Blind But Brilliant(Boyxboy)

Flunking

Drake POV (Pic is Sam)

 

My first few weeks becomes a routine. Come to school, get to class, class starts, Lily comes, Sam follows still looking hung over, him and the populars exchange a few insults, he sits, we exchange a few insults, he falls asleep, sometimes I fall asleep, class ends, me and Lily wait for him, he comes out, glares at me, more insults, Lily drags him to class, I go to class, sit by them at lunch, more insults, Sam doesn’t eat, insults, Sam vs Populars, and so on. But at the end of this day Mr. Wrestler, my math teacher, keeps me back at the end of the class.

 

“Drake, have you notice your grade in this class?” He asks his scruffy grey eyebrows merging.

 

“Yes, sir.” I tell him.

 

“Are you trying in this class?” He asks and I answer truthfully.

 

“Yes and no sir. I try until I get too frustrated.”

 

“It’s good to know that you try. So, I take it that you just need extra help to understand these things?” He asks me and I nod. “Good that’s what I hoped. I assigned you a tutor. You’ll have to meet at four in the library every afternoon for an hour until you are not flunking my class. Thank you for your time Drake. Now, I told your tutor you two would meet today and no ifs, ands, or, buts. Best tell your parents and get over there. “ He says and leaves me in his classroom mouth to the floor. A tutor?! At least it’s at 4 to 5. My parents will never know and will never skin me. Dad will be out like a light in the basement from the night shift and mom works two to seven. I’ll head home and get a bite first then, head there.

 

40 minutes later I get to the library and sit at a table. Twenty minutes later i’m still sitting at the table waiting for my tutor. i check the time, 4:12. Where the hell is my tutor?! I start to hear a light beeping. That sounds familiar. Suddenly an irritated voice behind.

 

“I assume you’re the idiot I have to attempt to teach?” Sam asks and I turn around in horror.

 

“You’re my tutor?” I ask disdainfully.

 

“Yes I am Twat.” He says using the name he gave me.

 

“My name is Drake not Twat.” I reply pugnaciously(hostilely).

 

“Maybe if you say it nicer I’ll use it.” He mocks and pulls out a chair sitting. I snort.

 

“Let’s just get this half hour over. “ I say pulling out my math book.

 

“Fine. What don’t you understand?” He asks. I sigh.

 

“Um, let’s see. . . All of it.” I say flipping through the pages. He sighs.

 

“Then let’s start with the basics.” He says pulling out his book. “What’s you’re favorite hobby?” He asks. I look at him confused, but he just has his fingers running along the book.

 

“What?” I ask him. Why does he need to know that?

 

“Are you deaf? What is your favorite hobby?” He asks irritated. I roll my eyes.

 

“Drawing or playing guitar I guess.” I tell him still confused. He looks through the book running he fingers a crossed the page. His finger slides down to the corner of the page. He has beautiful fingers. Shut up.

 

“Okay open your book to page 104.” He says. I open my book. “So look at number one. Pull out a paper and try to figure it out on your own.” He tells me.

 

“What? Aren’t you suppose to, I don’t know, tutor me?” I ask confused.

 

“Just do the problem.” He says. What the hell? I pull out a piece of paper and start working on the problem.  Half way through it I drop my pencil.

 

“I give up!” I say unhappily. He looks up at me.

 

“I take it you don’t know how to play that many songs on the guitar.” He tells me. “Or know how to draw more than a stick figure.” He states simply.

 

“Why do you think that?!” I ask starting to get pissed.

 

“You gave up. If you give up because it’s hard then, you must not know a lot.” He says looking at me through his shades.  

 

“Well, I don’t understand it. I understand guitar and I know how to draw, but I don’t know how to do this.” I tell him angrily.

 

“You didn’t always know how to play guitar or how to draw. You had to learn first.” He tells me.

 

“Then, teach me! Instead of just throwing a problem at me!” I holler then, get shushed.

 

“That’s what I’m trying to do. Now, explain what you did.” He tells me and I read off my work. “You would have got it wrong if you finished it.” He tells me and explains what I did wrong. While he was teaching me I realized why he wanted me to tell him my hobbies. He kept making references to playing guitar or drawing making it easier to figure it out. Before I know it our time was up. “Okay so I have some problems that I want you to have done the next time we meet. Prob-”

 

“Wait you’re giving me homework?” I ask him incredulously.

 

“Yes, problems 2, 4, and 7 on page 108. They are pretty simple review of what we did today.” He tells me packing up. I sigh. I can't believe he’s giving me homework!

 

“Fine. See you later Sam.” I say as we part ways.

 

“Bye.” He says not even looking back. Rude as always.

I kinda crash after I get home. Only waking up for dinner. I completely forget about the homework I was grumbling about.