Figuring You Out

Chapter Ten

"Ahh, Mr Chapman, can I borrow you for a second?" Mr Pope, tells rather than asks me as he walks by me in the corridor and then into the PE office, I barely have chance to say a catch up to Liam before I'm standing in the middle of his office. I watch awkwardly as he flicks through his stuffed notepad and brings out a piece of folded paper, "So, this," he begins and unfolds it handing it to me, "Is essentially your new timetable, mostly year eights on your free periods but then one year nine class on a Thursday, if that's alright?"

"Yeah, that fine, sir," I say, trying to figure out how the hell I'm going to fit this all in.

"Just one more thing before I let you go," he says, as I turn to leave.

"Sir?"

"You seem a little preoccupied, anything you want to chat about?" he asks, turning an apple over in his hand. I stutter as I contemplate telling him, he watches me and I opt out yet again. I saw the trust and liking in him, he favoured me that much I could tell and I didn't want to ruin that, ruin my chances of making it big in the sporting world.

"Nothing important, sir," I smile, he nods and I tuck the paper in my table in my blazer. I make my way outside and down to the grass where Liam and the rest of our group were.

"Ahh the star player has arrived," Bram teases from his seat on the bench, I take off the one strap my bag was secured on and flung it to his stomach, annoyingly he caught it with ease.

"Whatever, smart ass," I grumble, jumping up on the table, and taking one of the grapes on a box on the side, which I presume was one of the teams.

"What did he want anyway?" Liam asks, gesturing back to the building, barely tearing his eyes away from a homework he was scribbling down.

"He wants me to do some extra classes, well, help out with the younger years and stuff," I dismiss, waving it off, then it dawns on me, "What homework is that?"

"Maths catch up," he smirks, looking up, the realisation hits me and I groan getting the now rather crumpled sheet out of my bag and beginning to scribble some half witted equations out. At that very moment, the bell rings and we slump our way to the delights of Mr Fryday's maths classroom.

"Homework out on desk," he grumbles, Red is already sitting at the desk with a neat piece of paper filled with his curved handwriting. I slump next to him already flipping my phone under the desk to text Danvesh.

"Hey," I say, turning to make light conversation.

"Hey," he smiles, turning the page on the book he was immersed in, he shuts the book as Mr Fryday strolls around the classroom collecting homework, I slowly drag out my dog-eared impromptu markings, he smiles at the comparison and slides another sheet of paper out from under his.

"There's a few mistakes, thought it would be a bit noticeable if 30% became 100% overnight,"

"True," I laugh, "thanks, by the way,"

"No prob,"

Then I decide to do something incredibly stupid or brave, which one I can't quite decide yet. I turn my crumbled paper and write my number down sliding it to his side of the desk, he smirks and nods.

"Maths homework, you know," I say, trying to casually hide the fact I just gave a guy my freaking number. He looks at me for a moment and for an awful second I think he knows.

"Sure," he replies, I can't decide if his tone is sarcastic or what and I don't have the courage to face him so just write something off the board into my book. He does the same a few moments later and I dare a quick glance in his direction, his freckled face contrasted by his thick frames, that hide his caesarean eyes.

"Mr Chapman, eyes up," I sigh, as the usual jeers comes from the class, as I drag my eyes boredly up to Mr Fryday, I raise my eyebrows at him, "Lose the attitude,"

"Trying to impress his boyfriend," Jack jeers from the back of the classroom.

"Reeds enough, Chapman- last warning,"

"Fine," I mutter, slumping in my chair even more, whilst throwing my pencil to the other side of the table.

"Get out," Mr Fryday exasperates, I kick my chair out and pop open the door, leaving onto the corridor, which is where I see Mr Pope patrolling the corridor. I tip my head back sighing and scuffing my feet against the wall.

"What's happened?" he asks, I shrug, he sighs, "Oliver,"

"I talked back, he got pissed, I got sent out," I grit, he nods then proceeds to knock at the classroom door and retrieves with Mr Fryday.

"Apologise and you can go back in, ok?" Mr Pope bargains.

"Sorry," I grumble making eye contact trying to make my apology as sincere as humanly possible.

"Inside, Red will catch you up,"

I re enter the classroom to the usual eye brow raises and the occasional comment from the rest of the team before taking my seat.

"Hey, are you ok?" Red asks quietly, I don't respond but it is painfully clear in his lashed eyes he wants an honest answer.

"I don't know," I blurt out, in some form of a grunt like I'd been holding it in for so long.

"We can chat if you want," he says cautiously.

"Sure,"