The Student Read online

d hardly considered the fact that he would have to work with kids. Nick, his former classmate from MIT, begged him to work at his private tutoring company at least while Drew waited to find an engineering job. He boasted to himself about his math skills and accepted Nick’s offer with pride. Now, there he was, back in high school. Clutching his olive messenger bag, Drew flinched as he passed each kid in the bright hallway. Cream colored reflective tiles tiles and glossy white stucco walls spiraled around him. He flinched at the out-of-sync clocks, the inconsistent widths of the lockers, the annoyingly oblivious students. All he had to do was find room 109. Just find room 109. The appointment was arranged by the kid’s parents. Damn, he should have asked for his name.

  Chewing his lip and squinting, Drew pretended he wasn’t putting his hand to that metal knob. He shivered, feeling the fresh warmth from the fifteen hands that must have touched it in the last ten minutes.

  Questions poked at Drew’s mask of calmness as a lanky kid in a green flannel shirt picked his tired head up from his arms and looked into him. Who was this kid? Why was he wearing horn-rimmed glasses? Was he a poor student? He wasn’t doing well, but it was BC Calc...

  “What’s goin’ on, I’m Will,” the kid said as he stuck out his hand.

  “Hey, good– I’m Drew.” God that was painful. Drew struggled to think of a single kid he went to high school with that had the same confident yet inviting aura. Will didn’t seem like Timothy Crew, the chest-pounding bastard that used to debate Drew in Macroeconomics in such a childish way. Will was not Joel Gupta, the one kid Drew felt he could have been friends with had they not been so competitive with one another. And Will was not Ron Sankey, who invited Drew to a few parties out of sympathy but pretended not to know him on those dark Saturday nights. Drew found no malicious motives under Will’s smile, no hint of insincerity. He realized he had been standing motionless, so he unfroze and tried to nonchalantly toss his bag onto the table. He forced his eyes closed as it landed.

  “So, I hear you need some help with BC Calc?” Drew continued.

  “Looks that way,” Will said. He laughed, leaving Drew perplexed.

  “Not too happy with your grades?” Drew asked. Will sighed with an upward inflection and shrugged, a calm smile remaining on his face.

  “Well, everyone’s telling me to get my grade up, teacher, advisor, counselor, parents, you know how it is...” No, he didn’t ‘know how it is’. Will must be headed for failure if this is how he treats his commitments. Drew finally sat down.

  Ten minutes later, Drew was left baffled and frustrated at Will’s inability to simply sit down and do the problems. Will kept pushing him to explain the broader concept, insisting that he could not do a problem until it clicked with him. Fine.

  Once again, drew scribbled the linearization method, followed by the Leibniz’s differential method right next to it. He tried to narrate as he wrote.

  “You’re doing the same thing but with different notation. It’s simple.”

  “So when would you know to use the Leibniz method?” Will asked.

  “Did you hear what I just said? They are the exact same thing! How could you go through this unit without already knowing that?” Drew said.

  “Oh! That makes much more sense now, thanks.” Will nodded and wrote something in his notes, remaining slightly reclined. He began working on the next problem, and seemed to be doing it right.

  Drew felt his outburst continue to echo across the off-white room; Will’s docility allowed the echo to reverberate. Should he apologize?

  Later that day, the phone rang in Drew’s apartment. The apartment was small, and devoid of any sign that Drew lived there. He was never one for an excessive amount of posters or decorations, but he kept what he had packed neatly into plastic bins and cardboard tubes in his closet. At any given time, Drew often told himself, a real estate agent could walk into that apartment and show it to a prospective buyer and Drew would not have to change or hide a single thing. He bet it would take him no more than an hour to entirely move out. Drew sometimes admitted that he didn’t mind how small and cheap the apartment was, and that he even liked it, but his satisfaction was replaced by guilt when he saw that his mom was the one calling him.

  “Hey mom.”

  “Hey Drew, how are things.”

  “Okay, I ended up agreeing to tutor at Nick’s company for now.” He sat uncomfortable on the edge of his couch. His right knee began to bounce atop its toes.

  “For now? What does that mean? You haven’t stopped looking, have you?”

  “No, of course not. I’m still waiting to hear from that one biomedical company Parsons Corp, the one I told you about that sequences your genes and tells you what kinds of–”

  “Right, right, let me know when you hear about that. And you’re still looking for interviews you said?” she asked. Drew froze. “You better not just be hoping for the genetic thing to work out? That’s not very much of a plan. This is in your hands Drew, I can’t keep pushing you to do this.”

  “I’m doing everything I can mom. You don’t need to call me about this stuff anymore. It’s my job we’re talking about, not yours. I was one of the top students at MIT, I think I’ll be just fine. You don’t even know the first thing about engineering or how hard it is to find a job now.”

