2: Classes

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"Take a seat, take a seat!"

Chairs scraped as people rushed to sit next to their friends, trying to agree on the best place in the room. Others were piling their bags in a corner and trying to find out what we were doing. I didn't know anyone yet, so I sat at the back away from them. Excited chatter was all that could be heard, drowning out the man trying to regain silence.

Almost immediately, Sherlock came to sit next to me, draping his long coat over the chair and removing his scarf. He sat in just a blue, formal shirt and matching blue jeans, some curls falling over his eyes. I guess he knew nobody either...

"Hi, Sherlock." I mumbled, showing a small smile.

"You don't mind me sitting here, do you?"

"No, no, it's... fine."

"Okay!" The teacher began, writing the date on the board. "I am Mr Cooper and I'll be your maths teacher this year. I'm sure you'll all get used to one another soon enough, so let's get straight to work. Write the title, which is 'calculus', and answer the questions on the board."

Ten minutes had gone by and I was so confused. Nothing was making sense anymore but I was too nervous to ask for help. Discreetly, I shifted my eyes to Sherlock's page, watching what he was scribbling down. It all seemed to be so easy for him, answering them quickly with no apparent issues. Soon enough, he had finished and lifted his head, only to be met with mine, cocked and reading everything he had written with eyebrows furrowed.

"What's wrong?" He whispered, looking over to what I had done, or hadn't, for that matter.

"I'm a bit confused." I admitted.


He took my book, sliding his over to me so as not to make it obvious that we were cheating. He then took my biro, as he used a fountain pen, and began to write various sentences under my doodles. I later discovered that he was writing a step-by-step guide on how to figure the answers out, drawing arrows to tips and helpful hints. He then added examples, guiding me through it all. Once satisfied, he handed it back and took his own, leaving me astonished.

"Thank you."

"No problem. Tell me if you're still confused."


Lunch had finally rolled around and I left the room to get a sandwich from the canteen. I heard a faint voice behind me, causing me to turn around and see my roommate pushing past people to get to me. Ignoring the mutters of annoyance, he panted and tapped my shoulder to collect his thoughts.

"I've had an idea."


"Do you normally struggle with maths?"

"No, it's just calculus that isn't always my strong suit. We didn't do it in high school."

"In that case, I'd... I'd be open to being your tutor. Since we live together, it would be convenient and beneficial for you. You'd learn in no time, and better than with a teacher. They're all boring and dull."

"Oh... um..."

Oh, God. It was bad enough that he knew I struggled, but now he thought I needed extra help? I didn't want him thinking I was dumb, because I certainly was not. On the other hand, some extra tuition would come in very handy...

"Only if that's what you want, of course."

"Okay. Thank you."

"That's sorted, then. Be ready to learn tonight, eight o'clock."

With that, he stepped out of the line and left me by myself. But not before giving me a little wink and turning his coat collar up. What was that for? And why does my stomach feel tense?

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