AN: Sequel! Hoorays! It'll probably be a bit slow to start, since I know where I want this to go, the problem is how to get there. And to explain: I don't know all that much about the British school system. From what I understand, there's an optional year or two of school dedicated to studying three chosen subjects to take A-level exams on, which are sort of like SATs (used when applying to colleges and stuff like that). If anyone knows more about it and could help me out if this is completely wrong, please message me and let me know and I'll try to fix this chapter accordingly. Anyway, I'd appreciate sweet, delicious review candy as an Easter gift :)

I stare at the paper in front of me, brow furrowed in concentration as I tap my pencil in a slow rhythm. English and Art I can understand, but I'm wondering if I was anywhere near my right mind when I chose Algebra as my third subject.

Let's see...factor the problem x squared plus 10x plus 25...

Tap, tap, tap. I set down the pencil and start to massage my temples. I'm convinced that A-Level exams were invented as a form of torture by which to weed out the weak-willed and wonder if it's actually worth the weeks of studying if I'm just going to crack under the pressure anyway.

I feel a chin rest lazily on my shoulder and a whisper of that Irish lilt floats to my ear. "This...is...boring."

"Too bad. This is important," I explain, not quite believing it myself.

"Why do you want to go to college anyway?" Valentine stands and rests his chin on my head while wrapping his arms around my shoulders.

I think I've had this discussion with him a thousand times already. It never goes anywhere. "To study art, silly."

"But you're already an artist. Why do you have to study to try and be something that you already are?"

I smile sarcastically. "Well, apparently the more time you spend being told how to do something, the more people will respect you for doing it." Then I give a slight shrug and try to look on the positive side. "Besides, it's always nice to get better at something you like doing, right?"

"Well, unless any of them have drawn anything that ended up having sentience, I'd say you already have one up on all of them." He kisses my hair while rubbing circles on my arms and leans over to get a better look at the current object of my frustration. "Why do you have to study maths to be an artist?"

I sigh and drum my fingers on the desk. "I don't know. Seemed like a good idea at the time."

Before I can stop him, he snatches up the paper and paces around the room, staring at it intently. "Why are there so many x's? That's just confusing. Adding insult to injury, that's what that is."

"Hey!" I stand and try to grab the worksheet back from him, but he holds it just out of my reach. "Give it back!"

He finally breaks his gaze from the factoring problems and tosses them nonchalantly to the ground. I watch them float down slowly before his voice brings my gaze back to his face. "Let's go do something!"

I shake my head at him and lean down to pick up the worksheet. "I can't."

"Yes, you can. You just won't."

"Exactly." I sit back down and try to regain my concentration. After a few moments I hear him beat-boxing Rock Your Body (he found it on a mix CD I made years ago. I was going through a short-lived crush on Justin Timberlake at the time. Shut up. You can't tell me you didn't). I look in his direction to see him doing the moonwalk all over the room. He does this any time I'm not paying attention to him when he feels I should be.

He stops mid-step and looks over at me, flashing a wide grin. When I glare in response he pouts, folds his arms, and says "You know, you were a lot more fun when you weren't trying to be so smart."

"Ugh," I roll my eyes and turn back to my work "Just...be patient for a while and I'll try to get this-"

"X plus five squared." He interrupts and I stop my pencil mid-tap.

I slowly shift my gaze and stare at him in disbelief. "What?"

"X plus five," he makes little air parenthesis with his hands "squared."

I quickly write down the answer and double check it. "...That's right. How did you-"

He lets his arms drop to his sides and cuts me off again. "Can we go now?"

I smile and let out a defeated yet satisfied sigh. "Yes, we can. Just as soon as you show me how the hell you did that."