The Rampage MC #3: Atlas and Joy

Chapter 17 (Joy): The Hard Way

"One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do. Two can be as bad as one, it's the loneliest number since the number one." One Is The Loneliest Number, Three Dog Night

Math was kicking my ass. College algebra, to be exact. Quadratic equations to be even more specific. It was one of the courses I'd signed up for because I'd wanted to challenge myself. Now, I was reconsidering the wisdom of that decision, seriously asking myself why I'd deliberately done this to myself.

Maybe I'd taken it to prove something to myself, to quiet my high school algebra teacher's voice. One day, I'd forced myself to raise my hand in class to answer a question, and he'd looked at me incredulously and asked if I actually knew the answer. He knew I struggled with math and he knew I was trying my hardest since I did more problems than we were assigned and I asked him for help after class. After that humiliation, I never raised my hand in a math class again.

I was sitting at the large dining room table in the common room late at night, struggling with the assigned problems and wondering if I was going to be able to pass this course. I'd tried to get some tutoring through the college, but the five tutors who'd responded to my requests didn't explain things in a way so that I could understand. One even said I should probably have started with developmental math. That had stung, but maybe it was a case of the truth hurting.

The brothers, for the most part, left me alone. Some would ask what I was studying, I'd answer and then that'd be it. The noise in the common room never bothered me because I'd put on my headphones and play some classical music to help me focus. But tonight, Mozart was definitely not making me smarter and I was ready to throw my algebra textbook at the wall as I ripped the headphones off in frustration.

It was now after midnight, and I'd done three of the twenty problems assigned. I had two more days before they were due and was re-thinking which of the tutors hadn't been completely useless. While I was considering the merits of each one, the doors opened and five Rampage brothers walked in, tired, dirty and dusty from the road, Atlas and Max among them. They'd been gone for a week, and I'd been assigned a prospect to help me with the meal prep in Kit's absence.

Kit caught my eye and gave me a nod, not pausing as they all walked grimly toward Beard's office, probably to discuss the club business that had called them away. I'd noticed Beard stride through the common area about fifteen minutes ago, a serious look on his face, too.

I'd gone back to struggling with my problems, getting ready to call it a night half an hour later since I had to get up in about five hours when a tattooed hand tapped my paper.

"Those answers are wrong," Kit said quietly.

I couldn't help it. I'd worked an hour and a half on those three problems and they weren't even right? 

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Dammit. I'd have to hope one of the tutors would take pity on me tomorrow.

"How many problems do you have to do?"

"Twenty."

"By when?"

I looked at my phone. "In exactly forty-six hours. We have to turn them in and we have a test on them the same night they're due, which is completely unfair."

Maybe I was whining, but just a little.

Without a word, Kit walked away, and I sighed and started an email to the best of the crummy tutors. Remember me? You were right that this class was beyond me but I really need your help to try to get a D in this class.

Five minutes later, Kit and Beard were standing in front of me.

"Take the next two days off to get your math shit figured out. I'll have the club girls and the prospects figure the meals out."