Chapter 3

"I shall do no such thing!" Anderson thundered. "I must be even in my responsibility as School Prefect, and you, my friend, are being biased."

"Biased! Did you just hear yourself, Anderson? You're the one who's being biased here!" Harrison shot back.

Andy heaved out a heavy sigh, then he spoke more calmly. "Harrison, I understand that you have an immense dislike-"

"Hatred-" Harry corrected.

"Yes, a strong one, for bullies."

"Uh-huh," Harry nodded, "you're very correct."

"However-" Andy continued.

"Oh, here we go again-"

"You have got to understand that school laws shall, at no instance, be broken."

Harry arched an eyebrow as if to say, "seriously?"

"Come on, Anderson, you saw what happened back there. James deserved what he'd received and, in fact, I'm not sure I'd have done it any better than Thomas, if I were in his shoes."

Andy shaked his head in vehement disappointment.

"Let me ask you a question, Harry, if you were School Prefect, how would you have handled the situation?"

Harry sighed softly.

"No different from what you did, yesterday."

Andy arched a brow in bewilderment.

"But then, I would have sent him to the school's therapist to understand some of the difficulties Thomas was going through at home."

Andy wasn't surprised at his answer. With a boy from a home with a bully, maybe he could understand how it felt like. Anderson was known for making sensible decisions - he always handled things properly - by himself. But. . .he could simply make Harry's day by succumbing.

"So you want me to plead on Thomas' behalf to be reinstated back to Mcbornie Senior High from the expulsion?"

Harry smiled. He knew when Andy asked such questions, they were rhetorical; he'd obviously made his mind. Harry gave a warm smile.

"I owe you one-"

"You owe me a thousand!" Andy cut in, maintaining his no-nonsense face. Harry chuckled, brightly. "Now all I've got to do is write a few words and mail it to Mr. Sanderson."

"Whaaa!" Harry exclaimed as if Andy had just said the most ceremonially unclean word, wide-eyed. "Who does that in the twenty-first century?"

"Huh?" and then, it hit him. "Oh! No, no. Not what you're thinking. I meant mailing him, electronically - we've got e-mail, remember?"

"Phee-yoo!"

They both laughed, warmly, at this.

"It's okay, then. Thanks mate."

Andy waved it off, saying, "What are dudes for?"

Just then, as both boys were about to head for the door (they were, at the moment, at Anderson's home), a double-knock, held their feet.

"You're expecting someone?"

"No," he whispered, shaking his head. His father, of course, could not arrive by this time - it was past 4 p.m.

They walked up to the door, Anderson holding the knob and pulling it in. Voilà ! stood Joce in a pretty, pink sweatshirt, her hair packed in a pony tail. Her dimples were an extraordinary compliment to her beauty.

She stood there for over three seconds, staring at Anderson - eyes locked - that Harry had to break the silence. He faked a cough then said: "Oh, hi Jocelyn. I was even about taking my leave."

She acknowledged with a nod, "Hope I didn't interrupt your conversation-"

"Naw! It's alright."

"Howdy do, Joce," Andy finally said.

"Howdy do, too, Andy!"

Now is this not creepy? Harry was thinking.

"Bye, bloke." Harry had a wicked smile on, as he said those words, slowly.

Anderson felt embarrassed.

I'm such a mess! Look at those eyes, just like crystals! And - oh! - those rosy cheeks with its delicate dimples beside those perfectly curved lips that glowed so unusually. It even appears to be saying something, is it?: I LOVE YOU - wait, that doesn't sound right-

"Yo, Andy!" she was waving her hand. "Can you hear me?"

Anderson jerked back out of his thought.

"Oh, I'm sorry. . . I'm just. . .umm-"

"I understand," she said.

"You do?" he asked, not expecting that. He'd surely been BUSTED! now.

"Yeah, you're stressed out, maybe I can come over some other time." She was holding a Mathematics textbook to her chest.

Boy, look at those curves - wait, no way, I'm not going to fall into that again.

