𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐎𝐘
chapter two!
— LACEY TOWNSHIP HIGH
BRADY'S POV.
🥊 . ⚽️ . 🎸 . 🏐. ✂️
"YO BRADY, you wanna hang?" Ashton asks as the bell rings to signify the end of the school day, and I sigh.
"I'd love to, but I got tutoring, remember?" I tell him, and he deflates.
"Oh yeah. What days do you not have tutoring?" He questions, and I shrug as we walk down the hallway.
"Not sure. Pretty sure Azalea makes the schedule since the teachers don't really care, so I'll have to ask her I guess." I nutter.
"Shouldn't you be like... on your way to the library right now?" He raises an eyebrow, and my eyes widen.
"Shit! You're right, I'll see you later, Ash!" I say quickly, turning and walking quickly in the direction of the library.
When I get to the library, I'm slightly out of breath. Azalea looks up at me, and seems a little bit shocked. I sit down across from her.
She's super pretty, and I'm a little shocked we've never spoken. Sure, our crowds don't exactly overlap, but she's in two of my classes.
"Sorry I'm late, I wasn't even watching the clock." I say softly, and she shakes her head.
"Don't stress. There was a 78.32% chance you'd be late." She tells me, and my eyebrows shoot up.
"You calculated that? How?" I'm extremely confused.
She shrugs. "It's natural for me, kinda. I'm glad you apologized, though, because there was a 53.12% chance you'd wouldn't apologize for being late, and a 42.92% chance you would not show up at all."
She can just calculate statistics? Thats insanely cool. What else can she do?
"Oh, alright." I nod. "So.. what are we working on first?"
She looks through the three options we have, since I'm failing 3 classes, and she pulls out the science work.
"Can we start with chemistry? This class was always easy for me." She tells me, and I scoff.
"Well not everyone is a genius." I quip, and she sighs.
"I'm not a genius, I just... am smart." She insists, and I raise an eyebrow.
"Textbook definition of genius." I deadpan.
"Actually the textbook definition of genius is exceptional intellectual or creative power or other natural ability." She smiles, and I send her a slightly weirded out expression.
"And that's exactly why you're a genius." I tell her as I grab the paper from her, reading the questions.
"Okay, whatever." She dismisses my statement. "Do that worksheet, and I'll check your answers after."
I nod, turning my attention to the paper. Why do I need to know this anyways? Volleyball doesn't require Chem, and I know acting doesn't either.
