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Chapter 20

this book is officially longer than any other story that i've written and i'm proud of myself

also, if you want to join the angry mob follow @5MOBLittleMob thank youuu

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"Lucas," Mrs. Armstrong called, "may I talk to you?"

I gulped, but I gave her a small nod. She opened the door to her classroom and went to her desk. Mrs. Armstrong didn't sit down in her chair. Her weight was shifted to her right hip and she rested her right hand on the desk. I simply stood awkwardly in front of her and played with my fingers.

"What is it?" I asked her. My voice was soft so I didn't sound so demanding. I needed to go to homeroom so I wouldn't be late.

Mrs. Armstrong let out a sigh, and she ran a hand through her short ginger hair. She had me worried. Mrs. Armstrong didn't speak for a few moments, and I stood there not-so-patiently waiting.

"You're failing math again, Lucas," Mrs. Armstrong said sadly. "You managed to go through the first semester with a D, and I'm proud of you for that. You turn in all your homework and manage to complete assignments, and that's good. The thing is, Luke, your test scores are too low."

I nodded, and I felt the lump in my throat starting to grow. "I'm going to a tutor, Mrs. Armstrong. I'm working it out. I'll be okay."

Mrs. Armstrong nodded, though she didn't look convinced. I took this as a sign of goodbye, and I hurriedly walked out of the classroom. I walked to Mrs. Smith's room and sat down in my chair quickly, earning me weird looks from Ashton and Michael.

"Is everything okay, Luke?" Ashton asked me.

Well, let's look at everything, shall we? I'm failing math again, my parents hate me, I can't trust my brothers, and I'm having nightmares of my best friend.

"Everything is just grand," I lied with a smile.

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"Okay, calculus," I said to the book in front of me. "Let's do this together so I don't fail this class any longer."

I didn't expect a textbook to respond, but I felt as if it was showing me that we were on the same page.

I make myself laugh.

It was a Friday night. Usually, on these days, I would be sprawled on the couch and watching whatever TV or movie I felt like watching. I suppose Liz would be glad that I was spending my night studying—not that I cared for her happiness. Andrew doesn't give a shit about me or what I do, which I suppose was okay with me. The only problem I have is that Andrew is a bit hypocritical. He doesn't care about what I do, but he complains about it all the time. I didn't really care about Andrew's opinions either, but I have a beef with hypocrites.

I looked down at the textbook and I let out a sigh. I was really trying to grasp at the information, but the more I looked at it, the more the words seemed to be unable to read. Each second I spent looking at the pages, the letters seemed to move across the page and jumble together. It was at this moment when I suddenly yearned to watch Once Upon a Time, and it only made it much harder to concentrate.

I groaned slightly. Out of frustration, I slammed the book shut. I lied down on the sofa, and I turned my head so I was looking at the TV.

"I'd studied enough for tonight," I mumbled to myself.

I grabbed the PlayStation controller and turned on the console. I went on Netflix and I started to watch Once Upon a Time.

"Ooh, what are you watching?" Liz asked. She sat down on the couch next to me and held me. I was extremely uncomfortable, but I didn't react.