Because of You: Junping and Yuerong

Chapter Five: A Rider to the Rescue

What? Was he accusing me of cheating? How? I stared at him, but I also noticed that more students were staring into the classroom windows.

"Are you accusing me of cheating? Why do you think I cheated?"

"Junping, no one improves this much over a couple of tests. You went from getting average grades to getting some of the best grades in class. I called your home to ask about the tutor they hired. I wanted to get the name to recommend to other students, but your housekeeper said that they didn't hired a tutor."

I grimaced. Of course, the housekeeper answered. But he was still talking.

"You can't expect me to believe that you did this all on your own. You also didn't show all the work for the problems on the paper. Do you also expect me to believe that you just miraculously came up with these answers? You were also finished faster than you have ever been finished before. I don't know how you have done this, but you have to admit. It is suspicious." Then he added in a bitter tone, "Your connections won't get you out of this one."

Now, I was angry. "I didn't cheat. I studied, and I learned a different way to do problems because I don't understand your way."

He scoffed. "My way? I teach the way the text shows you how. It's a proven method. You are going to tell me that you developed new ways to do the problems all on your own with your average skills?" He seemed to now be amused by me.

I immediately stood up. My average skills? How can he assume this when I actually tried? But before I could speak, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

It was Yuerong. He had this look that I didn't recognize at the time. I've only seen that look on his face once since then. He was always a bit pale, but he was even paler that day. He had this laser focus as if he were about to charge. It's the look I imagined to be on the faces of the Riders of Rohan when they arrive at Gondor. Okay, so I'm LOTR geek. Sue me.

"Why don't you ask him to do a problem?" He spoke quietly, respectfully even.

"Yuerong. What are you doing here? Your class doesn't meet for another hour. Do not interfere. This isn't any of your business."

I wanted Yuerong to leave. I already have a bit of a problem rep at school. He was an academic star. For some reason, even in that situation, I felt protective of him. I didn't want any association with me to affect him. But when I was about to speak, the grip on my shoulder tightened, and I stopped. He still didn't look at me.

"It is my business when my friend is questioned for using my methods."

This statement took both me and the teacher by surprise. His friend? I didn't know what I felt at the moment. Relief? Joy? Gratitude? I do know that I had felt the heat of anger before he came in the room, but another kind of warmth filled me from that statement. I felt comforted and surrounded by that comfort; it soothed my mind. I felt the frown leaving my face.

I turned to look at the teacher once I realized I had been just staring at Yuerong's face this whole time.

He spoke with surprise and perhaps a bit of concern. "You know Junping? He's your friend? You taught him your methods.?"

"Yes. Ask him a question. Ask him now."

You would think that I'd be nervous, but I wasn't. I was pretty confident that I would know how to do any of the problems. I hadn't been confident in the class before even though I had acted like it, but the new methods just clicked for me.

I was also used to having to perform under pressure; in fact, my brothers often accused me of only performing under pressure and being lazy the rest of the time. I just learned how from living with our father; this teacher was nowhere near as scary as my father or as Cheng for that matter. But Yuerong didn't know this. He just acted like he completely believed I had this.

Wait. Did he? Did he really believe that? When I looked back at his face, I also noticed that there was a substantial sized crowd outside looking. I almost smiled, but I didn't want to provoke anyone. By anyone, I meant Yuerong. I didn't want him to think I wasn't taking this as seriously because he was. He was dead serious.

"Well . . ." the teacher was hesitating, but he was interrupted by commotion outside.

"What is going on here? Everyone should be on their way to the next class!" Oh shit. It was the principal.

"What is going on here Mr. Wu?" she asked. She was a woman who I've known to be fair but who also didn't take crap from anyone. Not the rich parents, not crazy teens, not teachers.

But Yeurong did not release his grip on my shoulder nor did his eyes ever leave the teacher's face. He spoke first.

"Mr. Wu is accusing Junping of cheating on his exam because he scored so high and used different methods. I'm here to say that I taught him those methods and to ask that Mr. Wu," he nearly hissed out the name, "give him a problem to solve right now."

His voice to her was a tinge less cold than it had been when talking to the teacher. I wished his grip on my shoulder was a tinge less tight. I could tell there was going to be a major bruise there.

"I don't think that is necessary," Mr. Wu said hastily.

What? Why is he backing down now? Is it the kids outside (some did sneak back after the principal walked in)? Is it the fact that the principal is here? Or is it because of the way short, pale, slightly chubby Yuerong looked at him?

"Oh, but I think it is." Yuerong said quietly like he was some 40-year-old prosecutor that had just caught a witness in a lie.

"You've accused him of cheating in front of so many people. How is he supposed to go back to being a student when everyone is going to be talking about him, including the other teachers? How is that fair? Ask him a question. Don't you want a question, Junping?"

Shoulder squeeze. Shit, it hurt. I needed to learn whatever grip exercises he was doing.

"Yes?" I sort of squeaked, but only because of the pain. Inside, I was more than ready.

Before Mr. Wu could say anything, the principal asked to see the test. Mr. Wu silently gave it to her. Everyone was quiet as she read it. She passed it back and looked at Mr. Wu without even giving us a glance.

"Give him a problem."

"What?" Mr. Wu started to sweat. "I don't understand . . ."

"I said give him a problem and make sure it's a problem that is similar to the ones on the test. Don't try to give him a problem with concepts you haven't covered."

Mr. Wu looked defeated for a minute, but then brightened a bit and said "Any question from the book will do as long as it is connected to chapter?"

"Yes."

Mr. Wu looked in the back of the book, found something, gave me the book and said, pointing, "Do number 3 here."

I took the book from his hand and looked. What an ass, I thought. He had picked a question that was from the additional problem sets in the back of the book for all the chapters. It was from the work we covered, but I knew that these were challenge problems, only assigned to the advanced students.

I almost smirked because Yuerong has been having me do these kinds of problems already. Instead, I walked to the front of the room. Now that Yuerong's hand was no longer gripping my shoulder, it started to cool off, get cold even. When I realized my shoulder was cool because it was damp, it dawned onto me that Yuerong's hands must have been sweating. Was he worried about me?

I turned to look at his face, and that was the moment it changed for me.

Looking back, I think that was the moment that I fell in love with him, but how was I to know? I was only seventeen. I just knew that I wanted to be by his side, to be called his friend forever. No one had looked at me with such complete belief before. He even gave a little "you can do it" nod.

I turned back to the board and began to fill it with figures. Now that my back was to everyone, I let the grin spread across my face.