  “Don’t talk to me like that. I gotta go, but call your father about this. You can’t afford to just hope that these things will work out. You’re gonna have to do a little more. And don’t expect me to not worry about this when you’re tutoring high school kids and living in some piece of crap apartment. Goodbye Drew.”

  After hanging up, Drew furiously cleaned his apartment and sent his résumé to a few more companies.

  He found himself in bed early as he always did, this time with no desire to plan out the next day or to fall asleep, two things he usually did within five minutes of getting into bed. His mind wandered to Will, accepting Drew’s negative pressure for what it was, but not letting it dictate his actions. When Drew snapped at him earlier, Will felt no need to put up a fight. He felt no need to prove himself. Above all, Will was not discouraged or angered. Was this how Drew should have acted with his mom? No, no, she was putting unfair pressure on him, like she has his whole life. It was good that he defended himself. Feeling too warm, Drew tossed the comforter off of his sweated legs and focused on sleeping.

  Four days later, Drew was back at Geoffrey High. Past the kids smoking cigarettes by the rusted bike rack, through the chipped blue doors, down those disorienting hallways. It was getting easier.

  As Drew turned the corner and faced his last hallway, he saw Will speaking to a girl just past the door to 109. Her face was twisted and pressed into a frustrated, confused expression, but she seemed to be the one addressing Will. Will simply stood looking at her with a plain face, nodding his head understandingly. Drew figured he should head straight for the room and avoid eye contact.

  “I can’t take you anymore. How can you be happy right now? I thought you’d take this seriously.” Drew overheard the girl say.

  “What? I am taking this seriously. I’m just trying to be calm and hear what you have to say. What do you want me to do?” Will said.

  “You’re unbelievable. I’m leaving,” she said.

  “Okay.” The girl turned away and broke into a light jog towards her next class, wiping her eyes dramatically. Drew realized he had been standing outside the door to 109, and met eyes with Will before he could unfreeze and pretend he had just arrived.

  “Drew! What’s up, man?” Will stuck his hand out once again. Shit, was he going to do this every time? Drew returned the hand shake as he always felt forced to do with such primitive gestures. This time, though, he sensed some sort of genuine fondness, something D
rew had never experienced or believed was possible from simple body language.

  “Uh, nothing,” Drew finally said.

  “Sorry you had to hear all that,” Will said, walking through the door and over to the stained wood table.

  “Oh, no problem.”

  Will had already pulled out his chair and dropped his calculator, notes, and pencil onto the table. There’s no way he wasn’t still thinking about that girl. If Drew was still stressed by what he heard from their conversation, surely Will was too.

  Drew sat down and was finally able to study him as Will searched for something in his backpack. It was hard to not focus on the stack of ripped, out of order, backwards, upside down, and right side up sheets of paper Will had been allowing to accumulate in his backpack all year. Will was a naturally handsome kid, but he put no effort into his appearance. He wore loose clothes and had some facial hair, which was somewhere between a beard and the face of a 15 year old boy whose dad still hadn’t taught him how to use a razor. His hair was knotty, bushy, obviously unshowered. Tattered, once-purple (now brown) sneakers clung to his feet. He unzipped his forest green hoodie, revealing a white t shirt still wet with coffee. Will caught Drew noticing the stain.

  “Oh yeah, I bumped into a friend at lunch today. Kind of annoying, but what are ya gonna do,” Will said lightheartedly.

  “So... Did you have your test on linearization and differentials yet?”

  “Yeah I took it yesterday, I think it went alright.” Will leaned forward in his chair and looked at a blank homework sheet, biting the cap of his pen. Drew looked at Will’s shirt and thought about that girl walking away. He began to tap his fingers on his messenger bag. Then, a man’s voice pierced through a tinny intercom–

  “To the owner of the navy Jeep Cherokee, your car has been towed. You cannot keep parking right in front of the staircase, even if you are late.” Will laughed through his nose and shook his head.

  “Mr. Pinkham will always be on my back. He hates when I park there,” Will said as he continued to snort.

  “You can go take care of that if you want, I don’t mind.”

  “No, I’ll deal with that crap later. It’ll be fine.” Will cleared his throat and returned his focus to his math sheet, waiting for Drew to ask what his next unit was.

  Drew felt like breaking down and begging Will to get his car, change his shirt, follow up with that girl... this kid should have been one conglomeration of stress. But he wasn’t; Will smiled contently and eased into his chair. How was he doing this?

