A/N: Thanks for reading!

Chapter Thirty-five: Misunderstood

"…so, if Train A, moving at a constant speed of 60 miles per hour, leaves the station at 5:00 P.M. and Train B, moving at a constant speed of 70 miles per hour, leaves the station at 7:00 P.M., who will arrive their destination, a station located five hundred miles away, first? And, at what time will that train arrive?"

Allison yawned and went back to her drawing, which was shaping up quite nicely. The whole 'not drawing' thing hadn't turned out too well for her and she'd given into temptation Sunday evening when her fingers were practically vibrating for lack of something solid to hold onto.

"… move onto question number five. Building A, which is 390 feet tall, was erected at a rate of 12 feet per day. Building B, which is 450 feet tall, was erected at a rate of 15 feet per day. Which building was erected first?" There was a pause, then: "Mr. Bender?"

Allison glanced over at Bender, who was sitting on the back row a few seats down from her. He had his feet propped up on his desk and was fiddling with a lighter in the hand dangling next to the floor. She hadn't seen him at all last week, except for that first Monday when he'd nodded at her from across the room. She watched him curiously as he looked at Mr. Waverly solemnly. "Yes, sir, could you please repeat the question?"

Mr. Waverly paused, baffled that Bender cared enough to listen once, much less twice. Finally he nodded hesitantly and repeated the question. When he finished, he glanced back at Bender expectantly. "So?"

"So, what?"

The physics teacher paused confusedly. "So, did you want to answer the question?"

Bender let out a small chuckle. "No."

"Then why did you ask me to repeat it?"

"I just think it's funny to hear you say the word 'erected'."

The class tittered, but Mr. Waverly just sighed and flipped to the next page. "Question six…"

"Man, that guy is such an asshole."

Allison peeled her eyes away from Bender and glanced over at the two boys sitting next to her. They were both wearing letter jackets, but she couldn't see the names on the back.

"Yeah, but he learned his lesson."

Allison's heart started beating faster when she realized that they were talking about Bender. She leaned back a few inches in her chair to get a better look at the back of the redheaded guy's letter jacket. Caleb Greene.

The blonde guy nodded. "Yeah, I know. He, like, totally attacked me in detention on Saturday."

"Really?" The redhead gaped at him. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, but I took care of him." The blonde guy grinned cockily.

Caleb shook his head. "Jordan, man, you didn't say nothin', did you? 'Cause John said we couldn't say a word. I wasn't supposed to tell anyone, even you."

Jordan shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Uh, no… I didn't say anything."

Caleb let out a deep breath. "Good. Just keep your mouth shut, alright?"

Jordan nodded quickly and Caleb turned back around in his seat. He sighed, then nestled into his chair and buried his head into the crook of his elbow. Within minutes, he was sound asleep. Allison looked down at the floor, where the jock's sports bag was resting wide open. She glanced over at the blonde boy, but he was too busy playing a game of thumb war with himself to notice her. Before she could stop herself, she reached down into the bright blue sports bag and pulled out the first thing she touched: a pair of tighty-whities.

Horrified, Allison tightened her grip on the underwear and stuck her hand under the desk before anyone would notice what she had done. She cringed at the thought of where the underwear had been, but managed not to throw up. After looking around to make sure no one had seen her, Allison stuffed the briefs into her messenger bag and slumped back into her seat, exhilarated and exhausted all at the same time.

After a few seconds, she glanced over in Bender's direction. He was watching her curiously and she wondered if he'd seen her take the jock's underwear. He lifted his eyebrows at her, but didn't offer any other form of greeting. She smiled nervously and turned back to the front of the room, where Waverly was talking about acceleration or something equally as boring. She didn't really care about physics. All she cared about was forgetting Andy Clark and teaching a lesson to those bastards he called friends.

Bender managed to stay awake during physics, though it had less to do with his incredible thirst for knowledge and more to do with the sheer amount of pleasure he received from torturing that poor, gullible man with the wire-rimmed glasses and a comb-over. He'd looked over at Allison a couple of times, but she was acting really fidgety and he couldn't decide if that was unusual for her or not.

