Chapter Text
“Dude, seriously?” Travis said, raising his voice over the loud bustling of the school cafeteria.
“Urgh, yeah! And Ms. Green won’t get off my ass about it.” Connor groaned as he buried his head in his arms on the table mournfully. Travis rolled his eyes and half-heartedly patted Connors back.
The two brothers had been lazing around in the cafeteria, talking back and forth while poking suspiciously at the provided lunch. For the past few months, Connor Stoll’s grades had been lowering more and more. Whether it be from missing homework, absences, or just horrible answers on tests, he’d been failing nearly all of his classes. Honestly, if you’d asked him, Connor couldn’t care less. Grades meant nothing to him, but he couldn’t say the same for his mother.
“Come on Connor, It can’t be that hard. Study a little, pay attention in class and you’re basically golden.” Travis muttered.
“You know it’s not that easy for me.” Connor’s voice was muffled by his arms. “And besides,” He continued, bringing his head up, “We’re already in the second semester, there’s no point in changing my grades now. The damage’s already been done,” Connor sighed dejectedly.
The two stayed silent for a second, letting the noise of other highschoolers fill the space.
“...You know if you get another F they’ll call mom, right?”
“What?!” Connor leaped from his seat.
Connor's face fell into an expression of dread. Last Friday, he’d taken his most recent math test, one he most definitely failed. He had probably written random numbers for half of them, and ‘I dunno’ for the rest. He was doomed.
“...Yeah? I mean, What'd you think was gonna happen, they weren’t gonna let it slide.” Travis raised his brow at him.
“Well, yeah, obviously, but I didn’t realize they had a counter! I thought I’d be good for another couple months!” Connor shouted.
“This is why I keep telling you, you have four F’s already, and three D’s, you seriously need to up your game. You’re in tenth grade, colleges will actually start paying attention to this shit now.”
“Fuck college!” Connor yelled. “If it’s as hard as this then I don’t wanna go!” Connor returned to his sorrowful moaning into the table as Travis tapped his fingers on the surface, thinking of a solution.
Connor knew what was coming. His mom would probably send him to summer school, or take away his gaming equipment in exchange for books and extra homework, or even worse, tell his dad, and poor, poor Connor would have to watch as his father shook his head in disappointment. His dad was his role model, probably one of the coolest guys he knew (besides Travis and a couple of Connor’s friends) and pulled some of the best pranks in history. His dad was the last guy he’d ever want to disappoint. And- oh god, what if she stops allowing him to visit his dad on the weekends in favor of studying? Nevermind, that option was definitely the worst.
“Ugh- dude, look. It’s not as bad as you think. Just-” Travis was cut off by the bell, “...nevermind.”
“And I’m getting my math test back today! I’m dead.” Connor cried.
“I mean, I don’t know what to tell you man. You did this to yourself.”
Connor heaved one last sigh before getting up to walk to his next class. The second he returned from school today, everything would be over.
* * *
“Connor?”
He heard a familiar voice call from the classroom door. It was Ms. Green, the ninth grade counselor.
Today had been what he’d expected. He’d received an F on his math test, the last thing he needed for the school to send a call back home to his mom.
He looked back to her, recognizing her straight brunette hair and tan skin, as well as her lanyard stating her role as counselor.
He slowly backed away from his desk, and approached her, and together the two walked down the hallway to her office. On the way there, Ms. Green started saying the generic teacher shit “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble” blah blah and the whole spiel. Connor had probably heard it a million times by now from all the times he’d been caught pulling pranks on other students who couldn’t learn to take a joke.
By the time they’d reached her office and sat down, Connor accepted his fate.
“So… Mr. Campbell told me about one of your recent grades… and-”
“I know.” Connor interrupted, “I have five F’s, and now you’re gonna have to call my
Mom.”
Ms. Green nodded slowly, “Yes, well, I’ve already called her.”
Connor was internally sighing, preparing for her to break the news of whatever
punishment he was set to receive.
“And we decided together, that it would be best if we assigned you a tutor.”
A tutor? Well, it wasn’t the worst. Any option that would keep his dad from knowing. But still, it sucked. It meant less track practice, and more time wasted talking to some random kid he barely knew. If Connor was lucky, maybe it’d be a cute girl or something, but then again, if he was dumb enough to score five F’s in a row, he doubted he’d have a chance with her.
That’s when he heard the door open.
“Ah, Malcolm Pace! You’re right on time.”
Connor whipped his head around. Standing in the doorway, a thin boy stood, with pale curly blonde hair and a pair of thick glasses that looked straight out of a movie. Connor wouldn’t be surprised if Malcolm had his lunch money stolen on the daily and was shoved in lockers by bullies.
“Malcolm?” Connor was shocked as Malcolm took a seat next to him.
“Uhm…Yes?” Malcolm mumbled back.
Connor and Malcolm hardly knew each other. To Connor, Malcolm was the nerdy kid who sat a couple seats away from him in math class. He was the one who always raised his hand, who turned his homework in on time, the quiet kid but also somehow the goody-two-shoes. Connor once tried to play a prank on him, before realizing he knew nothing about this kid, and thus couldn’t prank him on anything good.
Ms. Green cleared her throat to get the boy's attention, “Ahem, well, yes. Malcolm here will be your tutor for the time being.”
“Wait, I am?” Malcolm asked.
Ms. Green nodded. “Yes, you’re most suitable. I’ve already discussed this with Mr. Campbell. He said that if you agree to do it, he’ll give you extra credit in class, although, I don’t know if you’ll need it knowing your grades.” Ms. Green chuckled. Neither of them laughed.
“Oh, uhm, so if that’s okay with you Malcolm, you two can exchange information and meet up, let's say… two to three times a week?”
Two to three times a week?! If Connor wasn’t upset before, he definitely was now.
“W-well… If it’s for the extra credit…” Malcolm stuttered.
“Great!” Ms. Green clapped her hands together, “So it’s decided.”
“Hold on! What about me? Why don’t I get a say in this!?” Connor objected. Ms. Green shifted her gaze over to him.
“Well Connor, I don’t trust you to make good decisions about your time catching up with your grades, now if you’re done with your tantrum, you two are excused.”
Ms. Green shuffled them out of her office back into the hallway, where Malcolm and Connor awkwardly stood.
“So uh… your number?” Malcolm looked over at him.
“Oh- shit, right-”
The boys exchanged numbers, before walking side-by-side back into their math classroom, which was a few minutes away, piling more embarrassment onto them as they quietly walked.
* * *
The rest of the day felt like forever, but finally, Connor had returned home and was laying back-down on the fuzzy carpeted floor of his room. He stared up at the ceiling fan, watching its blades spin round and round. Imagine being a fucking ceiling fan. Not having to worry about grades and your parents. Lucky.
Connor stayed like that for a few more minutes before his phone buzzed, and he lazily reached over and grabbed it. Connor was confused to see a text from Marco Polo before he realized the ‘MP’ stood for Malcolm Pace. He opened his phone.
Today 4:13 PM
MP : Hey, what days are you available for tutoring?
You: uh idk prolly like monday wesnday and thursday
MP : Alright, can we meet up on those days then next week?
You: yea
MP : Okay, see you then.
You: see u
With a sigh, he turned off his phone and rolled into his bed.
“It could’ve been a lot worse.” God, he could already hear Travis’s voice in his head. It could be a whole lot fucking better too. Now he was stuck with some nerdy kid he barely knew, and would have to listen to his nagging voice for the next few months.
Connor’s life sucked.