Lean On Me

Chapter 6

I punched the numbers into my calculator. 2.79kJ. I flipped to the answer key at the back of the book. It's 5.37kJ. Not even close. I groaned and dropped my pen in frustration.

"At least you got the order of magnitude right."

I gripped my ruler and swatted in the direction of the voice.

"Goodness gracious me, that's the 2nd time this week. Not to mention, same spot!" Travis Taylor pouted, rolling up his sleeve.

My breath hitched, not because of his toned biceps (OK, fine, maybe that too) but because of an unpleasant looking bruise. It was purplish and I could make out the seams of the side of the racket. I knew it was going to leave a bruise. 

But this was not time to feel proud of my strength. For all I know, he could sue me for damages. Worry coursed through my veins as I peeled my eyes away from his bruise into his electrifying blue eyes.

"I can't believe I did this again, I really didn't mean it. I'll do anything for you. Anything for compensation, please, just don't sue me."

When I looked up again, I was startled to see mischief glinting in his eyes. What did I say?

"Anything?" He whispered, so tantalisingly.

Oh no. I opened my mouth to retract my promise but he threw me a devilish grin.

"Too late."

So that was the backstory behind why I was sitting at the study corner in school with him, doing Physics.

It wasn't so bad, I guess. He turned out to be really good study company, contrary to my stereotypical belief of jocks. But I still regretted saying that I'd do anything for him. Because I knew he was going to use it like a unlimited Get Out of Jail Free card.

"... So you see, gravitational potential energy is the derivative of potential with respect to time t -" I was in mid-explanation of a question we disagreed on, but he cut me off.

"No."

"It is," I retorted. "I memorised it."

"Gravitational potential is the derivative of potential with respect to displacement r. You made 2 mistakes here. It's g=dɸ/dr not U=dɸ/dt. In fact, U=∫Fdx since F=-dU/dx," he explained, writing out a detailed derivation. 

I furrowed my eyebrows and perused the derivation like a hawk, trying to find any errors. Even when I failed to do so, I was still adamant on me being right. I flipped open my notes to check and a sinking feeling pitted my stomach when I found a certain page. Truth be told, g=dɸ/dr and U=∫Fdx. To make matters worse, it was highlighted - by me- in a very striking neon pink ink.

"I thought you were supposed to be the dumbass jock," I muttered grumpily.

He chuckled, but it wasn't the same one Ms Ritters gave me. The ones that made me feel inferior and dumb. It didn't leave me feeling embarrassed, like the ones my classmates loved to give when I answered a question wrongly.

"Try deriving it. It'll stick better than memorising."

I watched him pick up a pencil to attempt the next question. He was offering a suggestion. One that I could reject or accept. It wasn't an order. I guess not all men were bossy. My Travis meter went up slightly.

Half an hour went by, and we studied in comfortable silence, occasionally glancing at each other's works to compare answers.

"What do you want to do in University?"

"My parents want me to be a lawyer." It was true, my whole life had been mapped out and planned by papa dearest. After being a lawyer and becoming well-versed in corporate law, I would be trained to manage my father's company. Once deemed worthy enough, the company would be passed on to me. 

I had to be perfect. No room for flaws.

Travis nodded slowly, as though absorbing what I had just said.

"How about you? What do you want?"

I was momentarily stunned. Wasn't law what I wanted? Whenever we had a show-and-tell, I'd wear my fake law robes. I looked elsewhere, fiddling with a dog-eared page. What did I want?

"I've not thought about it before."

"What? That's crazy! All kids dream." His tone wasn't mocking. He made me wonder.

"Never saw the use of dreaming if that's all they'd be," I mumbled to myself. But Travis heard. Travis always hears. He may seem loud, belligerent sometimes, but he listens. He cares.

"Never saw the use, or never had the chance to?"

He made me feel so transparent. No matter how short I keep my answers, he could see right through me.

"Never had the chance to." It came out as a grunt. I was still avoiding eye contact, but I could feel his intense gaze on me.

"My turn."

"Go ahead," Travis nodded.

"How are you so good at everything?" I demanded in all seriousness. Not only did he have the smarts, he had the EQ, to my surprise. At least I think that's what he's doing now.

Travis frowned. "No, I'm not."

I rolled my eyes. "Badminton, Physics, and I heard you do Chemistry Olympiad for fun. That's not normal."

"Well, I practise in my free time."

I wasn't quick enough to hide the look on my face. He narrowed his eyes. "What? You think I was born Le Chatelier? Or some badminton god bestowed a gift upon me?"

"No," I said, slightly ashamed that rumours had influenced my impression of him. "I've just been told that you spend a lot of time partying and spend your nights wastefully."

"Wastefully?"

"Yeah, like apparently you're up all night."

"Doing?"

I was so embarrassed. "Viennatoldmeyouspendnightswithgirlsinyourbed."

Can someone kill me now?

A sly expression replaced his challenging look. "Spend my nights with girls in bed?"

My heart stopped beating. I don't know if it was the mortification or the searing gaze, but I needed to escape.

"Crikey, I've gotta go! Uncle Sonny's here," I lied, stuffing my books and pens into my haversack, not bothering to file my notes properly.

The last thing I saw was amusement.