When the bell rang, Bender took his time getting to his feet. The redheaded jock he'd befriended under the bleachers on Thursday knocked into him roughly on the way out the door. He gave Bender a fake smile when he got out into the hallway. "Sorry."

Bender shot him an even faker smile. "No problem, Red."

The boy narrowed his eyes menacingly. "You lookin' for another fight, asshole?"

Bender held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, don't get your panties all in a wad. I meant no disrespect at all. In fact, I love redheads."

The boy rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath before continuing down the hall. Bender flicked him off and started walking towards his English class. He didn't usually go to so many classes all at once, but decided not to waste his good mood by sitting all alone under the bleachers.

Mrs. Cardarelli was one of the hottest teachers in school, or at least she could be if she didn't dress like a librarian. On Monday, she was wearing a red cardigan and a simple black skirt that went past her knees. This was unfortunate because Bender had caught glimpses of her legs before and felt that she could keep her male students a little more alert during class if she flashed them some skin.

Once class started, Bender tuned out Mrs. Cardarelli's lecture over the Beat poets and caught a little nap at his desk. He finally woke when the bell rang, signaling the end of class. He was trying to decide if he was up for one more period when Mrs. Cardarelli called out to him. "John? Can you come over here for a minute?"

Bender walked slowly over to her desk, where she was organizing some papers. He didn't say anything, just waited for her to talk.

Mrs. Cardarelli set the papers on the desk and adjusted her glasses. "I'm glad you showed up today. I was starting to forget what you looked like."

"Yeah, well, I've been having trouble sleeping lately. I figured this might give me the push I needed."

Mrs. Cardarelli smiled. "Is that so?"

"Insomnia…it's a terrible thing."

She nodded sympathetically. "Well, I'm sorry to hear that. I was hoping you came because you actually cared about your grade."

Bender clucked his tongue. "Terry, Terry. Don't you know me at all?"

"Don't call me Terry."

"Why not?"

"Because my name is Tess. Do you realize, John, that you're failing my class?"

"Tess? I could have sworn it was Terry…"

"For this grading period, you have turned in only one of eight homework assignments."

Bender tried to look surprised. "I turned in homework?"

"If you plan on graduating, you'll need to pass this class. I don't mind helping you. That's what I'm here for."

Bender pretended to give this some thoughtful consideration, then looked up and smirked at her. "You know what I think this is about?"

Mrs. Cardarelli crossed her arms over her chest and gave him her best 'go ahead, impress me' look. "What?"

"I think you have a little crush on me." She glared at him, but he kept smiling. "You've got a little crush on me and you don't know how to tell me, so you're going to 'tutor' me, is that it?"

Mrs. Cardarelli walked around to the other side of the desk, putting space between her and Bender. "Don't change the subject."

"Really, I'm flattered, but I think I'm a little young for you. I mean, I am of legal age, but I'm still your student and I don't think it would be approp-"

She put up a hand to stop him. "That's enough. You've made your point."

"Good. Can I go now?"

"No. I want to start seeing some effort from you. If you're going to pass this class, you'll have to actually show up."

Bender grimaced. "Yeah, I understand that, but, you see, being a juvenal delinquent is a 24/7 kind of job and I can't start compromising my good name by showing up to classes all the time."

Mrs. Cardarelli studied him closely. "Don't pretend like you're stupid, John, because I know that you aren't."

Bender scoffed. "You have to say that to everyone. All teachers do. It's a law."

"It's not a law and, no, I don't say it to every student. I've read your essays. You know, the one or two you've managed to turn in. Do you read in your spare time?"

Bender narrowed his eyes. "No."

"That's funny because your vocabulary is outstanding and you've got a knack for sentence structure." She smirked. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Bender clenched his jaw. "So, I'm a genius, is that it? The intelligent, misunderstood criminal not living up to his full potential. It's a little clichéd."

