Exponential Amounts of Fun /s

Cody trailed far behind me as I made my way towards the first empty table in the study area of the library. He looked so small, flanked by the tall bookshelves.

And he certainly stood out for being monochromatic in a row of colorful books.

I sat down at the farther end of the table and plopped my backpack beside me, trying to look as casual as I could. Butterflies flew rampant in my stomach and my mouth had gone so dry I was sure I’d be coughing out paper if I tried to speak.

I tried not to stare as he came over, but I didn’t want to take my eyes off him. He was short and slender, all the more accentuated by the tight jeans and thin shirt he wore. Only the hoodie hung off him loosely, with all of its chains jingling as he walked over.

He pulled the chair out far from the table and sat in it slowly, hugging his backpack.

“So,” I started. The word dragged out longer than our silence. “Which class did you need tutoring for?”

“A-Algebra 2,” he said. He hugged his backpack tighter.

I loved hearing his voice again.

“Which chapter are you on?”

“Five.”

“Ahhh, exponents, fun.”

The hint of a smile at the corner of his lips told me he caught my sarcasm. Seeing him make a different expression for the first time sent a rush of warmth through me.

"What part are you having trouble with?"

He didn't respond, instead just shrunk further down. The desk suddenly seemed so fascinating to him, and he couldn’t stop staring at it.

It gave me a moment to look at his eyes, over the top of his thick framed glasses. Although his bangs still obscured them a little, they were a beautiful deep blue. Expressive too, since I could see the combination of frustration, embarrassment, and sadness flickering across them.

I jumped in before he was forced to respond.

“You know what, exponents are hard, so let’s just start from the beginning.” I gestured to his backpack. “Can we use your textbook?”

Cody nodded, and slowly unwrapped his arms from around the black backpack. He unzipped it and pulled out the unfortunately bulky textbook.

I mean really, why do they have to be so huge? My history textbook is the same size, maybe a little smaller, and it’s a pain to carry around. Now imagine having six of these in one backpack. And then they wonder why we’ll all have back pain before we’re twenty.

But I digress.

I waited for him to open it to Chapter 5. As soon as he found the right page, he pulled his hands away like they had been burned. They disappeared under the table.

Even though I wanted to hold them so bad.

I’m usually not a nervous guy, right, but I had to wipe my sweaty hands off onto my jeans before reaching for the textbook. I don’t know if Cody noticed that the page shook a little when I turned it.

My heart was pounding so hard in my chest simply from being near him. I had so much nervous energy all of a sudden that I wanted to get up and run laps around the bookshelves.

But that would’ve looked weird.

So I just sat there and flipped one page after another, barely looking at the equations and the explanations. It’s not like I needed more than a cursory review, since my memory was oddly good for math. Just bad for everything else.

I felt Cody’s eyes watching my every move, almost as if he was fascinated by how quickly I turned the pages. It made me even more nervous, like I had to try to impress him or something.

It's like when a little kid is watching you, so you feel like you have to be a perfect role model.

And of course that's when I fumbled and failed to grip the next page, instead aimlessly groping at the corner of his textbooks with sweaty fingers. After three failed attempts, I drummed my fingers on the side of the table and said, “Oookay,” smoothing out the page I’d failed to turn and pretending this is where I’d meant to stop.

I doubt he believed me, but to his credit, he didn’t react.

“Let’s get started then,” I said, and proceeded to launch into a long-winded explanation that probably made little to no sense.

I can’t help rambling when I’m nervous. And just the sight of him sitting across from me, so close I can actually see his face clearly, makes me nervous.

Every time I paused to make room for him to ask any questions, all I got was a blank expression on his part.

I’d made it about halfway through the chapter -- which wasn’t short, by the way -- before realizing I should probably switch gears and try something else. I mean, I was as bad as a teacher at this rate.

“How about I walk you through some practice problems instead, and then I can see which parts you don’t understand?”

The panicked look on his face made me feel bad for even suggesting it.

“Or I’ll do a few problems and explain step by step as I work,” I said, ducking under the table to retrieve the backpack I’d chucked underneath. It had landed surprisingly close to his legs, and he’d tucked his feet under his chair as if to avoid it.

“Oops, sorry,” I said, dragging it back towards me. He didn’t move. He seemed to be trying to take up as little space as possible.

When I came back up, he was staring fixedly at the textbook.

It wasn’t until I’d pulled out my notebook, my history one, and flipped through it so fast that the study guide floated across the table to him, that he finally looked at something else.

His frown intensified so suddenly it was quite comical. It’s like someone suddenly grabbed his eyebrows and slanted them into a V shape. It almost didn’t fit with the rest of his face, which still looked soft underneath the harsh exterior.

When he spoke, his voice came out soft, so much so I barely heard him. "Wh-what did you come to the library for?" When I didn't respond, too stunned by the question, he clarified, "You went to the tutoring center for something right?"

"Oh, umm. Right."

How to pass it off as no big deal?

I didn't want to lie.

But I didn't want to tell the truth.

“I just needed a little refresh before my test next week,” was what I settled on. Best to leave out the fact that I’m in danger of failing.

I guess I still said too much, because his frown dropped and was replaced by a mixture of panic and regret that edged into his voice as he asked, “Then why are you helping me?”

Because I think I like you and I want to get to know you.

But I can’t say that.

“Math relaxes me, and I like helping people.” Two truths, just not the truth. “Besides, I still have time. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

I guess that seemed to calm him, because he didn’t question me further.

I went through a dozen practice problems, and it was around the halfway point that I saw the shift. He went from watching me with furrowed brows to asking questions. When I started asking him how to do it, he gave tentative, yet correct, answers for questions seven through ten, then confident answers for the last two questions.

We would’ve kept going, but the librarian kicked us out, since the school was closing.

Cody jammed his textbook into his backpack, mumbled a thanks, and left like his clothes were on fire. I watched him scurry out the open gate and disappear into the shadows around the sides.

And for the first time in two hours, my heartbeat finally started to slow down to its normal rate.

Damn. He’s really got a hold on me, and he doesn’t even know it yet.