Do You Realize? |l.s.|

XVIII

Sitting at the kitchen counter and being stuck on a stupid math problem that I don't know how to do because I had to fucking pee is one of the worst feelings I've ever experienced. Something about it has me taking several decompression breaths, yelling into my hands, and throwing my pencil at the packet because it is so infuriating.

I've been stuck on this problem since 5:18, and it is now 5:54. I'm wasting my teenage years sitting on my ass and staring at a paper full of numbers I can't read. Fuck school, I can't do this shit anymore. Although, mum recently called me telling me to get my grades back up before I dig myself any deeper, otherwise she'd take my phone when she gets home, so I don't really have the option of letting myself fall deeper into a failing overall grade. I also want to get out of school as soon as I can, which won't be easy if I have to stay back a year.

Another twenty mintues go by, and I've moved onto problem after problem, promising myself to come back to the ones I don't know. Problem is, I haven't solved a single one yet, so I'm back to the start, only it is now 6:19. I throw my pencil onto the table, screaming profanities into my hands as I bury my face in them.

"Hey," Harry startles me with a gently voice, hurrying over and taking the stool next to me out, before taking a seat and looking at me. "What's got you so upset, munchkin?"

"I fucking give up. I can't do this shit, fucking goddamn math. What the hell am I gonna use slope-intercept form for in real life? Fucking stupid, can't even solve a math problem, fuck!" I yell into my hands, ranting to him shamelessly.

"Lou, take a deep breath," he chuckles, taking my head from my hands. I'm sure my face is red with anger, but I just look into his eyes, them somehow already calming me. "You're not dumb, love. You just need a little help, is all."

"I'm about to fucking fail, Harry! Everything about this is pointing to me and screaming that I'm a moron. I can't do shit, I might as well go stay at a homeless shelter because there's no way I'm getting into college. I won't even fucking graduate high school. Fuck this!"

"Calm down, you drama queen," he grins, rolling his eyes playfully. "Just let me explain it to you."

"Take it away, Mr.Styles," I say, crossing my arms in defeat.

"Right," he clears his throat, seeming a bit flustered suddenly for some reason, but recovering before I can ask. "The coordinates of the point are (x,y) so you just need to plug it in. You know how to find the slope?"

"The what?" I ask.

"M," he clarifies. "Y2-Y1 over X2-X1." He goes onto explain it and then we find 'm' before we 'plug it in.' "So now you choose a point and plug those into the x and the y, and we already know what m is, so we just need to find b."

"Whatever you say," I roll my eyes as he writes it down.

"Now solve it like a normal problem, and you'll get b=5, so you plug that in without the y and the x filled in, so y=13x+5. Got it?" he asks. I bite my lip hard as I stare down at the paper. He chuckles again, before handing me the pencil. "You do the next one, ask questions when you need. I'm here to help."

"No you're not, you're here to hang out with your friends, not tutor me," I sigh.

"That's not true, Lou. You're my friend, too," he smiles, nudging me and causing an unmaskable smile to make it's way onto my face.

"Let's get this over with," I change the subject, looking at the table to hide the blush from my face. He's just saying that to be nice, after all.

"Good job, Lou, that's it," he says as I begin solving the problem hesitantly and unsure.

"What the fuck do I do now?" I ask.

"You're allowed to use a calculator in this unit, you know?" he asks.

"Fuck, really? Thank fuck, that's a life saver," I sigh in relief, pulling it out from my bag.

"Did you even pay attention in class?" he asks, laughing.

"I can't help it if I zone out. I don't do it on purpose, but my teacher drags on and on in her slow voice, it puts me to sleep."

"Just get on with your math homework," he rolls his eyes. I manage to finish my homework by the time it is 6:48, and I lay my head onto the table, groaning in exhaustion.

"You're an angel, Harry. I don't think you understand, I owe you big time," I say dramatically, but it only seems appropriate after he saved me from staying up until my alarm goes off for school finishing this up.

"Anytime, Lou. Just ask for help next time, before you take someone out with that pencil," he jokes.