Stick around (RINNEY)

10

By the time dinner was finally ready and placed out for them, the sun had already set, shying away behind the complex swirls of dark clouds that hung in the sky, making it almost pitch black outside. Due to the lack of light and the winds gradually starting to pick up, temperatures had dropped dramatically.

Robin suggested that the two share a blanket so they weren't as cold. Of course. Finney doesn't object. They slump a big fluffy blanket over both of their shoulders, their body's pressed close up against one another as they huddled up. They both knew there was way more than one blanket, and they could have their own, but neither one of them said anything about it. They just stayed silent and enjoyed the warmth it gave them, inside and out.

In their laps were warm bowls of spaghetti, one bowl being significantly emptier than the other. Robin had always noticed that Finney didn't eat a lot for a boy of his age, but he always bit his tongue. He didn't want to say anything that could possibly upset him, nor was it any of his business anyway.

They were going through some math questions as Robin had a test coming up sometime next week. He knew that if he got another F, he would sure be suspended for real this time. Not just a bluff to get him to do work. He never did understand why the school punished people for not being as bright as others. It wasn't his fault he was more street-smart, and it wasn't like he was intentionally trying to fail ever. So why kick the kids whilst they're already down as it is?

"So, what's ¼ as a percentage?" Finney posed him the question. Robin looked up at him and blinked, a blank expression on his face. It was as if all of a sudden, everything Finney had told him just got ripped away from his memory and thrown in the trash. Maybe that was his problem. Why he was failing. Because he couldn't remember the important things, but he can remember something so stupid like what he last ordered at a random diner.

"Uhh." He trailed off trying to recall any of Finney's words. Finn frowned as he realised Robin had already forgotten.

"I just told you, Robin." He brings his hand up to the bridge of his nose, pinching it in frustration. Robin couldn't understand how Finney hadn't lost his temper already with the slow boy. Anyone else would have by now. But not Finney. Not sweet old Finney. "The first step is to make the denominator out of a hundred." He says, not giving away the answer but merely pushing Robin into the right direction.

"Hmph." Robin looked back at the fraction written in black ink on the crumpled page. "Which one's the denominator again?"

"The bottom one." Finney replied, no judgment in his tone. That's what Robin liked so much about Finn. He could ask as many stupid questions as he liked, and Finney wouldn't judge. Not like his teachers, who put him down and called him stupid in front of the whole class. "If you need help remembering that, just think of d for down." Robin paused what he was doing just to stare at him in awe.

"How are you so smart?" The words travel from his brain and blurts out of his mouth, making a spirited smile appear on Finney's face, pushing his cheeks up. Robin could see the small glimmer in his eyes. The shine of happiness. It was obvious he didn't get complemented a lot.

"I'm not that smart." He discarded, turning his head away and trying his best to appear as nonchalant and humble as he could.

"Are you kidding me?! You're like the smartest person I know!" Robin exclaimed. It was the truth. Finney was the only person who could actually make some sort of sense. Who could put anything into words.

"Ok, well, back to the question." Robin's shoulders slumped in disappointment. This was really starting to bore him. Even if he was the one who suggested it.

"Um." He looked at the bottom number. "Well, to get four to a hundred, you have to multiply by...." He looked up as he imagined the sum in his mind. "Twenty?" He raised an eyebrow hopefully, but Finney shook his head. "Twenty-five." He answered with more confidence this time.