His theorem

x^0

~mica~

Fuuuuuck!
I groaned as I felt my head hit the top of the staircase. Again. This always seems to happen and I'm beginning to think stairs around the world have some sort of vendetta against me.

"Ah, Mica, just the lad I wanted to see", I heard our careers advisor bellow from the end of the hall. I shut my eyes, reopened them, then turned to meet his overly happy gaze.

"Mr Taylor" I nodded in recognition. Mr Taylor was one of those teachers... you know, the teachers who try to act like he's more student/friend than a teacher. It's so utterly embarrassing, I felt like puking every time I see him.

He nudges my shoulder commenting "you never stop growing, ay? I'll have to start calling you our BFG" he states laughing to himself a bit. I was less than unimpressed as I steadied myself and looked down upon his pitiful form. To be honest, I never quite understood his purpose here, he strolls around the academy telling us what we already know. I sighed as I remembered I will have to reply if I wanted the conversation to end.

"My parents are tall" I reply, keeping it concise.

"Aha, right okay," he said awkwardly, "Well, I know you're planning on going for the big dogs, but we are yet to see any activities not relating to maths. Don't get me wrong bro, your personal statement is great and all but you should really try to get some other qualities down, not just your BFG brains. You feel me?" He finished with an arch in his pierced eyebrow and a slight smirk.

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind" I simply commented as I began turning to continue on my way. I didn't care to check if he was finished with the conversation, though I'm sure he will, unfortunately, find me another time during the week.

I kept my gaze low as I walked through the unnecessarily crowded hallways, school has yet to peak my interest. I hated it. Although I was top of my class, I still certainly was not a "school person", no not by any means. Staying at home was more for me, for I greatly appreciated my own company and despised unnecessary human interaction.

My fiery hair kept obscuring my vision as I continued to walk the usual path towards my locker, I made a quick note to cut it.

As I looked up, I made eye contact with the only person I felt some sort of positivity for. Her blonde hair bopped around in angelic ringlets as she walked, no bounced towards me. I felt the corners of my lips lifting slightly as I took in her dainty figure.

Isabel. Isabel was my best friend, my only friend in fact. I've known her for the majority of my 18 years of life and her seemingly simple mentality is what has got us through years of friendship. She is the blueprint? She can't help but constantly have the classic girl next door aura surrounding her, and deep down I know she loves it. She loves that people look at her as a reliable, stable figure; she loves knowing that she attracts primal men who have the urge to protect the petite blonde. From the way she only wears light colours to how she would never dare to wear harsh or sharp makeup, Isabel made sure her image remained fixed.

Isabel is also my ex-girlfriend.

Naturally, when you are presented with a female such as Isabel you subconsciously can't help but picture yourself in a relationship with her. She is simple. I am simple. We can be simple. My brain thought it was as easy as basic maths. 2+2 will always equal 4 and Isabel will always equal tranquillity.

"There you are! You never check your phone," she smiled as she reprimanded me, "it's so annoying", she finished feigning irritation. She looked up at me with her big blue eyes, strategically placing her hands behind her back as if to draw my attention to her hands and then to her body.