1 One

September 12

"Mr. West?" One of the teachers called after the bell had rung. Students were clearing the room while James West stepped in front of her desk. She smiled gently up at him. "I've noticed you seem to be struggling in math," He stood, itching to leave. Teachers always make him feel more than a bit uncomfortable alone. He nodded. "I think," She began slowly, "you should go to a math tutor."

His brow creased. The clock on the wall read 3:32. He'd miss his bus if this took too long. Mrs. Walk continued, "There's a new math tutor in room 324, near the art room." Mentally, he tried to find the room. "She's actually an honors student. A senior, like you, too."

He didn't really care too much. James nodded his head. "Why don't you see her today and see if you like her as your tutor?" He didn't want anyone as his tutor. The only reason he wasn't keeping up with math was because of his job.

He was still getting used to working nights. "Alright." Mrs. Walk smiled appreciably at his one-word response.

"Wonderful! I'm sure Miss Night will be thrilled to have her first student!" For the first time, he noticed the small smear of lipstick on her front tooth. Her teeth were a ghastly yellow color and the dark red of the lipstick only made it more obvious.

"Sure." He stepped away from her desk and towards the door, wanting more than anything to get away from the sixty-four-year-old woman and her graying hair. And especially the large quantity of makeup she used to try and hide her age. As he was about to step over the threshold of the classroom, he looked at her from a distance. "Oh, and Mrs. Walk?" She looked up from her papers, smudged glasses perched on the bridge of her nose. "You have lipstick on your teeth."

___

Alia Night sat upside down on an uncomfortable plastic chair in a small classroom at the end of some hall. The baggy shirt she wore rode up to where her flat stomach and the smallest line of her bra was visible.

She was bored and tired and hungry. She didn't think anyone was going to want to be tutored by her. The only hope she had for a student was when Mrs. Walk had said, "I know someone who could use help in math."

From her lips, a sigh escaped. What was she doing? Right now she could be at home, warm under her covers and be watching Netflix. And instead, she was waiting in an empty classroom for someone who probably wouldn't even show up. Alia didn't even know who that person was!

Was it a boy or a girl? That was what she wondered most. Her second worry, though, was how bad they really needed help on the subject.

It probably wouldn't even matter if she left right now. So why was she still here, in the classroom, bored out of her mind and hungry?

She knew it was only because she wondered if someone really was going to come to this classroom, needing help with stupid math. But was that curiosity really strong enough to keep her here?

Yes. It definitely was.

"This is stupid. Why am I still here?" She wondered aloud.

Minutes ticked by where she studied all the inanimate objects of the room. The potted plant on the sill of the window. The Expo marker ink dried to the board. But what stood out the most was not an object but a sound. The sound of the wall clock ticking. 3:43 it read.

It felt like so much longer than just fifteen minutes to her. It felt like at least an hour since she'd happily sat in the uncomfortable chair to begin her wait for anyone to tutor. That's what it felt like.

Finally, she decided to leave, that it simply wasn't worth her time. So, instead of continuing to wait, she slid from her chair and stood. Alia slung her bag weighted with books over her shoulder and zipped the open pocket that used to have a granola bar closed.

"This was a waste of my time." She muttered to the empty room. She stomped in the direction of the door, still annoyed by her lost time. Fifteen minutes wasn't long, but it was still too long for her to sit and do nothing.

The door opened, rather unexpectedly, to reveal a James West. He towered a good six inches taller than her so she estimated he was about six foot three. Or, she would've if the very edge of the door hadn't slammed against her knee.

She let out a cry of pain and pushed her hands to her left knee. When she did, however, she bent forward and hit her forehead against the door as well. "Mother of fridge!" She yelled. It was the closest she really ever got to cursing.

She fell backward onto her butt. Now her knee, head, and butt hurt. Wonderful. A good three minutes passed of not-really-cursing, while Alia sat on the floor and James, stood in the doorway, not entirely sure what to do before any words were said. And the words spoken came from Alia, "Help me up!"

"Shouldn't you say please?"

"Just get me off the dang floor!" She was seething and ached where the door had hit her minutes before. He extended a hand and helped her off the floor. She stabbed a finger in his direction after she regained balance, seeming undaunted by their difference in height. "Who are you and why in the heck are you in here?"

Gently, like he thought he would hurt her, he pushed her finger away from his face. Her nails seemed long enough to gouge out his eyes. Staring down at her, he replied, "I'm James West, and I'm pretty sure I'm your first student."