized the guy - Matt, a quiet kid in his class who never said anything bad about anyone and always got good grades. He felt a stab of anger. What was John doing, picking on this kid who'd obviously done nothing to him? Of course, he couldn't act on it, so he pushed it down. No use taking up any more space in Alfred's already-full mind.

One of the other people in John's group - Liam, an outside linebacker - pointed to Alfred. "Hey, look, it's Alfred!"

John turned around before he could hit Matt again. Alfred, against his will, found himself relieved.

"Eyy, Alfred! My man! Come on over here, don't be shy! This kid ain't going anywhere, right? Wait, where -?"

John turned back, surprised, just in time to see a blue streak run out from the corner of the wall, zooming past the whole group. It was Matt.

"Wait a second, here -" John called, but Matt was already too far away for him to grab.

Just before Matt ran out of sight, though, he caught Alfred's eyes. He had a haunted expression, with dark circles under his lavender-colored eyes, as he pressed his books to his chest. Alfred felt a brush of sympathy, but it was gone as soon as John spoke.