Chương 20: Exchanging Pointers

As the game went on, it quickly became clear that Olivia's team wasn't just bad—they were abysmal. She'd expected to be one of the worst in their class, but apparently, she'd managed to join up with the other two candidates. Luna fled away from the ball more often than not, while Miranda made the barest effort to participate only if the ball went directly toward her. They wouldn't be getting any wins, not that she'd expected any better. Still… I guess I really don't have to worry about dragging down my team.

A few more shots unceremoniously impacted the floor on their side before one came close to Luna. The girl turned her head away as she swung her arms, miraculously managing to hit the ball despite herself. The ball flew up and sideways toward Olivia's general direction. She moved to intercept it, pressing her wrists together in what seemed like the right position and swinging them upward. The contact stung her forearms, yet only managed to stop the ball's momentum and send it tumbling to the ground pitifully.

Sighing, Olivia bent down to scoop it up. This was about what she'd expected. Still. That didn't make it feel any less embarrassing. Forget scoring a point. I'll be happy if I can even get it over the net. The game continued as the scene replayed itself over and over. Olivia chased the ball around, both flying through the air and rolling across the ground. To her pleasant surprise, she actually did manage to get the ball over the net more than a few times.

Yet even with that small victory, the time to switch opponents came and went without a single team losing more than an accidental point to her own. That wasn't to say that it was a complete wash. Even over this brief period, she did feel herself improving. It was in small ways, like figuring out what part of her arms to hit with for the best results. She also figured out a relatively consistent way to get the ball over the net when serving, though that part she usually left to Luna.

As terrified as the flute was of the ball, letting her hit it on her own terms seemed like the best way of getting her involved. The period dragged on. Four out of five times, the ball would find some path to the ground once on Olivia's side. But that fifth time always evoked a small welling of pride from within her. It was the little things that kept her going. Then, it happened. She returned the ball, sending it sailing over the net and into the far corner of the court.

One of the opposing girls scrambled to reach it, but couldn't get there in time. It smacked into the floor with a satisfying thud. I… I did it! I scored a point! Olivia looked toward her teammates, a broad grin written plain across her face. Luna stared at her, the slightest hint of a smile beginning to touch her face as well. Miranda simply looked off to the side with obvious boredom. Yet her quiet mutter reached Olivia's ears.

"Tryhard." Olivia faltered, then sighed. Right. It's easy to forget how seriously people take their image in high school… Still, she wouldn't let that stop her. So what if she was trying to improve? That was, in her opinion, something to be encouraged. Heck, she wasn't even trying that hard. If she was, she'd be sprinting across the court for every single ball and running herself ragged. The sharp sound of a whistle interrupted their thrashing as Mr. Wolfe called out again.

"All right! If your team has the ball, stay where you are. If you don't, move to the next court!" Olivia's current opponents nodded to them before moving on. They were quickly replaced with another team—one composed of lithe, fit girls who looked like they belonged in jerseys rather than PE clothes. Her suspicions were only heightened when one casually lobbed the ball into the air, then smacked it over the net with her palm in a practiced movement.

Olivia scrambled, actually managing to not only hit the ball but get it over the net. She didn't even have time to celebrate. One of the girls by the net leapt upward, her palm descending upon the ball with a sharp slap. The ball spiked down onto the gym floor with the force of a small meteor.

"Nice, Candace!" Olivia simply stared at the ball as it began to slowly roll away. Her gaze slowly rose to look at the opposing team. Hoo, boy.

"David?" A boy raised his hand. Mr. McCullough ambled between the desks of his Algebra class as they chatted amongst each other, depositing a lined piece of paper marked with red ink in front of the boy.

"Alex?" He called out the next name over the din, already turning toward his next target as the previous one glanced down at the page. The boy shrugged and tucked it away. It was just homework, after all. Though homework is weighted a lot higher here than it was in college. A lot. I mean, half our grade is made up of this stuff? She shook her head. I guess that's kind of nice, since it's a big cushion against flunking the tests, but at the same time it means you really can't afford to ignore it.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The setup made her almost miss the exam-only grading that half her college classes had adopted. Sure, it was a bit stressful, having half of one's grade determined by a midterm and the other by the final. But it was also so liberating. It allowed her to prioritize and tailor her studying according to her own needs rather than slog through mountains of busywork for every class. Besides, she'd never had trouble with tests.

Not even at that level.

"Olivia?" She raised her own hand and was subsequently rewarded with a page of her own neatly penned math equations. The page was unblemished by ink except for a circled "100" at the top. That, and a line beneath her name. Dangit. I put the wrong last name, didn't I? She almost smacked herself in the forehead. It was a habit she'd been doing her best to overcome. But it wasn't so easy to set aside over a decade of "Olivia Wright" and step back into "Olivia Miller's" shoes. As she was becoming painfully aware of.

