“Here,” I say, sliding the workbook between us and then explain how to factor the equation by moving everything to one side of the equal sign.
He follows along, but after I solve forx,his eyes are glazed over in confusion.
“You seriously don’t remember any of this?”
“Don’t you go to college after next year?” Wes asks him from across the table.
“Yeah, so?”
“You’re going to get stuck in zero-level courses.”
“Are you serious?”
Wes nods at the same time as I say, “Yeah.”
He tosses his pencil and slouches in his chair.
“Maybe you should cut back on all the partying,” Wes teases.
“Not a chance, man.”
“Shut up,” Kevin barks at me as he spins around in his seat again, scraping the legs of his chair against the floor loudly.
“I wasn’t even talking just now.”
“Your lips are moving, aren’t they?
“Hey!” Mr. Garrison scolds, but no one pays attention to him when Kevin comes back with, “Why don’t you use your mouth for something besides talking?”
“What the hell is your problem?” Sebastian bites back in my defense.
Kevin sneers, “I hope she’s better at giving blow jobs than she is at killing herself.”
Before I can react, Sebastian erupts from his chair, launches toward Kevin, and punches him in the jaw. Everyone is on their feet and the room breaks into chaos. I watch in disbelief as the two of them scuffle on the floor, each one taking jabs at the other. Everything happens so fast. Mr. Garrison calls for help, and seconds later, a few nurses burst through the door.
Sebastian and Kevin are restrained, but they keep throwing insults back and forth at each other. I’m in too much shock to speak, but my wide eyes find the small trickle of blood coming from Sebastian’s nose as he’s dragged out of the room.
Chatter grows despite Mr. Garrison’s attempt to bring order back to the room.
“Seats! Now!” he demands in a harsh tone that gets everyone’s attention.
I sit as a wave of guilt rolls in. I can’t believe that Sebastian, of all people, stuck up for me the way he just did. They should be thanking him instead of punishing him.
The other kids keep looking my way. Some of them snicker while others stare with curiosity—or is it condemnation? It’s humiliating enough that they all know what I did, but to think that some of them view me as more pathetic because I failed is ... my god, there isn’t any way to describe how that makes me feel.
“Everyone needs to stop talking and get busy!”
As they all turn to their work, I keep my chin tucked. I don’t dare reach for my pencil, too fearful that any movement will draw attention back my way.
“I can’t believe he did that,” Wes whispers from across the table.
Max then switches her seat for the one next to mine that Sebastian was just sitting in. “Are you okay?”
I shrug and then pull my sleeve into the palm of my hand. She sees me covering my bandage.
“Kevin’s a punk. Everyone knows that.”
“Yeah, that guy’s an asshole,” Wes adds, but it doesn’t change the fact that he called me out in front of everyone. “He deserved to get punched in the face.”