"Maybe, but it's true."

"So, where does that leave me? I think the smart criminal gig's only good for planning bank robberies."

"It doesn't have to be that way."

"Oh, and how can it be?"

"Well, for starters you can show up for class. Maybe pass the eleventh grade. Then, who knows? Maybe you can go to college."
Bender let out a sharp chuckle. "Is this the part where you tell me that if I only applied myself, then maybe I could 'make something of my life'?"

"This isn't a joke, John. It's your future."

"Is there a difference?"

"There can be."

Bender smiled condescendingly. "I appreciate what you're trying to do here, Tess. Really, I do. But this routine only works in the movies and, last time I checked, this isn't a movie." He took a few steps towards the door.

"John."

He turned, eyebrows arched expectantly.

"I expect to see you in class tomorrow."

"I'm sure you do." He grinned and blew her a kiss. "See you around, Tess."

Brian let out a small yelp as a piece of wood fell onto his foot from the table he was using as a workspace. He took a deep breath and bent down to pick it up, cursing that stupid kiddie slide for ruining life. Shop was hard enough with two hands. With one, it was practically impossible.

"Is everything alright?"

Brian looked up to see Mr. Douglas, his shop teacher, standing in front of him. Mr. Douglas didn't tolerate slackers or smart mouths, but he was a nice man and Brian liked him. "Um, yes, sir."

"How did you break your arm?"

Brian sighed, though he knew he'd have to start answering the question sooner or later. "I fell."

Mr. Douglas nodded and didn't ask him to elaborate, which Brian appreciated. "I know it's going to give you some problems when it comes to finishing your table."

Brian looked at the pile of wood at his feet. Some of the pieces were cut and ready to be put together, while others were untouched. He hadn't even started on the detailing yet and wondered what on earth he'd do when it came time for that. "Yes, sir."

"Well, I'm afraid that you'll have to finish it, despite your injury. It wouldn't be fair to the other students if I let you off the hook." He gave Brian an understanding smile. "But it would also be unfair to penalize you for something you can't control. I would be happy to let you stay after school to work on it. If it came down to it, I may also give you an extension." He paused. "I know this class has been difficult for you, but I appreciate your hard work."

Brian nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Mr. Douglas smiled. "We'll just take it one step at a time, alright?"

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Douglas left Brian to his work, which was nearly pointless since he wasn't really getting anything done anyway. He slumped back down in his seat and stared at his notes, which were mathematically correct in every way. Not that it mattered when he couldn't use the table saw without nearly slicing off one of his fingers.

"Awww, that's so sweeeet."

Brian glanced across the aisle, where a couple of boys were smirking at him. One was pretending that he was about to cry. "Look, guys. It's got hearts and everything."

Brian blushed and glanced down at his cast. He had promised Leah that she could draw on it if she left him and Claire alone long enough to finish studying on Sunday. Unfortunately, he'd been too wrapped up in reading Hamlet that he hadn't paid any attention to what she'd been drawing. A deadly mistake, as he soon learned. There, in full color, were hearts, stars, flowers, rainbows and stick figures, including one on a slide with 'Brian' written above it in large pink letters. He could have killed her.

"And look at the rainbows! It's like Care Bears or something."

Brian clenched his jaw and turned back to his page of notes. Wasn't that what you were supposed to do when someone picked on you, ignore them? In his experience, it hadn't ever worked, but theories existed for a reason and he was willing to stick with that option since he really didn't have any others. It still didn't change the fact that he hated guys like that. He hated that they thought they were so much better than he was just because they were suave and good-looking and could probably force him to eat his own liver if they wanted to.

"Hey, dork. Can I draw a picture, too?"

Brian tried even harder to focus on the paper in front of him. Two inches thick, 30 inches wide and…

"I'll draw you some flowers. Roses, since they're obviously your favorite."

…18 inches long. It's 36 inches tall, so the legs have to be…

"But only if I can use the pink marker because that's my favorite."

Brian had never been so happy to hear the bell ring in his entire life.