Impavid

Trigonometry

     "Now," I placed a notebook down in front of him, "Let's get to work."

     Luke grunted, picking up his phone. I rolled my eyes, annoyed. "Try to do this problem, Luke," I growled, "I don't want to be here any more than you do." He slammed his palms on the table, making me jump as he stood, his phone crashing to the floor.

     "Then leave!" He yelled, "Nobody's making you stay here, Carson!" I blinked, almost feeling like I was going to cry for some reason. I didn't answer him. "It's hopeless anyway," His voice was quieter, "That's what happens when you move somewhere new in the middle of the year. I failed the first quiz because I didn't know his style. Everyone else learns that by September. I don't know what's going on! I missed the first half of the chapter!" He wasn't shouting anymore, but he was still enthusiastic. He was upset.

     I finally spoke. "I take it you didn't want to move," I stated, matching his quiet voice. He slumped back into his chair. This was our second tutoring session. 

      The first one didn't accomplish much, as we were too busy moving around from my kitchen table, to his, to his room, to mine for most of the hour. My parents needed the living room, and they'd be loud. His dad's office wasn't far from the kitchen, and our noise would bother him. His mom didn't approve of us in his room, even with the door open, either. I finally suggested my room, and we settled in, him sitting at my desk. Even with most of the hour gone, the sense of urgency wasn't there. He spent another ten minutes poking around the books on the shelf above my desk, and another five complaining about how distracting my chair was since it could spin. He kept spinning to look at me as I sat crosslegged on my bed.

     This time, we'd decided to meet in one of the study rooms at the local library. He was ten minutes late, which he blamed on getting lost in a new town and the lack of parking even though there was a lot literally right across the street from the entrance that was free and never full. 

      I'd known better than to distract him by bringing up anything other than school. I'd asked him as we crossed the street if he liked basketball. He was still talking about it when we climbed the stairs to his room. He had forgotten this topic briefly when his mother passed by his room carrying a laundry basket full of clean, folded clothes and scolded him for having a girl in his room. It didn't matter to her that I was tutoring him. She looked sympathetically at me, telling me she knew Luke, and we needed to go.

     He was right back on the topic of basketball, how he'd played since he could walk, and how angry he was that he had to quit the team to move even when he was the star player and was going to start every game the following season. I couldn't help but wonder what his mother would think of us going to my room as we crossed the street again, heading back from which we had just came.

     I couldn't help but distract him this time. He seemed upset, and I was talking before I had even realized it. He shook his head, "You already know how much I wanted to play basketball at my old school." I nodded, and he continued, "And don't even get me started about my friends. The guys I've been hanging out with here..." He trailed off.

     I bit my lip, wondering if I should say what was on my mind. "Yeah," I decided to, "I've seen cop lights by your house a few times." He looked up at me, blinking once, before grabbing his pencil. 

      "We should work," He said, writing down a math problem. I looked around the room, trying to figure out what to say, before I decided on saying nothing as I settled into the chair next to him. 

      "What don't you understand?" I asked him, peeking over at his work. It was all right so far.

       "I get it all," he finally answered.