Billy Carter

Chapter 5: Only of You

I don't know if Annabelle had been waiting for me to arrive at school, but she was the first person I met when I stepped foot inside the grounds.
"Good morning!" Annabelle waved cheerily and skipped over, leaving her friends Meredith and Rose at their lockers.
"Someone's chipper today," I told her with a smile.
"I can't help it, you make me happy," she told me, wrapping her arms around my neck and looking up at me. My own arms automatically wound around her waist until we were embracing with mere inches between our lips. The closeness made my heart start to thump excitedly, despite remembering I was supposed to talk to Ollie today. "So, have you decided what you're going to do with that tuition money?" she asked me, staring at my lips. I started to wish that she wasn't so goddamn beautiful. I thought I should probably stop holding her like I was, but it's a lot easier to do something in theory rather than practice.
"Yes, actually. It's a surprise though," I told her. I mean I had agreed to take her out on a date, but one date wouldn't hurt and it's not like one date would mean we were engaged or anything.
"Mm, I like surprises," Annabelle told me with a low, seductive tone. I couldn't help myself - I was being controlled by an organ completely different to my brain - and I kissed her. It didn't matter, not really - kissing only counts if you use tongue.
"I'm thinking Wednesday," I told Annabelle. She smiled dreamily. "After school, of course. I don't have work then."
"That works for me," she said. "Are you feeling better today? After the other night?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. A bit sore I guess, but I've just got a couple bruises and scratches, nothing serious-" I was interrupted by Harry, when he suddenly appeared and separated me and Annabelle.
"Leave room for Jesus, you two," he warned. "Mrs. Fredericks' looks like she's about to give you both detentions for inappropriate behaviour."
"What're we doing that's so bad?" I asked, sneaking a glance at Mrs. Fredericks. She was glaring at me.
"I don't think you're doing anything wrong but since her husband left her she's got it out for all the happy couples," Harry told us, rolling his eyes - then he frowned awkwardly when he realised what he'd just told us. "I probably shouldn't have told you that, so keep it to yourselves, would you?"
"Yeah, sure," Annabelle answered. I nodded in agreement.
"Great. I'll see you third lesson, Juniour." Harry pat me on the shoulder and walked away towards the staff room.
"Why's he call you Juniour?" Annabelle asked me.
"It's a Beatles song, called Bad Boy. It goes 'now juniour, behave yourself'," I explained.
"Oh, right - I know that song. It suits you, by the way," she told me with a cheeky grin. "Hey, Ollie!" Annabelle called, waving ahead at the one person I was really hoping to avoid. Ollie smiled when he saw her, but it faltered when he saw me. "Did you finish the P.E homework Mr. Kennedy gave us last Thursday? I got stuck on the last question."
Ollie walked over, avoiding my gaze when I tried to smile at him. I thought we'd agreed to stay friends? He and Annabelle started talking about class and I tried to shrug off the cold shoulder I was getting from him when I tried to join in with a witty quip regarding their P.E teacher's bad combover. I remembered Mum and Cynthia's advice though, and I decided I'd better take it the first chance I got. Once we talked it out and were on the same page everything would work out. Maybe he could give me advice on my sexuality dilemma. I mean, he knows what it's like and he always gives me really good advice.

