Tomorrow would be Monday, and I had accomplished nothing over the weekend besides meeting Gerard.
"What's that?" Gerard inquired, looking at the papers I had spread across our lunch table.
"Homework," I sighed.
He sighed, too. "Oh."
I just nodded, tapping the pencil I had brought on the table. "I hate school. With a passion... A burning passion, actually."
He laughed a bit, lips pulling back into a slightly crooked smile. "I know what you mean. The people there are horrible."
"Aren't they, though? I wish I were home schooled... It must be fun." I'd always wanted to be home schooled. I hated school, I hated the teachers, I hated the other students. Everything about public school sucked.
"It's alright," Gerard said vaguely. "I miss public school, sometimes, but it's nice having my brother as my only classmate. He's easy to put up with."
"Are you one of those people who like learning?" I asked. "I'm not exactly a fan of it, but..."
He laughed a bit, one side of his smile slightly higher than the other. "I enjoy learning, yes. I don't enjoy reviewing things or practicing things, but I like learning new things."
I pointed vaguely to my paper. "You don't think you could possibly help me with this, then, do you?"
"It won't hurt to give it a shot. What is that, math?"
I nodded, turning the paper to face him. "Yeah. I'm horrible at it. It's my worst subject, next to... Well, next to everything else. You any good with numbers?"
"You could say that."
His hazel eyes danced, scanning across the equations, and every few seconds that fluttered closed or glanced upwards for a few moments, before going back to the paper, moving on to the next equation.
"Do you seriously understand this shit?" I asked disbelieving, warning his eyes as they moved with careful precision over the equations. It was all like another language, to me. Anyone who understood it was instantly a god.
"Yeah," he said, turning the paper back around to me. "It's pretty basic."
I stared at him, holding out my pencil. It was not at all 'pretty basic.' If it was 'pretty' anything, it was a 'pretty' accurate description of hell.
"Explain it, then."
He turned the paper back around to face him and scribbled some things in the corner, glancing at the equation every few seconds to double check his work.
"Here." He turned the paper back around. "The answer is negative six. I think you just forgot to carry the variable."
I looked from him to the math he had done and his annoyingly perfect handwriting, and then back up to him. "How old are you, again?"
"Seventeen. And how old are you?"
"Sixteen."
He nodded, pausing for a long minute. "Why, exactly, is age relevant to this situation?"
"Because. You- I mean- I don't know. You're smart, is all."
He paused for a few seconds, tilting his head to the side, lips turned down slightly. "I suppose I am. I think my last IQ test did score a few points above average... But I took that about a year ago. There's no telling if it's dropped or risen sense then."
I laughed at his lack of modesty. "I'm serious. Anyone who can understand this stuff must be a genius."
He laughed, too. "No, I'm not a genius. I just enjoy math."
