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Adam didn’t know a lot about… anything, really. And the things he did know, well. As Chase liked to remind him, “even a child could do that”.
He didn’t do it… what was the word? Mali— Malish— Something. He didn’t mean to hurt Adam’s feelings. It was just a fact, like “Chase is smart” or “Bree is fast”.
Adam knew about facts. Opinions, too. That took a while to tell apart, but he got it.
“Adam is…” a lot of things. Strong, mostly. Not smart, the rest.
And Adam didn’t know what the fuck an imaginary number was supposed to be. How could a number not be real? It’s on the page!
He was also pretty sure Mr. Davenport lied about Adam’s math skills. How else did he end up in a class that he wasn’t prepared for?
He should go to Chase. Chase knew math. But Adam was already frustrated, and he didn’t want to hurt Chase by accident. He already wanted to punch something, and at this rate, if he got any more worked up, that something was going to be Chase, whether Adam actually wanted to punch him or not. Punching Chase was only funny when he didn’t get too hurt.
“Hey, honey!” Adam looked up as Tasha appeared, arms loaded with grocery bags, and somehow that was worse, because at least Chase could take a few hits. Tasha was soft and breakable.
Maybe he should take a break from the homework.
He plastered on a grin and got up to take the bags from her. He’d pack up his textbook and notebook and all the other shit that wasn’t helping him learn what imaginary numbers were later. “Hi, mom!”
“Thank you,” she sighed, relieved, and shook out her arms. “You should come grocery shopping with me more often. Might save me from getting more back pain.” Her easy smile was comforting. She was grateful for his help.
Adam returned the smile. “Sure, I don’t mind.” Adam started unpacking the bags, being extra careful with the eggs and bread so that he didn’t crush them.
“Oh, I’ve got that! You can get back to your homework.”
“No, it’s fine.” Adam tried to deflect, but against Tasha it was useless.
“Nonsense!” Tasha patted his arm, taking the fresh container of salt out of his hand. “I’ve got it from here. Thank you, though. Maybe once you’re done with your homework you can help me make dinner?”
Again, Adam didn’t know a lot about anything, but he did know a bribe when it was offered. Or maybe it was more of an offering to make him feel better about not being needed at that very moment.
Either way, he couldn’t exactly give up the way he wanted, not with Tasha in the room. He sat back down at the counter, going back over what he’d already read, hoping that maybe this time he’d understand what he was supposed to do with the fancy ‘i’.
“What are you working on?” Tasha asked, stacking Tupperware in the fridge.
Adam looked up. “Um. Imaginary numbers. I guess.”
Tasha frowned. “You ‘guess’?”
He shrugged. “I don’t really get it.”
She abandoned the groceries on the counter and peered over his shoulder. “Did you ask Chase? Or your father?”
Adam shook his head.
“What the…” She grabbed her purse and pulled out her reading glasses, looking at the textbook again. Her frown deepened. “Okay. I think I know what this is saying?” She paused. “No, wait. No, I don’t. Hold on. I’m going to grab my laptop, and we’re going to figure this out.”
She left and was back before Adam could protest. “It’s fine, I can figure it out,” he mumbled as she sat next to him.
“I’m sure you could, but it’d go a lot faster with help, yeah?” She smiled reassuringly. But it faded when Adam didn’t smile back. “Adam, it’s okay to ask for help.”
Adam’s pencil snapped in half. “Sorry,” he muttered, and wiped away the splinters. “I always need help, that’s the problem.”
She rubbed his shoulder soothingly. “That’s okay. Some people need help with some things but not others. It’s okay that you need help with school stuff. I know it can be embarrassing to ask—”
“Try ‘humiliating’,” Adam said. “Whenever I ask Chase for help, it’s always, ‘Shouldn’t you know how to do that by now?’ ‘What do you mean you don’t understand, I’ve explained it five times!’” Adam cut himself off.
Tasha nodded slowly. “Y’know, everyone needs help sometimes. Chase came to me the other day because he didn’t know how to flirt with a girl.” Adam snickered. “And you know what else? Chase doesn’t know what it’s like to not know something. He doesn’t know how to learn, so he doesn't know how to teach you in a way you’ll understand. That’s a him problem, not you.”
Adam didn’t know what to say.
“So, what do you say?” Tasha handed him a new pencil. “Let’s tackle this together, yeah?”
And slowly, painstakingly, over the next hour, Tasha taught herself and then Adam how imaginary numbers worked. He got through the worksheet without breaking his (fifth) pencil. And when Tasha checked it over with a proud smile, Adam couldn’t help but hug her.
“Thanks, Mom,” he whispered.
“Oh, of course, sweetheart. I love helping you kids out.” She hugged him back just as tight (or, as tight as she could). “All right. Homework’s been defeated. What should we make for dinner?”
Adam thought for a moment. “What about ‘pasketti?”
Tasha grinned. “Sounds perfect.”