The Epitome of Seventh Grade

Aela slammed the door to her locker shut. She slumped against it, lips pressed in a tight, thin line. "Math is officially the worst subject in existence."

"It's not that bad." Mused the girl who leaned against the one next to Aela. She tossed a strand of black hair out of her eyes, hugging her books to her chest as she tightened her short and messy ponytail. Her gaze glittered with deviance. "Not like Language Arts."

"Excuuuuuse me, Angeline?" Aela faked a gasp, pressing her notebook to her chest. "That's like- no." She held a hand up, turning away. "Angeline Neri, don't ever say that in my presence again."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "You're being as dramatic as Thea. And, since we're on that note, don't ever call me Angeline. It's Angie."

"Got it, Angie."

Angie nodded in response, looking up as two dings of the bell echoed through the halls. Aela strained to not be pushed away by by the growing crowd. 

"Remember what I told you yesterday about exterior angles!"

**************

The words Math Tutor ran taunting circles in Aela's head. Math wasn't her best subject, she knew, but a tutor? No. Where would the time be to write after school if she was stuck in the library with some genius eighth grader?

She dragged herself towards a circular table in the corner of the white-painted cafeteria. Aela dropped her white and gray-striped lunch box on to the face of the wooden table, taking a seat next to a pretty, light auburn- haired girl. 

"Did you flunk a test again?"

Angie sharply nudged her arm. "Thea!"

She gave a small mew of pain, adjusting the neckline and sleeve of her floral blouse, arranging her necklace back in place. "Sorry!"

Aela buried her face in her arms, letting her hair fall over her forehead and cover her in a brown curtain. "Worse." she muttered.

Aela groaned in response when Angie asked what had happened. She drew out her words, half-replacing them with dramatic sobs. "Why is life doing this to me..."

Angie nudged her arm.

"Um... Aela?" She looked up. The boy who had spoken to her fiddled with the hem of his sleeve. "You're Aela Write... right?"

"Writ. Like written. But yes."

"Grammar Queen." Thea muttered. 

Aela whirled around to face her friend, shaking her head. "It's pronunciation, not grammar."

He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I'm Matthew. I'm in the Seminar class and was asked to help you. In Math. Which is kind of funny, because that's what my name is. Matthew Maddox, like Mathematics." His quiet chuckle faded at his quick explanation, leaving him flustered. His silvery brown eyes flitted between the three of them. 

"That's cool!" Angie offered with a nod and small smile.

Matthew looked grateful for her intervention, reaching into his pocket and thrusting a crumpled sticky note in Aela's direction.

"That's my number. In case you had questions."

Thea raised a brow, a grin plastering her face as he walked off. "Aela." she waited until her friend reluctantly looked up at her. Thea gave a knowing glance in Matthew's direction, unfolding the paper and pushing it towards her. The handwriting was small and neat; some of the letters connected, like a bridge between print and cursive. "I mean, come on... Look at the positive. A cute guy just gave you his number."

Aela rolled her eyes. "I prefer my characters. Like Kharis and Jesper and Kallan. Kharis is perfect. She's just... perfect." 

"Yes, I know. She's a beautiful teen assassin with a dark past and fire powers- I understand. But Aela, this is real life. And a cute guy just gave you his number."

"For math." Angie intervened. 

Thea brushed her comment aside, shrugging. She looked over in the direction Matthew had gone, catching a glimpse of his dark hair on the other side of the cafeteria. "Yeah, but still." 

"But still I'll have to do tutoring unless I want to do summer school. Or flunk seventh grade."

"I mean, I'd offer to flunk with you, but I kinda need good grades to be allowed to participate in the play next year. Theoria Trix- the lead. Alongside Julian." Thea touched the back of her hand to her forehead, then to her heart, gripping the pale fabric of her shirt before sighing. 

Angie scoffed as Thea mentioned her fellow actor. "Oh, stop fangirling."

"Our duet was legendary." She sighed, staring off into space and fluttering her thick eyelashes at her imaginary partner. Thea composed herself after a moment, meeting Aela's eyes. "And grades from this year carry into next year which determine placement for high school." She paused her rant, giving a solemn shake of her head. "I'm sorry, Aela. The Drama Club needs me."

"And the Contemporary Writing elective needs me."

"And you need to take this tutoring seriously if you don't want to have to go to the library and study with one of the teaching assistants every other day instead of your elective." Angie held up her hands. "I'm sorry, but it's true. Kharis, Jesper, and Kallan might have to wait a week or two until the finals."

"But the love pentagon and the murdering of royals-"

"Aela." Angie took in and exhaled a breath, gesturing for her friend to mimic her. Aela drew in a breath, letting it out in time. "Just a few weeks. Then Kharis, Jesper, and Kallan, then summer, then nothing to worry about."

She stared at Angie; the girl's blue eyes didn't leave Aela's, urging her to take the words to heart. 

"...Ok."

Thea clapped, pausing and looking around as eyes from tables around fell on to her. She offered a perfect, apologetic smile, leaving some people turning away, others smiling back and blushing. 

"Now, eat." Thea commanded, unzipping Aela's lunch bag and unpacking it for her. She glanced down at her rose-gold watch. When she looked up at Aela and Angie, she grinned. Her eyes sparkled at the memory of Matthew, giving Aela a knowing glance.

"We've got... ten minutes."

She popped the lid off one container, rolling her eyes at Thea darted forward and snagged a slice of strawberry, obviously unapologetic as she bit into it.

Maybe... the rest of the school wouldn't be torture.

Aela glanced over at Matthew; his hair was just visible over the other heads. She refolded the sticky note in a neat square, tucking it in the inside pocket of her sweatshirt. 

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, after all.