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"THE ANSWER IS NOT B, Luce, it's Krebs cycle – so it's A."
"Krebs... um..." Lucy studied the thick textbook in front of her, forehead resting heavily on her palm as she determinedly tried to understand the answer. "Because... it only produces one ATP per... acetyl CoA?"
"Yeah," Imogen sighed heavily from her seat at the small desk. "I'm bored. We've been doing this for hours."
Lucy glanced up from the textbook in her lap to peer at her new friend incredulously. The two girls had been studying in Lucy's room since school got out (at Lucy's insistence), one half-heartedly, and the other with furious intensity as both juniors had elected to take their SATs in a few months. Lucy was sitting cross-legged on her bed, textbook and an assortment of highlighted notebooks surrounding her. Her hair was pulled messily away from her face, and the thin lines of blue and red pen marks marred the entirety of her hands from her vigorous notetaking. Imogen, on the other hand, lounged lazily on the desk chair, leisurely flipping through a magazine she dug from her bag.
Imogen, it seemed, was naturally smart. She barely picked up a book, appeared disinterred in class, but still managed to have flawless grades. Just that day, on their surprise quiz, she hadn't dropped one mark. Lucy, on the other hand, had failed quite badly. It had been a long time since she had the capacity to participate in school, and study, and she was finding it immensely difficult to catch up to her peers.
She had, of course, spent the better half of the school year as the sole provider on shitty pay.
But now, she didn't have to work, and she could focus. Her teachers were kinder than she had expected – even her math teacher Mr. Winston (much to her surprise) – and had provided her resources to catch up. Finally, Lucy could focus on school, like her mother had always wanted, and graduate. Maybe she could even scrape by enough to go to college.
She was determined.
"It's only been two hours, Imogen." Lucy wasn't surprised at her friend's drifting focus. In the past week of getting to know her, she quickly became aware Imogen's attention couldn't be held for more than a few minutes. "I'm just getting it."
Imogen scoffed. "That's because you weren't focusing on the diagrams before."
"It's hard, Im, that's why."
"Not really," She haughtily snipped back, before a look of reflection slowly passed over her face. "...but, I guess it might be – uh – overwhelming?"
Lucy couldn't help the small smile that pulled on her lips. She had also learnt, very quickly, that Imogen was not very empathetic or considerate of others. She was very private, and kept her emotions closely locked within her. "It is." The Richardson girl confirmed, scribbling down (a presumably wrong) answer.
