The Nerd Boy

For some odd reason, I couldn’t properly think straight, my hands were sweating and clenched as I awaited the results that would determine a lot of things. Usually, I would try to seem as passive about these sorts of things, as it was just not in my character to care about grades and whatever.

But this time I did, I wanted to know that the work I did with Oscar really paid off and I wanted my parents to be proud of me, for once. They always act like I’m a disgrace to them, like there’s no possible hope for me to have a brighter future. They don’t understand I struggle a lot with English and I’m hoping this time, they’re happy with me.

God, I’m acting like such a sop. I would never ever mention this to anyone in real life, any kind of preconceptions they had about me would be absolutely shattered. So yes, I do care about education and a future that doesn’t involve working in a supermarket for the rest of my life. I can dream, right?

Besides, I don’t want to be extremely split up from Oscar. He’s going places, he’s got this whole amazing future just laying in wait for him and I want to be there with him, every step of the way. That’s why I was stressing so much, because not only did I want to make my parents proud, in some way I wanted to make Oscar proud too. Weird, maybe, but that’s how I felt.

Mr. Faye was going around the classroom handing each result to each student as different kinds of reactions spread out across the room. I waited impatiently for mine, tapping my foot and looking at the teacher as he approached my desk. I tried to guess from his expression whether it was good or not, and at first I feared the worse. Then, two seconds later, he smiled at me placing my result down in front of me.

“Congratulations, Francis. You’re passing!” he praised me as I stared back down at the letter in red writing, feeling like it was literally jumping out of its constricted white paper and at me.

My eyes grew wide and I couldn’t help the large smile that covered my face. How the hell was this even possible? I went from being a D-F student to getting a B. How the bloody fucking hell? I stood up quickly, the bell ringing as soon as I did so.

Without bothering to wait for the class to be properly dismissed, I sped out of the room, grabbing my stuff on the way. I dashed through the crowd that was beginning to merge, my eyes glancing around for that certain person in particular that I had to see. I spotted him immediately, coming out of a Math class with Kennedy in tow. He waved at me when he saw me, and in return I waved the sheet of paper.

“You – you are brilliant! You’ll never guess what happened, and it’s all thanks to you!” I brought him into a hug, as he suddenly went stiff, a confused expression on his face.

“Okay...what are you talking about exactly?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow as I let him out of my grip.

Kennedy wasn’t listening in on our conversation, and I felt that things were still a bit awkward. Instead, he was in a deep conversation with Carson. Maybe he really didn’t care about this anymore. I took the piece of paper with my result on it and nearly threw it in his face. He grabbed for it, noticing the grade with the same joyous reaction. He grinned at me, a grin that literally sent the butterflies in my stomach doing back flips all over the place. He kissed me on the cheek, both cheeks, and I felt like this couldn’t have gone any better.

“I’m so happy for you; didn’t I tell you that you wouldn’t get an F? And you got a B, that’s absolutely amazing,” he congratulated me, drawing attention to us by his outburst of happiness.

“So you didn’t fail it,” Kennedy noted, looking over Oscar’s shoulder at the result sheet, he smirked looking back at Carson, “Alright, I think it’s time for you to pay up now, Carson.”

My jaw dropped as I watched Carson dig out a £20 note from his pocket and hand it over to Kennedy with a disappointed look on his face. It only took both Oscar and I to catch on to what had just happened after that.

“I can’t believe you made a bet about whether I would pass or not,” I glared at the two of them, but neither of them faltered the slightest bit.

Kennedy was still smirking, as he looked at the money he had received and put it into his own pocket. “Well, it was just a bit of fun. But that’s not the end of it though; there was more to the bet than that, right?”

Carson glowered at him, “I hope you get eaten by a bunch of carnivorous ants.”

I decided not to question this, knowing that Kennedy’s bets were usually full on and they were always fulfilled, even if the participant was against it in the end. I was afraid to think what exactly he had in mind, poor Carson. I looked back over at Oscar, deciding to ignore those two weirdoes for a second.

“I’ll need to thank you somehow for passing me,” I mentioned.

A faint smile spread across his lips. “Kiss me and that can be your ‘thank you’.”

It’s not like I could say no to that. I nodded, as he wrapped his arms around my neck and I kissed him on the lips feeling like I was on top of the world.

~

I opened the door to our house, ready to tell my parents of the good news that had been floating in my head all day. It seemed that Oscar had really influenced me; I was even acting like a bit of a nerd. Oh dear. I went into our kitchen, leaving the results paper on the table as I searched the cupboards for something to eat. I was really famished, and my stomach had been making rumbling sounds the whole journey back home.

“What’s this?”

I dropped the food that was in my hands, catching it again before it fell to the ground. I knew it was my dad, but he had scared for creeping in on me like that. I turned around, noticing that he had the results paper in his hands and he was looking at it. His reaction was no different to how he usually treated me, he was indifferent, not caring about the fact that his son had tried so hard to gain a B grade.

“That’s my English result, we did a test a few days ago and Mr. Faye gave it back to me today,” I informed him.

He raised an eyebrow at me, looking back at the paper as he touched the top of it...before ripping it in half. I watched the two pieces fall to the ground in dismay, shocked that he was acting like this. Or maybe I shouldn’t be. He was never proud of anything I did. What was the point of working my fucking butt off if I was going to be treated this way every single time? Why even bother?

“You got a B? You got a B?!” he shouted at me and I just stared at him, deciding to stay as far back as possible.

“But Dad – a B is way above a C, it’s a pass and you know I’m dyslexic...”

He shook his head, pointing his finger at me. His face was suddenly a bright beetroot red, filled with anger.

“You are not dyslexic, Francis. This is all in your head just because you’re lazy, so you make up excuses like having dyslexia! Don’t make me laugh,” he spat.

This was ridiculous, when was he going to get it through his head that I was in fact dyslexic, and that wasn’t about to change soon. I thought that maybe this time he would be proud of me because I really tried. I did. I don’t understand what his problem is; I don’t understand him at all. But this was doing my head in; I had to escape this house because I didn’t even want to see his face. I shook my head grabbing my bag and storming past him.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he questioned.

I threw open the door, glaring back at him, “Out!” And with that I slammed the door shut behind me.

~

“Hey,” I smiled weakly at the boy behind the door, “Mind letting me in?”

Oscar didn’t question why I had come over; instead he nodded and opened the door a fraction to let me inside. As soon as I left my house, I went to the only place left that I would be able to forget about my Dad’s reaction, and that was Oscar’s house. I just let my legs go where they wanted and I ended up outside Oscar’s door. It was great to see him though; he was a perfect stress relief. His smile, not matter how small, managed to make things seem a lot better than they were.

It seemed though that he had realized that something was up, as he was eyeing me curiously. I decided to keep him out of the dark rather than let him coax it out of me later.

“My Dad didn’t exactly have a good reaction to the news about my grade,” I shrugged, “With him it’s either: A’s and A* or nothing.”

“I’m sorry, but you’re Dad sounds like an absolute dick.”

This made me laugh, and it was kind of what I wanted, just to be able to laugh with Oscar. He joined in with me and we were laughing in hallway, even though this wasn’t funny at all, and in fact it was true. My dad was a dick.

“Do you want to stay over tonight? I mean, I don’t know whether you’d want to go back because of what happened,” he offered me as I nodded.

“Thanks. That would be perfect.”