Eighteen year old Evan Harris sat in the back of the classroom and doodled in his notebook as his teacher, Mr Miller, was going on about perpendicular lines. He looked up and watched the salt and pepper haired teacher connect two lines in the center of the board and shook his head. He had never understood the subject. Math wasn't something he enjoyed or ever figured he would use in the real world. If he was honest, he was surprised he had made it through the previous classes without having to repeat. So with that, and considering Algebra was his last class of the day, he always had trouble paying attention. Evan returned his attention to the notebook before him and was just finishing up a picture of a large fire breathing dragon when he heard his name.

"Mr Harris?"

He quickly looked up. Every eye in the class was on him.

"I asked you if you had the answer to the question on the chalkboard." The teacher pointed to the lines and points on the green surface

"I don't... I..." Evan stammered. Around him he heard a few giggles.

"Pay attention Mr Harris." The teacher frowned as he called on someone else.

Evan could feel his cheeks flush with embarrassment. He wasn't used to being called on in class. He always sat in the back and kept his head down, so the teachers usually left him alone. His eyes quickly floated around the room to make sure no one was still staring at him. His eyes landed on the big jock's sitting across the room. The guy quickly looked away. It wasn't the first time Evan had noticed him staring at him. He sometimes wondered if the guy was planning something involving a bat or some other type of blunt device. Evan was the only emo in a very small school in a southern town. Most people looked down on him because of his odd clothes and black hair. He didn't really care though because as soon as he graduated he was gone, getting as far away from the town as he could get. But for the moment he was stuck in the damn place.

He closed his notebook, opened his math book and tried, as hard as he could, to pay attention. Evan crossed his arms over his chest and listened as Miller droned on and on about slopes and negative reciprocals. He closed his eyes and sighed, maybe if he had paid attention at the beginning of the lesson he would understand what the teacher rambled on about, though he doubted it. The final bell pulled him from his thoughts and he quickly put his books into his backpack and zipped it up. Hearing that last bell was by far his favorite part of the day. By the time he gotten up from his seat, most of the other students were already gone. He stopped at the end of the row as the rest of the people hurried by him. The jock caught his eye again as he walked past, and just as before, the tall fellow quickly averted his gaze.

Evan was at the door when the teacher called his name again.

"Evan, can I talk to you for a second?"

Evan sighed and turned around. The teacher sat in his seat, a piece of paper on the desk in front of him, his hands clasped together and a serious look on his face. Evan knew from the worried expression something was wrong.

"Have a seat, if you don't mind." Mr Miller pointed at the desk directly in front of him. Evan slid into the seat and placed his backpack on the small attached table. "I hate to tell you this Evan, but you're failing." The teacher pushed the paper forward and motioned for Evan to take it. He looked down at the most recent test, a big red F circled on the top by his name.

"But we have only been in school a couple months, how can I be failing, aren't there more tests to go?" Evan started to panic, how could he be failing? He had paid the same about of attention in his other math classes, granted he had passed by the skin of his teeth, but he had passed.

"Of course there are Evan, but you have failed every test so far, and you haven't turned in any homework. Do you honestly think you will pass the next ones?"

Evan lowered his head. Miller was right, he didn't study, didn't even try most of the time. How did he expect to pass? He felt something akin to shame bubble up. "I just don't really understand the subject." Evan spoke honestly. Math had never been his strongest suit. "I've tried but I can't seem to focus." He shrugged.

"Well if you're willing, I can find try to find a tutor and you might be able to bring your grade up by the end of the school year. You know you need this class Evan. If you fail you may have to repeat next year."

Evan's heart sank at the suggestion; he was barely going to make it through this time around. There was no way he could do it again. He sighed and nodded. Even though the idea of a tutor didn't sit right with him either, what other choice did he have? "I have to work Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays," the emo rattled off his schedule. "I can meet with someone any other day though." At the age of sixteen he had started working at the music shop in the mall. He liked the hours and the fact the store was never crowded because, with all the music available for download on the internet, people just didn't buy CDs anymore. He also had to credit the place with giving him his current style. It was where he was first introduced to the music that made him feel like he wasn't alone in the world. Made him see there were other people who had just as many trials and tribulations as he did.

"Well tomorrow is Tuesday. I'll see what I can do and let you know if I've found someone."

"Okay, thanks Mr Miller." Evan grabbed his bag and headed to the door. He was grateful the teacher was willing to give him a second chance, but he wanted to get out of there before Miller could think of anything else to say.

Instead of going out to his car, he made his way into the bathroom. Everyone had already cleared, and he imagined that if he spoke the sound would echo into the empty space. His bag made a dull thud that vibrated against the walls as he dropped it to the tiled floor. Evan stood in front of the mirror and took in his reflection. He had started dyeing his hair black a couple years before, and had let it grow into a long style that fell just shy of his shoulders, bangs pulled to the side. The inky black stood out as a stark comparison to his pale skin, but the contrast worked. He slowly moved his hand up and touched the dull yellow remnants of a bruise that had been much worse a few days before. It was just one of the many presents from his dad. He shook a little at the memory, but pushed it away just as quickly. Through the years he had gotten pretty good at deflecting the images that popped into his head. His dad, red faced and angry, yelling, fist pulled back, looking to make contact with anything in its path.

He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. At least one good thing about the tutoring was he didn't have to go straight home on the days he didn't have to work. He liked to avoid confrontations with his dad as much as he possibly could. He had even picked up going to the local gym three days a week. After going for almost six months, he could tell a real difference from the scrawny kid he used to be. His muscles had gotten harder and the start of a six-pack was starting to show on his stomach. Although he was still thin, it didn't look bad. The added muscle made him look more toned and capable. He had even had to go buy a couple new shirts since most of his old ones had begun to stretch over his chest. The added muscle didn't help against his father though. Evan had once gotten up the nerve to fight back and was beat until he couldn't stand. He was out of school for almost a week. His excuse, when the teachers had asked, was that he had been in a car accident. They didn't ask any more questions, but they gave him a look that said they knew there was more to the story than he was telling.