maths.

I just want to talk about this one time I was is maths. I used to sit in the back left hand corner, out of the way. I now sit at the front dead centre where everyone can see me. I don’t really go to maths anymore.

Any way, back to the left hand corner. That day was colossally shit. The morning wasn’t great, it was just another one of those days where everything was subtly crashing down around me in the plain white room that is my maths classroom. For a while there was this guy in sixth form who came into our maths and was like a teachers assistant, helping us with maths and all the jazz. You could tell he didn’t really want to be there, but we all got that which I think made it more bearable for him. He was one of those shy, funny guys. He acknowledged me but never asked why I was sat on my own, or suggested I sat with someone else for a change. I really appreciated that. The teacher would always make me move, it’s not like he understood what’s up with me but he’s also kind of insensitive too.

So this particular day, it was probably a day after a night of a lot of crying in the middle of the night (9/10 days are that). I didn’t want to be there, not in maths, not anywhere.

So this guy at the end of this lesson comes up to me and asks if I’m okay. I put on that fake smile we all do and say “yeah I’m fine” in the fake cheery voice I’ve perfected. He then continues to say “*insert teachers name* can be a dick sometimes can’t he” and smiles. I laugh, then realise how nice that was of him it was to make me smile. Shit, it was the nicest thing someone had done for me in weeks.

I cried as I walked to the music block on my own. He hasn’t been in maths lately. But then again neither have I.