#

For third period, as Harry had mentioned earlier, I had my Music Technology class. There were only a few other students in my class, but they're all in the year above and pains in the arse, so I tend to keep to myself. When class started Harry told us all that he wanted us to keep working on our music pieces (we had to record a two to three minute track and edit it so it sounded like a real, professional song, and then write a report on the process). I was about to start working on it when he pulled me aside - well, out of the classroom actually.
"What's going on? Am I in trouble? Because I didn't do anything!" I argued, automatically starting to defend myself.
"Just relax, you aren't in trouble Bill," Harry told me, laughing. "Listen, you remember that test we did on Friday?" he asked.
"Yeah... Wait, did I fail it? You said it wouldn't affect my grades!"
"No, no, your grades are safe... So far," he assured me. Kinda. "Listen, I might have told a little white lie." He looked at me apologetically.
"Huh? What are you on about?" I asked suspiciously.
"Well, it wasn't a test to grade the school. Look, I know you aren't a very good student, and you're pretty much failing nearly every subject, but I know you outside of school too. You're a hard worker, and I can see that as much as you try to shrug off your bad grades you're also actually working really hard to try and do better. You aren't failing because you don't put the effort in - well, a little bit - shit, it's hard to explain," he sighed and started again. "I think you've seen you aren't doing well, you've tried to rectify it only to see that it didn't make a difference, so now you have an attitude of 'fuck it, why bother trying when I'm going to fail no matter what?' Is that accurate?"
"Well, yes," I admitted. "But it's so frustrating! No matter how hard I try, I can't get my grades to improve. After a while it becomes kinda - what's the opposite of 'motivational'?" I asked.
"I understand what you mean Billy, so I did something that I thought might help. I see you struggling in a similar way to how my older brother struggled in high school. So, after we did that test I emailed the results to a specialist. After having a look at your results she's decided to come to school to test you herself - she's actually a professional, and I just got those tests off the internet, so I'm not sure how accurate they are. Anyway, I can't make you take the test, but I think it might shine a little light on your academic performance and point us in the right direction for increasing your grades. What do you think?"
"Well, what do you think's wrong with me? Am I that dumb you want to have me tested?" I asked, feeling awful at the idea that Harry would think so poorly of me. Teacher or not I really look up to Harry and I respect his opinion.
"William, I don't think you're dumb at all! Who's telling you that? Because it's not true, you're one of the brightest young men I know. My older brother had horrible grades until he was about your age, no matter how hard he tried. I was three years below him in school and my work was better quality. My parents tried everything to help him improve his grades and nothing was working so they had him tested to see if it was something amiss in the way his brain functions, and they found out he was dyslexic. After that was discovered he found a lot of techniques to help him out and within the year he was top of the class. He graduated just short of valedictorian, was accepted into Cambridge and now he's a partner of a very successful legal firm here in London. I however have no learning disabilities, didn't come anywhere close to being valedictorian and work a highly demanding job for just over minimum wage. Don't get me, wrong, I love teaching, but when I was younger I thought I'd at least be married by now, and the only woman I'm interested in is married to a complete douchebag who doesn't deserve her," he said bitterly.
"Maybe she'd be open to an affair," I said drily.
"Sorry. Overshare?" Harry asked.
"Nah. Like you said, we knew each other outside of school long before we knew each other in it. And hey, maybe she really would go for it."
"I don't know. She seems happy enough. She's got a kid to think about too."
"Oh, yeah? How old?"
"About your age. Don't know how he'd feel about me and his Mum though."
"Do you get along?"
"Yeah, we get along great."
"Does he like his dad?"
"Yeah. I'm pretty sure."
"Well hey, he could be all for it, you never know. Sometimes I wish you were my dad - or step-dad, I mean," I told him.
"Really?"
I shrugged. "Yeah. I mean you're practically family anyway, only unlike Dad you can keep a job, you aren't a drunk, and you don't have a shitload of debt. You'd probably make a better husband than Dad, too."
"You think?"
"Yeah."
"Hey, we've gotten off track."
"A bit. Look, I'll take your test, as long as it doesn't cost my parents anything."
"It's free."
"Brilliant."
"So you're not mad at me for lying?"
"Not really. You could've just told me what it was for though."
"Would you have taken the test though?"
"... No. Probably not," I admitted.
Harry took me to the empty classroom the specialist he'd mentioned was waiting for me in. He left to keep teaching the rest of the class while Mrs. Calm-and-friendly tested me for stupid, or something. We actually did some of the stuff I'd done with Harry on Friday.
After an hour of testing and questions she was fairly blunt with me, which I appreciate in the long run.
"Well, William; I knew within the first two minutes that you were dyslexic, and the last fifty-eight just proved me undeniably right over and over," she said with a warm smile. I didn't know if I should be offended or not, so I let it go.
"Oh... Is that bad?" I asked. Her smile broadened and she shook her head.
"Not at all. The hardest part is over now - with the tools I'll give you you will be able to manage just fine. You'll likely still be a little slower at reading and you'll likely still misspell words, but with time, patience and some hard work I see no reason why your grades shouldn't rise dramatically by the end of the year - and over time you'll get better and better. Don't think of it like a handicap, dear. All we need to do is alter slightly the way you learn."
"Alright. How? Is this gonna cost money?"