The Outlier II

TWO

"And I don't want your pity, I just want somebody near me."
"And I know no one will save me, I just need someone to kiss,
Give me one good honest kiss,
And I'll be alright."

As expected, on Tuesday I didn't see Edward in English. His seat beside Lagahari was as empty as it was on Monday. And while Mr. Mason was taking attendance, I half-expected Edward to appear and smile at me like he usually did when he entered.

"You are allowed to read a work of literature— translated to English or otherwise— and you are allowed to discuss the contents of your book with a partner," Mr. Mason announced. 

"If I hear you talking of anything but the book you're reading, you'll be made to stand in front of the class and read a full chapter of your book for all of us," Mr. Mason gravely added. "Pair up." 

I felt a tap on my shoulder. Nicholas Lagahari nodded his head towards the seat beside him, gesturing for us to be partners. I nodded as I moved my things to sit beside him. I could feel Mike's curious glances from the corner of my eye. 

"What're you reading?" I asked. 

"Slaughterhouse-Five."  

"You?" he asked. 

"Thus Spoke Zarathustra," I said. 

"What genre?" Nicholas asked. 

"Philosophy." I knew the answer to the question I was going to ask but I asked it regardless, "yours?" 

"It's a mix— kind of a historical fiction, science fiction, and it's a bit of a psychological thriller." 

"Nice," I complimented. For the first time, I saw Nicholas Laghari smile. 

I remained flipping through the pages of my book until Nicholas Laghari spoke once more— a record for a quiet boy like him. 

"Are you happy with your grades?" he asked. 

"'Spose I am," I shrugged. "You?" 

"I guess?" he said as more of a question than a statement. "I'm in the top twenty percent but I'm not satisfied with my Chemistry or Calc grade."

"I didn't do too well in Chemistry this year either, the American units of measurement are different to what I'm used to. I keep forgetting that the formulas are going to be different." 

"Yeah, I don't have that excuse," he laughed, "I'm just bad at everything to do with math." 

"Will you tell me what percentage you got in Chem and Calc?" I asked teasingly. 

"Only if you tell me what you got in Chem and your other lowest grade," Nicholas amended. 

"Fine with me," I shrugged.

"You go first." 

"Absolutely not," I declined, "you go first." 

"How 'bout we write it on a piece of paper and pass it to each other at the same time?" Nicholas suggested. I nodded and he tore a strip of paper out of his binder and gave me half of it. 

I scribbled down my lowest grades with a small side note, 

Chem - A- 
Gym - B+ (I skip a lot)

I folded my paper in half and slid it into the pages of my now non-blank book. Nicholas, bless his wunderkind brain, understood immediately and slid his note into his book. We swapped books and I flipped through the pages until I found the one with the note wedged into the fold. I pulled the note out and read it. 

Calculus - 91%
Chemistry - 90.8%

"This isn't even that bad though," I protested. 

"Say that to my parents," he scoffed.