Okay, so lovely space of time again. Thankfully, my wonderfully talented cousin loves this fic, so I am more motivated to have it finished shortly. Hopefully, the next post will include more than one chapter. Hopefully this wasn't too short- I thought it was cute.

Gezi- I agree. I didn't realize they all had similar speech patterns. I'll be sure to pay that more mind for future chapters. Thanks for the review and I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

All comments and criticism welcome (nothing too mean people!) And I hope you read more from me! At the next posting. Happy September.

Lesson Number One: Tricky Equations

The clock still hung from its impenetrable height, still ticking but growing louder and louder with each second that passed. Was I irritated? No. It was only five thirty- I had fallen asleep at my desk after late-night grading. Ignoring a pathetic groan, I leaned into the groove formed inadvertently by my slumber. On either side, towering like mythological creatures from books I'd read as a child were yester night's endeavors, ready to be sent out and perhaps reward me with a holiday advance.

Craning my head skywards I blinked sleep from my eyes, reveling in their brief closure and allowed my head brief rest against the hard wood of the oaken chair.

"Mister Shields?" a knock- inside my head a knock. My eyes flew open and in a bursting moment of pain light penetrated into the deepest depths of my cornea. In response, my body half catapulted itself from where it had been so comfortably at rest and in my moment of weakness panic set in as the vision of a petite blond appeared from nowhere. "We, uh, had a tutorial today…" she trailed and glanced around, somewhat confusedly as though she herself hadn't a clue where she was or how she'd gotten here. Sensing awkwardness, I blinked to reality and glanced at the clock.

"You're late," I said flatly before standing. Striding to the window, I flicked them open, allowing some morning light into the darkened office. She yawned in response and reposed lazily into a front row desk. I frowned. "Did you at least bring your textbook?" Oh the drunken myriad as she pulled with extraneous effort a paperbound package, newly packaged and deposited it heavily on my desk. My hand hovered over my forehead, feeling heat emanating like it does for those who have not reached the necessary sleep quota. "Right, then let's get started," and I reseated myself across from her. The textbook stared up at me, its pages smooth and glossy and unstained by human hands. Opening it, the index showed me everything I needed to know- where the equations hid, how to solve algebraic problems- I felt slightly giddy at the thought of mathematics. There was nothing simpler in the world. "I assume you've studied permutable combinations?"

Her eyes gazed sleepily to me, darkened as her lashes draped them. They closed in an extended blink and reopened as blank as before. "Well?" I asked once more.

"I think we were doing parables…" I rolled my eyes.

"Parabolas?" She shivered, straightened her posture and blinked hard.

"That's what I'd said," her words flowed like whiny streams. Her very demeanor only increased my irritability.

"Well, Miss Tsukino. Perhaps you would prefer to return home, to that down filled bed of yours until such a time you are prepared to work at your studies." Suddenly, she seemed snapped awake, her eyes wide in terror.

"No! No, I'm sorry Mister Shields I am paying attention…" A smirk cocked my lips as I recalled the motivational fear parents always seemed able to implement on the young.

"Right then, let's begin where'd you'd left off. Algebraic equations are defined as…"

A half hour had passed in complete silence. With only minutes left of our tutorial, I was amazed at how quickly time had gone. Though proficient in arguments and points, her intellect seemed to fail miserably at any mathematical property. It was as though, after the introduction of long division her brain shut down, barred its doors and placed a threatening 'no entry!' sign. Currently, her blond hair glistened as she slouched over a sheet of scribbles, still working on our first equation and growing increasingly agitated with each second. Finally, she slammed down her pencil and groaned. Snatching the paper in her tiny grip, she shoved the messy inscriptions before me. Scrunching her face cutely, she cried,

"This is the answer, it has to be…" there was a panic in her voice, and her cheeks were flushed adding to the wild look in her eyes. Slowly and deliberately, I removed the paper from her and glanced it over: and grimaced. Her mouth widened. "No," she hissed. Her hand dropped and her face fell into impervious anger as though somehow her inefficiencies were my fault. "You're lying! I did the whole equation! I double-checked! I backtracked!" Collapsing on her desk, a sound akin to the pitiful wail of an animal caught in a trap left her lips, though her body now seemed deflated.

"Yes, you did, that's true." Picking a red pen from the surface of the desk, I pointed to the question. "But all that was being asked was to find and determine the variable." Her head lifted slowly, glaring incredulously my way.

"That's what I did!" I shook my head. Her pathetic display was guiltily humorous. I held my chuckle.

"No. You fractioned the equation." I pointed to her many scribbles and notes. Circling the primary equation (2y+3+1/35) I underlined the Y. Then, in two simple steps, I reversed the equation. Just as her brain began self-destruction, the bell rang, signaling the beginning of the day. In the hallways I suddenly heard the hooves of troops that had passed previously unnoticed. Looking back to the exasperated girl (who currently sat in attempts of destroying the textbook by sight), I felt the urge to offer some form of condolence. Sighing exasperatingly, I added "well, we'll pick it up from here tomorrow. It was only the first day."

Dragging herself from the bureau, she stretched her arms overhead, releasing the morning tension of academics, and I noticed that though she was petite, her body seemed toned, as though from sport.

"Golly gee," she muttered as she retrieved her bag. "I certainly can't wait." And she turned toward the door, her oversized skirt floating around her legs, cardigan pulled tight and mumbling insanely to herself.

"Meatball head," She spun, her face red with embarrassment and anger, and raised a brow. Lifting the heavy book from my desk, I grinned. "Don't forget your text. You might find it necessary when practicing pages 201-215 tonight." Her jaw dropped and a cruel joy spread to my eyes. "I deeply advise using your study period efficiently." Stalking towards me, her lips pulled sourly into a frown, her hair framing it all like some work of Picasso, she snatched the book, her whole body dropping a little under its weight.

"Thanks piles, MR. Shields," she stressed the title and we both knew what she truly meant. "I'll be sure to do just that." A stressed- and slightly insane- smile stretched across her marble skin. As she was almost out the door, I called again.

"Oh, Bunny," she winced at her name. "I'll be sure to see you here and on time for Social Studies." She continued without pausing out the door, her only retort was its loud slam into the metal frame. The commotion outside settled slowly as the clock ticked shortly passed eight o'clock and I too noticed my first class was late. Settling into the tough wooden chair, my eyes fell shut and for a moment, a brief time before the first student ran in late from homeroom, something warm awoke within.