The Catcher's Dreams (FEATURED)

CHAPTER THIRTY - probably not null

Math class was nice now because there were certain people who weren't good at math, and that was nice because Tommy had been, according to rumor, moved to the mathematically challenged.

But as different types of triangles were explained and papers were handed back dripping with red, there was an emptiness.

Drake looked around, as if you could look for emptiness. And as a matter of fact, here he could. The emptiness was positioned to his right, sitting erect with utmost attention, tree sap unblinking as ever.

Drake looked away.

His math teacher happened to have incredibly bad timing. A worksheet was slipped under his finger. "Geometry problems," she explained, pulling at her spaghetti strap. "Get in pairs with the person next to you."

Drake turned his head. Cody was sitting there. They met eyes, full and empty.

"Okay," Drake said. "Math. Let's not make this too hard. Okay?"

Cody looked at him blankly. "Math."

"Yes, Cody," Drake said. "You remember how to do math, right?"

Cody blinked twice, looking down at the paper. He pointed at the first question. "Isosceles," he said.

"Yeah," Drake said. "Good job." He smiled. Cody didn't smile back. He blinked twice. "Where is Tommy?" he asked.

"Tommy?" Drake repeated. "He's not in this class. And frankly, you shouldn't listen to him. He's a jerk."

Cody blinked metronome-twice again. "I do not understand."

"Don't you hate him giving you commands?" Drake wrote down isosceles.

"Scalene," Cody said. He etched in the letters sitting crisply in their chairs. "Scalene. Isosceles. Seven. Equilateral. Fifty-five. Isosceles, six."

"We actually have to do the work, Cody," Drake said. "I mean, you might be doing the work but I'm not that fast."

Cody paused, frowning slightly. "What is the point?" Cody pushed himself away from the desk, standing up. "If there is no point, I am done now."

"Cody!" Drake said. "We have to finish it! Please. Come on." He reached up to grab his shoulders and usher him back into his seat. "Please."

"Please?" Cody asked. "That is a choice. I choose not to do it."

"Don't make me do it," Drake said.

Footsteps echoed among lingering voices.

"No, Cody," Drake said.

Cody stopped.

"D...do it," Drake whispered.

Cody turned around, dragged by an invisible leash. Drake hated it. He felt like Tommy. The leash fell in his hand, and then he clutched it. And whipped it.

"Do the math with me!" he said. Cody's head was jerked by the leash, and he obediently came back.

"Sixty-one," he muttered, settling back into his seat. "Isosceles. Scalene, neither, four. Equilateral. Twenty-five." The skin of his hands shone, swathed with escaping ripples of heat. His hands looked cold. Were they cold? Drake's hands edged nearer, before stopping. Probably not. He tucked them in, closer to his paper. Probably not. Probably not.