Perfect love

Your Glasses

I finish the  test and slump back on my chair. What a horrible experience. How can people keep kids in a room for a full hour, under the pressure of smart kids flipping pages when I'm only in the second question? That may only be me. Yeah. But it's still a traumatising experience.

The bell rings barely after I've put my pen down. I jump out of my seat and dash outside. I feel like something's missing and then I remember. I feel way too light. My bag. I forgot my bag. I casually walk back into the class, hoping no-one noticed my embarrassing moment.

"Miss Nakamura."

I freeze as I pick up my bag and slowly turn around. The teacher is standing with her arms crossed, leaning against the table.

"Yeah...?" I ask, hoping she doesn't ask about the test.

"I'm worried about your grades. You are a very bright young girl, but either you don't want to put in the efforrt, or you don't care. So I've decided you'll have extra help, at least until your grade get  better, okay?" she says, turning around and rummaging through one of her cupboards.

"Mrs, I'm sure my grades are not that bad, nothing to worry about. I've just let them slip a bit," I try to convince her.

"Slip a bit?  You went from A- to Cs in five months. That's not a little slip. Here," she says,handing me a paper with a list of names, "these are the tutors available. I want you to go and ask if one of them could tutor you in advanced maths, understood?"

I nod and put the paper in my bag.

"Bye Mrs."

"Remember, I check with all of them. I'll know if any of them have you. Bye."

_____________________

"Damn it!" I mutter under my breath, "It's just a small slip, nothing else!"

I take out a crampled list of names from my bag and look at the first name.

Kyle Brown, 2B.

I make my way to his class and I catch a boy leaving. I grab his sleeve, making him turn to me. He has dark brown eyes and buzz-cut hair.

"Yeah?"

"Do you know where I could find Kyle Brown?" I ask.

"He's in the last class right down the hall."

"Okay, thank you," I smile.

___________

After six failed attempts to convince one of the boys in the list to tutor me in maths, I give up. I sit under a big oak and start plucking out the grass. I let out a frustrated growl  and look up. The branches are intricately woven together, the leaves making soft paterns. The wind blows and changes the tree's shape.

"Careful with the-!" I instinctively duck and an arrow dives into the tree, just a few centimeters higher than where my head was.

After the initial shock I jump to my feet and take the arrow out of the trunk. The three boys run towards me as I look at the arrow's head. It's a REAL arrow. The ones that kill. The sharp ones.

"What the fuck was this, dude?! You could've killed me!" I scream, waving the arrow in front of them.

"You did a pretty good job dodging that, though," the fair-skinned boy who warned me says.

"Oh God, you nearly gave me a heart attack," I say, a bit more calmed now.

"We're sorry. This guy here was about to shoot where he actually can shoot, but some other," he says, nudging the third boy, "pushed him."

Both of the culprits bow and apologize.

"We're very sorry!"

"It's okay, don't worry. Though I'm sure you could repay me someway," I smirk.

"Yeah! How could we help?"

"Can someone tutor me?" I ask, all my confidence gone and semi-depressed.

"With what?"

"Advanced maths."

"Nop."

"Aw hell no."

"I'm out."

I sink deeper into my depresion with every answer.

"You're not going to find a single soul at the Raimon that actually can, and wants, to explain advanced maths."

I sink to the floor and look up to them.

"But why do you need a tutor if you're in advanced maths? Isn't your group the ones that tutor rather than need one?" 

"Long story," I sigh.

_____________

After I leave the boys, I go for a walk around the school grounds, since classes haven't finished yet.

When the bell rings, I make my way to my class. As I start taking out all my books, I take out something that's not supposed to be there. And then I notice that those are not my books. I read the name on one of the books.

Jude Sharp.

I don't know a Jude Sharp that goes to the shool. I do know one though. The master game-maker. The midfield in the Inazuma Japan. The FFI winner.

Oh.

Fuck.

I look around and realize, for the first time in my life, that I actually go with some of them to school. I see Axel Blaze and Mark Evans casually talking near one of the windows. The national's team ace stricker and the national's team captain and goalkeeper.

I certainly have the worst luck ever. 

I try to put all back but something falls. I go to grab it when I realize what's fallen. Jude's glasses. 

"Can you give me back my glasses?" someone asks.

I look up to a pocker-faced Jude. His feline amber eyes emante power and strenth, and I instantly forget how to talk.

"My glasses," he says, streching his arm towards me, waiting for the glasses.

"Y-your glasses?"

Well, no, duh, he's asking for mine. God I'm stupid.

"Yeah"

"Come one class, settle down," the teacher says and Jude goes to his seat.

Oh, no. I still have his things.