Tutor (Lab Rats Fanfiction)

Chapter 3 Space Cadet

AN: Hi guys! I'm back with chapter 3! I will update every Tuesday, starting now! Of course, if something tragic happens to me (which rarely ever happens) I might need to postpone an update. I will try my hardest to get Chapter 14 of Bionic Stolen up on FRIDAY, so stay tuned! Thanks to all my readers who've been so patient with me!

Any last minute guesses about our mystery guy? Remember, his last name is Davenport and he was 'taking notes' in class. Seems pretty obvious.

Last announcement: I am now on FanFiction! I'm still ungerlover, and I am going post Bionic Stolen and Tutor there! My profile is a little different there because I was able to add some more stuff. Wattpad has a word limit, which I already reached. On with the story!

Disclaimer: I do not own Lab Rats.

"My name is Adam Davenport, but you can call me 'Space Cadet.'"

He was a tall guy with dark brown or black hair. I can't really tell which. He had a goofy grin plastered across his face, and he looked too old to be in this class. He looked like he could've been a senior here! Now that I'm sitting here next to him, I can tell he want taking notes. He was scribbling a picture of a dinosaur on the back if his worksheet.

Okay then.

"Why should I call you 'Space Cadet?'" I asked him. I've only known him for a minute, and he already confuses me!

"Because, my last mission was in space," he said in a 'duh' tone with a blank expression.

"What?"

"OH! Uh, I-I mean, um, my, uh, VIDEO GAME! Yeah, my new video game called 'Space Mission!' It's really fun!"

He then sang to himself, "Saved it!"

Whatever.

"Okay, class. Today, we will be studying propaganda in everyday life," Mrs. Bowers said. Half the class groaned, but I got a bit excited.

I know I said I hated school, but that's only the part that deals with the bullies. I love to learn, even though it's hard with my dyslexia. At my last school, everybody knew about it, and they bullied me. Their taunting voices still rang through my head at night.

What kind of idiot can't tell right from left?

You'll be lucky to make it out of high school alive.

What a failure.

Who could ever be interested in someone who can't read the word 'bed' without struggling?

I shuddered at the memory. Before we moved here, I made myself promise to not tell anyone but the teachers about my dyslexia. It would only make matters worse for myself.

"Miss Blake, could you please read paragraph three under 'propaganda?'"

Oh, crap.

"Um, sure."

I made it through the first sentence without any problems. However, when I got to the second sentence, I was stuttering and struggling to read the words. I heard some murmuring behind me, but I ignored it.

By the time I finished, everyone in the room, except for Adam, was talking about me and sending sneers in my direction. Adam was busy shading in the dinosaur he drew on the worksheet. I caught some girls looking back and forth between me and their group and chatting in between. They were all wearing blue cheer leading uniforms.

Oh, joy! The barbie dolls think I'm an idiot!

"Ahem! Class, please settle down so we may continue our lesson," Mrs. Bowers spoke to the class.