Page 9 of Gingers Can Do Maths

They're just boys, my brain keeps telling me, but it's a lie.

Bradley Boys aren't just boys, they're bluebloods with famous, drop-dead gorgeous supermodel mums and billionaire heir fathers. Even if they missed the looks gene, their money makes up for it twofold, with the best haircuts, skincare, and cologne with so many juicy pheromones I'm about to go feral. The backdrop of Bradley's gothic library with its intricately carved dark wood walls, and green laps with its warm lighting only adds to their appeal as I head towards the private study rooms.

I'm trying to be discreet, and quiet, but each click of my knee-high boots against the shiny wooden floors turns their heads one by one as I pass the long wooden tables.

Each face that pops up is uniquely handsome from the last, and the one that's staring at me now makes me nearly trip. He's South Asian, with glossy, wavy black hair that tumbles around his shoulders and steely grey eyes.

“Look,” he whispers to his blonde friend, and for a second my stomach sinks into my ass. “It's library Barbie. The curvy version.”

“Come to check us out, love?” Blondie coos, and at both boys appraising gazes I straighten and smile back.

Hortace would be so disappointed at my validation of their approval, but it's so nice. So different from the catty or even appraising compliments of'you look sooo stunning babe!From the girlies on my campus.

Love the girlies. But this is just...different.

“Maybe later,” I say over my shoulder as I click along.

“Promise?” Grey eyes asks, chewing on the tip of his pen. “I'll be waiting.”

I squeal internally. I know he's probably a fuck boy who'd compliment a roach with a big ass, but let me have it! Let me have this crumb of male attention, hollow or not.

But my giddiness needs to be fleeting. I know why I'm truly here. To study.

Bradley's maths department is so advanced, it's nearly on par with Ennox's.

Ennox.

The rejection letter I’d taped together sits heavily in my blazer pocket. I can’t bring myself to read it in its entirety. In fact, I haven’t opened it since I taped it three years ago. Just knowing its words altered my future with...altered my future, is painful enough. Yet, in a bizarre, punishing way, I carry it around as motivation. As a reminder to not fail again.

A reminder to not fuck up another future we,no,I can have.

I shake my head.Don't think about the past or a delusional future. Not now. Because if you do, you'll think about him.

Stay in the present.

Bradley, right.

Bradley has a killer maths department. So when they partnered with Hortace for tutoring sessions to periodically mingle the students on weekends, I jumped at the chance to get a free tutor.

I may have messed up my promise of attending Ennox to both... he who shall remain nameless and me, but I still have our, no, my dream university to think of, Presley. While I'd maintained a decent maths average, Presley University didn't acceptdecentapplicants. Graduation from Hortace is on the horizon and this is my final chance to improve my scores before it’s time for university applications.

So no distractions of boys are welcomed in my tutoring sessions. On my way in and out of the hundred-year-old campus, sure, I could window shop, but not during.

So what are the chances that my tutor is merely human? With acne-prone cheeks, hunched shoulders and braces? Judging from my brief tour from the on-campus bakery to the library, slim. Still, weren't maths geniuses usually average at best? And that's what I want, average at best in the looks department with a brain and teaching style out of this world.

As the study rooms come into view, and I zone in on room nine, I take a big breath, balancing the coffee holder, and adjusting my satchel before I politely knock on the heavy wooden door before turning the handle.

I can do this. Hortace may not have been Ennox, but the principles it instilled in me are invaluable. My confidence has soared, as have my coping skills with my stress and anxiety around new challenges.

I can do this.

I can get into my dream university without feeling like I'm drowning.

And this time, I’m not letting anyone’s words get to me along the way. I am who I am, sparkles, pastels and more.

I’m smart. It may take me longer, but I can learn concepts.

I can do anything.

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