The morning starts like it usually does. Mr. Jeffries wakes up complaining about his back and his job as he flips through the different news stations as he's lounging in the living room. Trevor rushes back and forth from the upstairs to the downstairs looking for things for his project as Mrs. Jeffries juggles with helping Trevor find the finishing touches to his project, making breakfast for everyone, and taking care of Savanna having a mini meltdown.

I'm just in the middle of it all, eating a stale poptart with my rugged backpack hanging off my back.

Soon enough Mrs. Jeffries gets Savanna to calm down with a package of rainbow Goldfish. She also finishes making French toast and scrambled eggs for Trevor and her husband while tying Trevor's tie he's supposed to wear during his presentation. Then Mrs. Jeffries, Trevor, and I get into the car and leave.

The only thing that changes is the fact that we woke up a half hour earlier and arrive to school when all the nerds get here. It works out for Trevor though, because he gets to put all his posters in one of his teacher's classroom and get situated.

I, on the other hand, am not glad we got to school forty-five minutes early. I could be sleeping right now.

Nevertheless, I show up in the office and go straight back to Ms. Müller's office like she said. It's empty when I walk in. I shut the door behind me, it giving a soft click, and take a seat in one of the chairs by the desk in the corner.

I get situated and look around the room, bored. I've never actually sat in this spot before since I've always sat at Ms. Müller's desk across from her. Sitting at this desk feels different.

To be honest, I expected Keegan to already be in the room. He just seems like the kind of kid who shows up to everything at least ten minutes early with his teeth freshly brushed and his hands freshly moisturized. His absence, like his smile from the other day, catches me off guard.

I don't sit alone in silence for too long before the door suddenly swings wide open, a disheveled-looking Keegan in the doorway. His hair is all over  sticking up in different places, his backpack is hanging off his left shoulder, almost slipping off, and his letterman jacket is haphazardly pulled over a black t-shirt with the school's name written in bold red letters over a white outline of a basketball. A duffle bag is slung over the same shoulder his backpack is hanging from. Keegan shuts the door behind him, trips on the corner of it, and catches himself on Ms. Müller's desk.

I stare at him.

He looks up. His lips spread into a bright smile and he laughs, hiding his face in his shoulder.

I don't know what to do—I didn't expect that entrance. I lean on the desk and prop my elbow on the surface, my chin resting on my hand. Let's just get this over with.

Keegan straightens and sets his bags on the ground next to his chair across from me. He's still chuckling at himself under his breath as he takes a seat.

"Hello hello hello," Keegan greets me, shifting in his seat and interlacing his fingers together on the table in front of him.

I blink, and when he smiles at me slightly awkwardly, I realize he's waiting for me to respond. I nod in acknowledgement.

Keegan lets out a breath. "Not much of a talker? That's fine, I talk enough for the both of us." He lets out a short laugh and leans back in his chair, scratching the back of his neck. He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue, smoothing out a dimple. He then shoots his hand forward. It's such a sudden and quick movement that I flinch away slightly.

"I'm Keegan, by the way."

I don't take his hand. I just lean back in my chair and look down at my shoes lightly tapping the legs of the desk. I'd actually rather be in class right now than sitting in this suffocating room with my polar opposite grinning at me.

Keegan awkwardly retracts his hand and lets it fall in his lap. He laughs, uncomfortable. "So, you want to get started?"

No, I answer in my head, but I peel my backpack off my back and set it in front of me anyways. I rummage through its contents and pull out a dented folder with a few papers poking out of the sides. I then slide my backpack to the ground.

Keegan's eyes are immediately drawn to the work sheet in front of me. He places his fingers on it and turns it around for him to read. Sitting on the edge of his chair, he arches over the paper. He's way too close to me for my personal comfort, so I scoot my chair back a bit.

He glances at me. I notice his eye color at the close proximity. Light brown. Almost honey.

"What class is this for?" He asks, his gaze returning to the page as he sits back against the back of his chair.

I go to talk, but my voice cracks from not talking all morning. I clear my throat and try again. "Geometry."

Keegan nods. "Right." He leans over and starts pulling various utensils from his backpack—a fancy calculator, a blank lined piece of paper, and two pencils. He slides it all over to me, save for one pencil.

"Do you remember anything about the lesson?" He asks.

I curl my bottom lip in and bite down on it softly. "Not really." I don't tell him that I technically didn't even hear the lesson since Algebra is usually when I take my naps.

Keegan waves his hand in front of his face animatedly. "That's fine, it's cool. I think I remember this lesson, anyways—but bare with me, it's been a while since I've taken geometry." He smirks.

I hold back an eye-roll at his bragging. I know I'm behind, but he makes it sound like I'm at the kindergarten level and he's above a college level.

"I'm not dumb," I say, watching Keegan as his eyes widen and he starts waving his hands in front of him even more.

"No, no no no," he says quickly. "I know you're not dumb. I was just letting you know that I might not remember all of the stuff taught during geometry since it's been a good few years."

I study him for a moment, then look down at my paper while shaking my head. "Whatever. Let's just get this over with."

Keegan sighs. "Yeah, okay." He leans forward again, so I lean back. He doesn't notice and goes to to point certain things out to me that just sounds like a bunch of gibberish. He talks about theorems and proofs, and it just makes my head want to throw up.

Okay, so maybe I am dumb. I just didn't want Mr. I-Took-Geometry-When-I-Was-Five to think he's better than me. Because he's not. He just has an easier life, so he has less to worry about and more to care about, which makes people like him think he's above everyone else.

Keegan is in the middle of showing me an example problem when he suddenly stops and drops his pencil. He looks up at me and purses his lips.

"You're not getting it, are you?"

I roll my eyes. "I am."

Keegan hesitates, then picks up his pencil and scribbles down a problem. He draws a triangle, gives the degree of one angle and the length of another, and slides the paper to me. He taps the triangle with the end of his pencil. "Use the trigonometric ratios to find the length of the side opposite of the ninety degree angle."

I don't move.

Keegan raises his brow. "Go ahead."

"Fine," I snap, crossing my arms tightly against my chest. "I don't get it."

I'm ready for Keegan's rebuttal, but he just smiles. It's identical to the one he flashed me in the hall. "That's okay, I'll just explain it slower."

He goes on to explain everything again. I still don't listen, but I can tell he's genuinely trying to teach me the lesson. He pauses after every step to ask me if I follow before moving on. I'm not following, but I still lead him to believe I am.

He finishes the problem and circles the answer. Keegan smiles again, his teeth and dimples showing. "There. Now do you think you could do it by yourself?"

The bell overhead rings. Saved by the bell.

I slide my homework into my backpack and sling it over my shoulder.

"So, do you?" Keegan repeats, packing up as well.

I ignore his question and step to the door.

As I'm walking out, I hear Keegan call after me, "See you around, Ellis!"