"Oh," he said, saying a quick prayer. "Thanks for the consideration. I'm not feeling too good."

Her smile faded into a countenance of deep concern.

Oh! Me and my big mouth!

"Oh, my," she placed a hand on her chest. "I'm terribly sorry. Can I get you a cup of coffee and some cookies. I know you love cookies, your mum made the-" she quickly stopped herself, "-oh, I'm sorry about-"

"No, no," he interjected, "it's nothing. You came for Maths?" He wanted to reduce the tension in the air.

"Yes, Andy, I'm really having a hard time in comprehending Algebra, and I thought, 'Hey there, Jocelyn, your nextdoor neighbour is practically a Maths Lord! So here I am, but I'd better leave you to-"

"No, no. I can help you with it."

"But I thought you-"

"It's okay," he said giving her a reassuring smile. "I've had a change of mind."

She smiled. She knew Andy was always willing to help, he'd never turned anyone down - not any she knew though - only procrastinated if his present circumstance did not permit.

"Thanks, Andy-" she threw her arms round his neck in a bearhug. "Wait here with this book," she pushed it in his arms, "while I get us some cookies, we can make coffee in your kitchen."

Before he could mutter, "Jack Robinson!" she was gone in a jiff.

The story of my life, he mused.

* * *

5x+3 = 15-80x

"Now Joce, there are different steps to solving this correctly, however, I'll teach you the easiest in all algorithm - funny thing is, that's the one I use most; the simplest method."

She nodded.

"Okay, I'm all ready."

"The first step is to picture the above as people-"

"As what?!" It's worse than I imagined, Maths is crazy!

"Yes Jocelyn; people. There are two groups here - the singles and the married."

He watched to see her reactions - satisfactory! - then he continued. "The numbers holding the 'x' are the married, while the single numbers are the?"

"Singles." She chuckled.

"Now, we are to sort the married ones to the L.H.S [Left Hand Side (of the '=')] and the single numbers to the R.H.S. Can you identify the married numbers?"

"Yes, they're 5x and -80x."

"Correct! Now we're going to have to move -80x across the equal-to sign. So, in the process of transferring -80x over, it becomes +80x. The signs always changes while crossing. So we have on the L.H.S:

"5x+80x."

"Yeah," she affirmed, jotting it down.

"Next, we identify the single numbers."

"Uh-huh; they're 3 and 15."

"Exactly!"

She chuckled again, childishly.

"You're impressive," he said.

"Thank you," she replied, curtly.

"Next, we get +3 to the R.H.S. So what does that make it?"

"I think it becomes 15+. . . no . . . 15-3, because the positive symbol with the 3 changed into a minus (negative)."

"Bravo!" he called out, with the voice of an archangel, accompanied by an applaud.

She stood up and raised both arms, feeling like Hercules in the Greek Mythology.

"So, that leaves us with this:

"5x+80x = 15-3.

"Then we solve for both side, individually. 5 added to 80 gives you what?"

"85-"

"Now, you drop your 'x' beside it. . . yes, exactly. 3 subtracted from 15 gives?"

She did a split-second calculation and said, "12!"

"Correct! So we have this:

"85x = 12

"Next, we divide both sides with the coefficient of x (that is, the number holding x)-"

"Which is 85, right?" she was already getting enthusiastic about Maths. Not so bad, after all.

"Yes. So that leaves us with this:

"85x/85 = 12/85

"85 divided by 85 gives you?"

"One."

"Yes. Now, note. 1 beside the 'x' is the same thing as just saying 'x'. So we have just x on the L.H.S. On the R.H.S, however, 12 cannot be divisible by 85, so we leave it that way as a proper fraction. X is, therefore, equal to 12/85:

"x=12/85

"Ta-da! We've finally found the x."

"Yeepeee!" Jocelyn's arm flunged on Anderson. Her chest pressed against his.

I cannot, for the life of me, believe this!

So he hung in the bearhug, vulnerably.