Don't Tell Him He's In Love With A Genius

:Genius: Chapter Ten

“Some people only want power, others respect. While they each are damning, there's nothing more dangerous than the men who think both are the same.”

- Extract from The Edge Of The Circle by Ocyne Liyla

It was times like these I was glad I went to an elite school...and had a fetish for sport.

I arrived one second late to detention with Anton, meaning I had an extra ten minutes to spend with him. Thankfully, Asha, being the other Head prefect coaxed Anton into letting her use the detention time as a tutor time. The blonde, whom I've yet to care enough to ask for a name, was also joining me in detention, more to keep Anton occupied, than to bask in the pleasure of my company. Mack, who was supposed to be head of detention, was not joining us because my new 'dad' had asked him to help out with some last minute paper work of some sort.

Ten minutes into the tutoring and Jane was only partly getting it.

“Pythagoras' equation is simple!” Asha moaned, for the fourth time. “(x² + y² = z²)” she repeated. I copied it under my breath, making sure she heard. I would have acted smarter, but this seemed like one of those things most people would struggle with. So struggle I did.

“Asha!” It was Jean, walking into the classroom and ignoring me. One the first night she came to me, stood glaring and said 'as soon as I find out you're not here just to exploit us, to weasel your way in, and betray us the first time you can, I'll apologise and see if I like you enough to become a close friend. Until that day, I'm going to ignore you.'

She was true to her word.

“What's up, Jean?” She asked, glad she could get away from my confusion, which as I had learned from tutoring newbie Mcceath’s, usually made the tutor doubt her knowledge.

“We've an emergency meeting for the gifted champions.” She stated. Asha rolled her eyes.

“Will you be okay by yourself?”

“What am I?” Anton asked, “A tin of soup?” Just as I opened my mouth to retort, Asha threw me a warning look. I did have x amount of minutes with him, best not to temp the bull. Once she and the Blonde had left I sat back down in the chair and pretended to look puzzled for another couple of minutes, then I gave up and started doodling.

Many people will tell you because writing and drawing need the same imagination, and baseline, more often than not, a good writer will be a good artist.

That's a lie. I couldn't draw to save my life. I hadn't met the person that did my covers of my stories, but he was pretty good, to say the least.

I didn't realise I was 'drawing' random proof of the Pythagoras equation, until Anton snorted, knocking me out of my day dream.

“долбоеб.” [Dunce] He chuckled under his breath. I glared at him, I understood what he was saying. I had to learn German and French, growing up as a child but then Mack called me stupid playfully because 'every genius knows two well-known languages and one that isn’t well know', so I forced myself to learn Russian. It took me all spare time from my first year to third to learn, and I was barely fluent.

“Замолчи!” [Shut up!] I hissed, not realising I wasn't supposed to have heard, never mind understood. Well, I realised, but I just didn’t care. One thing I hated was the use of the words ‘stupid’, ‘idiot’ or ‘dunce’, a wise man once said ‘If you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it would spend its whole life thinking it’s stupid’. Jane wasn’t good with numbers, but she sure as hell could school him in football- soccer. Anton angered me how much he underestimated Jane.