Heya! Well, here we are with Chapter Six! Just a warning, I'm going to be pretty busy starting in August. I'll write when I can, but volleyball is about to take over. Also, this is irrelevant, but wish me luck—I'm working a double shift tomorrow and next Saturday. Tomorrow's is 10 hours and next Saturday is 12. I'm not excited.
Anywho, thanks so much for all the nice reviews! You guys are the best. Enjoy this chapter!
On Wednesday during lunch, Annabelle is finishing up a test so Bethany and I sit alone.
"Oh gosh, I think I just failed my Government test," she complains, munching on a bag of chips. "Like, what the hell was up with that last section?"
"Ugh, I know," I agree. I take a sip of water. "I honestly swear that half of that last section didn't even have correct answers. And that essay totally kicked my ass."
"Don't even get me started on that," she groans, setting down her chips. "I didn't even know what I was talking about."
I laugh. "Me neither. I just rambled on about checks and balances for, like, the whole page. I'll be surprised if I get anything above a B."
"Same," she replies. "That test was brutal."
Just then, I spot Mal out of the corner of my eye. He walks behind Bethany, stopping suddenly as if his plan just moments before was to keep walking.
"Hey," he greets awkwardly, clumsily shoving his hands in his pockets. "We, um, still on for later?"
"Oh, uh, hi. Yeah," I answer quickly. "If you still need help, that is."
"Yeah, I do."
I nod. "All right… So, uh, I'll see ya' after school, then?"
Now he nods. "Yep. See ya'." With that, he walks off and joins a table of his friends.
Bethany is still smirking at me when I look back at her.
"What?" I question in exasperation. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"
"Someone's got a boyfriend," she chimes in a sing-song voice. Much to my personal disgust, I feel my cheeks heat up a little.
"He's not my boyfriend," I hiss. "We're not even really friends. I'm just helping him with Physics."
"Yeah, sure," she says sarcastically. "Right."
"So, uh… Ready for that Physics test tomorrow?" I ask, hurriedly changing the subject. She's still giving me a weird look, but she answers nonetheless.
"Is anyone ever really ready for any type of test?" she points out.
"Touché," I laugh.
We chat the rest of lunch until the dismissal bell rings. We then toss our garbage in one of the large trashcans and head off to Geometry. The rest of the day passes as it usually does: slow and boring. When the final bell rings, I realize that Mal and I had never mentioned where we were going to meet. I quickly gather my things before starting out to look for him. I scan the area where the junior lockers are, but there's no sign of him. I decide to turn back down the hallway I just came from, resolving to head back to the freshman wing just in case he came looking for me. I'm fiddling on my phone as I pass the bathroom and almost don't see the door swing open and someone rush out. I snap my head up and stop just short of running right into Mal.
He mutters a half-hearted apology before glancing down to see who he ran into.
"Oh, uh… Hi, Natara," he manages as I clumsily step back. I look up to meet his gaze and can't help but notice that his eyes are slightly reddened. He looks upset.
"I, uh… You okay?" I ask him.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he answers a bit too quickly. "Do you want to, uh, go somewhere else? Like, not in the building?" He glances around as if looking for someone he's trying to evade.
"Oh, well, yeah, I guess," I answer, slightly perplexed. "Downstairs courtyard?"
He nods before taking off at a rather quick pace.
"What's the rush?" I question as I nearly run to catch up.
He slows down just a hair. "Oh, sorry. I'm just… I'm trying to avoid the school counselor."
Counselor?
I'm tempted to ask why, but I don't. Instead, I simply mutter, "Oh, I see," as we descend the stairs, walk down the hall, and push open the double doors that lead to the lower courtyard. We sit down at a table, and we both pull our Physics review sheets out.
"So, um, what do you need help on?"
He flips the packet over and points to the very last section. It contains five problems, and they're all circled in pencil lead. "These ones. I'm not sure how to do them. And, uh, if you don't mind… Could you maybe check over some of the ones I already did? Ya' know… Just to let me know if I actually did them right or not?"
"Yeah, of course," I agree.
