Broken Hands

89. The study

The study group wasn't at all what Grayson had envisioned. He had thought it might be an easy, laid-back opportunity to get through the pile of prep work for exams while maybe even enjoying some quiet camaraderie. Instead, it felt like he was trapped in a bustling classroom—a whirlwind of voices, scribbles, and questions flying past him like darts.

To make the group work, Grayson had been forced to play a dangerous card: inviting Mr. Rox. Rox was the only way he could get Antoine out of Durham's strict confines, but unfortunately, Rox had also dragged along Goldman, who Grayson absolutely didn't want there. Goldman's smug attitude grated on Grayson's nerves, but Rox had insisted and Grayson was going to use this to clear the favor he owed the boy. Milo and Savanna were there too, of course, as planned, and to Grayson's surprise, Julian and Grace had joined in as well. Grace had claimed she wanted to "be prepared for this," though Grayson suspected she just wanted to hang out with Russell. Julian, on the other hand, had no reason to be there other than boredom—but he had brought his sharp wit and endless commentary with him, which wasn't exactly helping Grayson focus.

The dining table was packed. Notebooks and past exam papers covered every available surface, along with pencils, calculators, and half-eaten snacks. It should have felt productive, but to Grayson, it felt overwhelming.

"Alright, let's go through this next question," Rox said, his green eyes scanning the group as he wrote an equation on the whiteboard they'd set up in the living room. His voice was calm and patient, but Grayson still couldn't help but feel like he was back at Durham, drowning under the pressure of getting everything right.

Savanna's hand shot up, waving her pencil around. "Oh, I think I've got it! Is the answer 4.3?" she asked, her tone confident but a little uncertain.

"Brilliant," Rox replied with a small smile, writing the solution on the board. "That's correct. Now, can anyone tell me what formula we applied here?"

Russell leaned forward, his voice casual but sure. "It's the slope-intercept formula, right? But if you use the quadratic equation instead, you'd get 8.6."

"Exactly." Rox said, nodding in approval.

Grayson frowned at his worksheet, feeling a pang of frustration. Everyone was so quick—so relaxed. Even Savanna, who used to struggle with math and had needed him to tutor her, was breezing through it now. It stung more than he wanted to admit. He scribbled something on his sheet but couldn't even focus long enough to finish the calculation.

"Man, how do you even remember all this stuff?" Milo groaned, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "My brain feels like it's melting."

"Same," Grace muttered, chewing on the end of her pencil. "Why does math have to be so damn complicated?"

"It's not complicated," Timothy interjected with an annoying smirk. "It's logical. You just have to think about it the right way."

"Lemme get this right, you're like that geek that has all the hardest subjects on the tip of his finger?" Julian said, rolling his eyes.

Timothy raised an eyebrow. "I didn't say that, but if the shoe fits..."

"Alright, alright, let's focus," Rox interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. "We've got a lot to cover, so let's keep moving."

Julian sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair. Grace chuckled at his reaction.

Mr. Rox was showing too much patience Grayson could notice it, the man was usually hard, but he seemed to understand that this was not Durhman, or he was being a little soft because there were girls in their mist, maybe he didn't want to scare them, the more Grayson thought the farther he drifted, he never knew Rox could teach maths this was new.