It's the 1st of September. Class 9-A's paper calendar has turned a new leaf. The corner of the room was a sight to look at. The props from yesterday's competition had been put away, but a plaque that read "Folk Dance Champion" stood like a shrine at the southwestern wing. Looking at it warmed their young hearts. One glance, and the memories of that day come pouring in.
Mr. Flores came extra early, around 6:45. The teacher was still smiling from yesterday's festivities. The classroom wasn't even full yet, but the voices made it seem like it was when a giant box of pizza was carried by a delivery boy into the room. What a great way to start the day. Pizza for breakfast? Who would resist! The latecomers would be disappointed to find a large box in the middle of the room with barely 12 inches of pizza left. The early birds hogged them all.
Oliver burped. "That pizza was amazing." He told his friends.
"Yeah. Your injury was worth it after all." Jake joked.
"No pain, no gain. Am I right?" Oliver said.
"You have to thank me for it. If it weren't for my little prank, who knows what we'd place?" Jake joked.
"Well, if you didn't do that, maybe I wouldn't have hurt my ankle so bad that I had to be carried back home!" Oliver exclaimed. "So you won't be getting any thanks from me, dumb*ss"
The five boys laughed at their interaction. Jake always knew how to push Oliver's buttons at just the right weight. It was true, Oliver didn't owe the other any thanks. However, someone WAS thankful for that little prank.
If it weren't for Jake's prank, Caden wouldn't have been able to carry the prince to his quarters. No other situation would have warranted that interaction – carrying the small boy and looking into the portals to his soul. Caden wouldn't have stitched his trousers if it weren't for Jake. That single, albeit dangerous action has led to multiple blessings for Caden.
Homeroom fluttered by too quickly. Everyone had their fill, and Mr. Flores went out of the room with the giant box crumpled in his hand. His figure was quickly exchanged with Ms. De Guzman's.
"Good morning, class! Congratulations on winning 1st!" She greeted the class.
She proceeded with her roll call, calling out each surname one by one, followed by a "Present!" and a raised hand.
Math class was about functions today. Ms. De Guzman flashed many different functions on the classroom projector. She was teaching how different functions looked like when plotted on a graph. Everyone was sluggish from the lecture. Math in the morning definitely wasn't a good scheduling choice by the school.
Ms. De Guzman flipped to the next slide. It showed two equations that warranted a single answer.
"f(x) = 2x + 3" and "f(x) = 2x – 1" the projector showed. "Who could give me the slopes of these two equations?" The teacher asked.
"2, ma'am." Oliver answered.
She nodded with approval. "Now, can anyone guess what these equations manifest as when graphed?"
"They're parallel lines, ma'am." Theo answered.
"Very good." She commented. With a flick of her remote, she showed a graph with two lines at a certain distance together, both leaning at the same degree.
"Now, it is characteristic of parallel lines to never meet, correct? If that were the case, what do you think could be changed to get the two to intersect?"
YOU ARE READING
Those Damn Dimples (BL)
RomanceA lot of Caden's later years were spent with the absence of his father, a man whom he had always wanted to feel by his side. He longed for his father, to feel safe in his arms when he's in peril. The man was always abroad, working. Caden had conside...
