Run Away || afl

Chapter IIII - The Worst is Yet to Come

Dyscalculia.

Formally known as a severe difficulty in making arithmetical calculations, as a result of brain damage. But it's more than that. It's frustration, sadness and self-hatred all bubbled into one word. A word that means you're never going to get whatever the teacher says, whether it's equations, graphs, expressions, or variables. A word that means even when it comes down to the simplest forms of math, addition and subtraction, you will still be lost. A word that means no matter how hard you try to understand, you won't. A word that means you're permanently stuck this way. A word that means your brain is slower than everybody else's. A word that means you'll never learn how to add without using your fingers. A word that means you'll never be able to remember the numbers from one hundred and above. A word that makes everyone you love disappointed. A word that makes you an even better target.

Dyscalculia. Formally known as a severe difficulty in making arithmetical calculations, as a result of brain damage. But it's more than that.

///

I walked down the hallway, my head down, books clutched tightly in my arms. The entire school day went on as if nothing had changed. The same old tormenting by the same old football stars. The same old Tristan being the hero. The same old me being weak, too weak to even fight for myself. I was even more pathetic than usual, due to the new independent life my dad threw at me. I had to be responsible now. All I wanted was to hang out with Tristan and eat pizza, but I needed to meet up with someone first. During science, I had received a note from my math teacher saying that she wanted me to talk to her after school. This, of course, caused another load of insults from them.

I finally reached the math room. Peeping my head in, I checked if she was there.

"Oh! Hello Aspen!" Mrs. Hemmings called out to me from her desk.

"Hey Mrs. H!" I smiled at her. She was one of my favorite teachers, apart from the fact that her son, Luke Hemmings, was one of my bullies, and her class was my worst subject. How could such a wonderful woman give birth to such an ass? She was one of the few people who knew about my "math problem".

"I'm glad you stopped by, take a seat, honey." Mrs. Hemmings gestured towards the stool in front of her desk. I quickly shuffled towards it and took a seat.

"So, I just wanted to tell you that you've been improving quite a lot over the last few weeks, but I want to help push your skills even more."

"Thank you so much, if it would be no trouble, I'd like that too." I smiled a genuine smile. This couldn't be that bad. Besides, I wanted to improve my math anyways, this was the perfect opportunity.

"Great! I have time every Friday at my house for around 3 hours of tutoring. Maybe afterwards, you could hang with my son and his friends." I froze. Her house, with her son, and his friends. I really wanted to say no, but she was offering to give up her own personal free time for me.

"What a great idea, I can't wait!" I lied through gritted teeth. She had no idea. That little fucker was probably a sweetie pie around his mom, and the rest of his crew were probably kissing her ass as well.

"Alright! Sounds great, see you then." Mrs. Hemmings chuckled. Quickly grinning, I turned on my heel and walked out of the classroom, engulfed in rage.

Why, this is all just swell, isn't it? I thought while marching through the parking lot. I found Tristan, sitting on the hood of his car with a drink in his hand, smirking at me.

"Why hello, little miss pissed off!" Tristan grinned sarcastically, slurping the last few drops of his drink down. I flashed him a fake smile that quickly dropped from my face.

"I have to spend my Fridays at the Hemming's place. Oh joy!" Sarcasm dripped from every syllable. I completed the good news with jazz hands. Tristan blew up in laughter, hopping down from the hood of his car.

"I HAVE NO IDEA...HOW YOU GOT YOURSELF...INTO THIS MESS...BUT IT'S PRETTY FUCKING ENTERTAINING." Tristan wheezed out, laughing between every few words. I crossed my arms and scowled at the buffoon standing before me. He was clutching his stomach, aching from laughing too hard.

"It's not funny." I replied, my face completely deadpanned.

"Sorry honey, but it really is."

"Nope."

"Yep."

"No! It's torture!"

"You'll survive."

"No, I wont."

"Yes, you will. I mean what's the worse they could do?"

"A lot of things." I just shrugged. But in my head, I knew that I definitely, did not want to think about those things.

Without saying another word I hopped into the car and turned the music all the way up. I couldn't believe that fate had once again sent me on a path that could only send my future to spiral downwards.

///

Plopping down onto my bed with a bottle of Jones Soda, I began to scroll through twitter. Pretty soon I came across a couple of tweets from some girls in my grade, trying to get people to follow some random account. Clicking on the tweet I could feel my hand begin to get sweatier and sweatier... this couldn't be happening. But oh lord, it was.

@cloverisbae: Hey guys! Go follow this account @asspan101 its all about that lame girl called Aspen... I think that's her name! OH WELL! Go follow it anyways cuz it's realllllyyyy funny! Lots of lols, Clover <3

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

No, this couldn't be happening.

I began to look at all the tweets on the account and just by reading the first three, I could feel tears beginning to gather in my eyes. My ears heated up as I kept reading. By the sixth tweet, I couldn't hold it in anymore. My face was too numb to feel the beads of salty water, rolling down my cheeks and onto my phone screen. How could anyone be so cruel? Was I that bad? Did people really think that badly of me?

@crackerjackharrison: I remember when Aspen had to present in front of the class during math class in freshman year, and she freaked out and started crying, what a loser.

@destinyisyours: Aspen's such a fucking loser, she should just go die.

@bryce19_37: Aspen cant even solve a kindergarten math problem, she's such a fuck up.

Sobbing, I sank to the floor. This couldn't be my life...

But it was.

///

Friday came all too soon. All throughout the week there had been rude notes passed to me in class, spray paint on my locker, and Ashton's crew had been giving me an even tougher time than usual.

On Wednesday, Calum shoved me into the lockers. My arm caught on one of the doors and the metal ended up slicing a good four inches of my arm, adding another scar to my already damaged limb. Nothing had gone well for the past four days, not even my schoolwork.

I could feel my body stiffen as the bell rang signalling the end of the day.

It was time for tutoring.

//Hey everybody! Sorry for not updating in a while, our school just came back from spring break and we wanted to spend some time with our families. But now we're back and ready to write more for you guys! We're sorry if this chapter was depressing, we know that many kids go through this in real life. The tough times will get better, we promise you. Much love xx <3 //