I begin to explain how to do the section he has circled. After re-explaining and showing him an example, I ask, "Do you think you can do those while I look at the rest of your review sheet?"
He nods, then tears just the back page off from the staple. "Yeah, I think so." He hands the rest of the packet to me.
For the next half-hour, we both wordlessly work on the task at hand. I finish checking his work, finding that he only got a few wrong. The ones he did get wrong were only minor errors; I think he's getting it. I eye Mal's paper and see that he only has one left, though he seems to be stuck on it. I decide to let him try for another few minutes, and I resolve to mindlessly doodle on a piece of scratch paper.
"What's the actual answer to this?" he questions, pointing at the last problem.
I glance down at my paper that contains the answers I know are correct—I checked them in the textbook. "Seventy-eight-point-two."
"Ugh," Mal sighs, erasing part of his work and re-trying.
A couple minutes, Mal lets out a frustrated grunt and throws his pencil down. Startled, I jerk my head up as the pencil bounces off the table and lands in the grass near my feet.
"I give up!" he exclaims in exasperation. "I can't do this! I don't even know why I took this damn class." I take a quick glance at his paper.
"No, keep going," I encourage, leaning over to pick up his pencil. "You just made one minor error. Plus," I add, holding up his review packet, "you have almost all of these correct. C'mon, Mal. You're smart; you can do it."
As I hand him back his pencil, our fingers brush. He meets my determined gaze, sighs, and accepts the writing utensil before reluctantly going over his work once again. A couple minutes later, he sets the pencil down again in a much calmer fashion.
"There," he states with a sigh. "Finally."
I look at his circled answer and smile at him. "There ya' go! See, told ya' you almost had it."
We then go over the few questions he got wrong within the rest of the packet.
"… So as long as you keep the frequency in mind," I finish, "you should be able to figure those out."
He exhales one of those 'oh, now I get it!' sounds before laying down his pencil.
"Thanks for helping me," he says, flashing me an earnest smile.
"You're welcome," I reply, returning the smile. I shoot my mom a quick text before we both gather up our stuff and walk back the way we came. A strange sense of sadness seems to hang on Mal, and I'm beginning to get the idea that there's something-other than Physics-that's bothering him.
I don't want to pry, since he's clearly been trying to hide it, but I ask anyways. "Hey, uh, Mal?" I prod as we emerge outside into the front courtyard. He glances over at me, and I take that as a signal to proceed. "Are you sure you're okay?"
He sighs and looks at the ground. He's silent for several moments, then stops walking and looks down at me. I'm starting to think that he's just going to ignore the question when he speaks up. "I… I'm fine, it's just…" He bites his lip and looks straight ahead. "My mom's… sick. She's had an extremely aggressive form of cancer for a while now, and well…" He pauses, then pulls out his phone, opens a set of messages, and hands the device to me.
I recognize the name of the sender as Mal's older sister, Cynthia. It was sent during the middle of the day, just a half-hour before the final dismissal bell usually rings.
Mom's going downhill again, the text reads. She needed another emergency surgery that they performed this afternoon. She's out of it now and I think it went alright, but they won't let her have visitors yet. She's having trouble coming out of the anesthesia again. I know you're in school right now, but I'll let you know when we can see her. Just go home if you don't hear from me before school's out.
I scroll down to the second message, also from Cynthia. It was sent just a few minutes ago, actually.
Come to the hospital when you can. She's stable, but barely. Love you.
I hand his phone back, shocked at what I'd read.
"I… I'm really sorry, Mal," is all I could think of to say.
He shrugs. "It's alright," he replies softly, suddenly very interested in something on the cracked cement.
I don't know what else to say, so we both just linger there wordlessly. After a few moments, he inhales sharply, then clears his throat.
"Well, I'm... I should go. Your mom on the way?"
"Yeah," I nod as I see her car pull in the parking lot. "She's actually right there."
Mal glances up and nods. "Alright, cool. So... See ya' at school, then?"
"Yeah," I reply with a shy smile. "Have a good night."
He manages a slight grin. "You too."