I'll get used to it eventually, I guess. She sighed with resignation. Well, I'd better. I don't know any quicker way to freak a boyfriend out than by referring to yourself with his last name. With a whole new fear unlocked for herself, Olivia began to tuck her homework away only to be interrupted by a tap on her shoulder.

"Hey.

'Scuze me." Turning around she came face to face with a broad shouldered boy with suntanned skin. He was large, clearly at least a head taller than Olivia even sitting down, and the red and white letterman jacket he wore made it clear he must've been a junior or senior at least. Close-cropped chestnut hair and a clean shaven chin gave him a rather neat appearance, and his eyes… They were hazel mottled with blue, the irises almost speckled in appearance. Just like George's. The boy smiled disarmingly.

"Hey. Mind if I compare answers with you? I got a couple wrong and I got no idea why." She realized she was staring and quickly averted her eyes.

"Oh! Yeah. Sure." Olivia passed over her homework, which was essentially an answer key for the assignment. The boy nodded gratefully.

"Great. Thanks." She returned the nod, then turned forward in her seat. She honestly expected that to be the end of it. But a minute or so later, she received another tap on the shoulder.

"Sorry… How did you get this one? I didn't even know where to start." Olivia turned around once again to peer at the question he indicated.

"Oh, was that one of the word problems?" He sighed.

"Yeah. Hate those." She nodded in commiseration as her eyes trailed up the page. A hastily scrawled "65" adorned the top, the number eliciting a pang of sympathy for the boy. That explained his desire to compare answers—and his age. Olivia wouldn't have been surprised if he failed this class before, or some other one earlier in his schooling. And if he's in sports, then failing isn't an option. Not a good one, at least. At least he's asking for help early rather than waiting until the last minute.

"Yeah. Those can be a bit tricky. Here, let me pull it up…" She fished out a textbook from beneath her chair and began flipping to the right page. Then, she tapped the question with one long finger.

"The biggest part of word problems is figuring out where the numbers they give you belong. You already have the tools and equations you need, you just have to slot them in right. What have we been working with all week?"

"Lines?" The boy asked. Olivia nodded.

"Right. Lines, and their intersections." Her finger moved to indicate another part of the problem.

"This question is asking about when one racecar would catch up to the other. Right? So, let's see if we can think about that in terms of intersecting lines…" She began breaking down the problem piece by piece, asking questions that guided the boy toward the answer. It took a little bit of time, especially once she discovered that he wasn't as confident with the different parts of a linear equation as she would have liked. But within a few minutes, they'd managed to work through the problem and reach its solution.

"Damn." The boy looked down at the paper.

"You're good at this."

"Eh." Olivia scratched her neck.

"I try." It was true. She was a pretty good teacher, now. But only because she'd gotten quite a lot of practice. The boy just shook his head.

"No, seriously. I've had tutors that made less sense than you… I'm Bryce, by the way." She returned the smile.

"Nice to meet you, Bryce. I'm Olivia." He gave her a lopsided grin before tapping the top corner of her homework.

"You sure about that? Seems like that's about the only question you got wrong here." Her smile faltered slightly.

"Y-yeah. Dumb mistake. Thankfully I didn't lose points for it." The lighthearted attempt to cover her momentary lapse didn't go unnoticed. Bryce eyed her with a mixture of curiosity and…concern, maybe? But if the boy had questions, he didn't voice them. Instead, he turned his attention back to their homework.

"So… Do you think you could help me with a few more of these? If you got stuff to do, that's fine too." Olivia glanced up at the clock. There were only a few more minutes left in class. She'd intended to get more homework done, but it rarely took her more than ten minutes or so anyway, so that could wait until tonight. So there should be time. But… … Again, what am I doing? The initial interaction she could pass off as simply having forgotten over the years.

But actively teaching someone else wasn't something she'd done in earnest until college. Even the help she'd already given was almost certainly another deviation. And yet… She looked at Bryce again and couldn't help but see echoes of her own son there. In his eyes, his hair, even the way his knee bounced incessantly as though barely containing his own boundless energy. Even though the boy was technically older than her, it was hard not to see him as a kid who just needed some help.

Help that she was more than capable of providing. … Dangit.

"Sure," she finally agreed.

"I don't mind. Is there one in particular you have in mind, or…?" Olivia turned around in her seat, settling in as they moved onto the next problem. One by one, they worked through the problems until the bell finally rang and dismissed them. Bryce thanked her, smiling brightly as he stood and shouldered his backpack. Olivia returned the smile. It's just a bit of math help. Nothing major. It… it'll probably be fine. The excuse felt thin, even to her. But what else was she supposed to do?

Just refuse to help a kid who directly asked for it? One that looked so similar to her own, no less? Slim chance of that. I'm a mother, dangit. I'm practically hardwired for this kind of thing. It's frustrating. Sighing to herself, she stood and headed for the door. There was only so much she could do to tamp down those maternal impulses before it made her feel like a terrible person. Hopefully she wasn't just deluding herself into believing it would be all right.