  Drew sat on the packed train after meeting with Will, counting the stops until he could get home. Seven more to go. He hugged his messenger bag, nearly burying his head into it, squeezing his face and eyelids together so he could pretend he wasn’t surrounded by such chaos. First there was the eight year old counting to one hundred and twenty because his mom told him to “wait a few minutes” while she was on the phone, then the grumbling derelict who seemed not to know he was on a train, the plump man who kept wheezing and coughing in his ear, the sleeping woman who was beginning to drool on her sweatshirt. Exactly 63 hands were grabbing onto moist metal bars and oily rubber loops on that train. Many spoke on the phone, one half of each conversation making it to Drew’s ears simultaneously. He bit down on the strap of his bag and tried to breathe. He wanted to lean back in his seat again and calm down, but the sleeping women had slid behind him. That was it. Drew’s brain was an ugly pimple, yet there was no way to pop it.

  ”Now entering, Oak Hill Station. Please hold on as the train slows to a stop.” Five more stops? Drew shot up as the train slowed, red in the face, and pushed through everybody as the doors opened. He managed to find an empty bench and sat down. Should he just walk home? It was quite far.

  Deep breaths. The bench pulled him with increasing force, weight building throughout him. He still heard that stupid little kid, that wheeze, that guy on a customer service call about his laptop. He still saw that drool. The feeling of lukewarm coffee bleeding through his shirt and the smell its spoiled odor intrusively entered his mind, while Will must have moved on, his shirt probably perfectly dry by then.

  Drew shivered to recuperate, opened his eyes, and stopped breathing so dramatically. He had been focusing on too many things to realize that someone was smoking near him, but it was fine. It didn’t actually bother him, now that he thought of it. Maybe he just needed to not exert his thoughts on this crap. It was a waste of his time, anyway. He got on the next train that pulled up and resumed his trip home. Drew wasn’t suddenly free from anxiety; he was as perceptive as he was on the last train. However, he looked away and told himself ignore that kid crawling on the grimy floor and picking up coins rather than staring in anger at the kid’s mom.

  Drew was back sitting on that very train in December, listening to some band Will had told him about called Radiohead on his phone. He was coming into Geoffrey High for his last scheduled meeting with Will. Over the past month, he had continued to worry less about these meetings. To Drew’s surprise, they had even developed jokes and ways of greeting each other that felt genuine. One issue was Will’s calculus grade; it had gone up slightly in the last week but not enough to make a difference. Drew enjoyed interacting with him, but he felt discouraged when he thought about the progress they had really made.

  He was in room 109 twenty minutes later, and Will was waiting for him.

  “Drew, what’s up bud?”

  “Will, not much, how are things?” Drew asked, beaming. Will shrugged and let out another one of his high pitched sighs, something Drew was beginning to grow used to.

  “Fine, I guess, I just found out I got deferred from Bates the other day but whatever,” Will said. Just like he always did, Will really meant ‘whatever’; Drew could see it in his content eyes, his steady hands.

  “Oh, wow, that’s too bad.” Drew was reminded that he was still waiting to hear from Parsons Corp. If he didn’t get the job, that was it. A heavy knot twisted and tightened in his stomach.

  “No, it’s really fine, things will work out.” How could he say that right now? Drew felt like he had lost. He had a chance to help this kid break out of his careless stupor and actually go somewhere, and he failed. Drew once again stood in Will’s shadow, feeling the stress and fear that he thought Will should be feeling. “Anyways, the next unit’s on infinite series, it’s pretty cool actually.” There was nothing left inside Drew to push him out of his slouched position to begin helping Will.

  “We don’t have to meet if you don’t want, I’ll understand,” Drew said, staring at the table with defeated eyes.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well what’s the point?” Drew asked. The one time he felt Will should call it quits, Will didn’t want to.

  “There doesn’t have to be one. I just do what I like” Will said. Drew’s head tilted, and his eyes squinted in confusion. “This was never about college. I mean, it was for my parents and stuff, but it never was for me. I just happen to find this unit interesting, and wanted some help with my homework– there’s no big reason for it. I’m gonna end up fine.” Drew clutched his short black hair and looked at his feet. Something wasn’t making sense.

  “So why do you do things?” What was Drew doing? Surely he knew more about life than Will. Will laughed.

  “To enjoy them! Why do you do things?” Will teased. Drew said nothing, not because Will was just joking, but because he didn’t know what to say.

  That night, Drew cursed his cell service as he walked to his apartment from the train station. An email struggled to load on his phone, but all he needed to see was the subject: Congratulations from Parsons Corp! A deep laugh escaped Drew’s chest. He clumsily punched the air a few times and trotted the rest of the way to his apartment.

  Drew opened the door and looked around. This is where he lived–why would he feel shameful about that? He turned on the radio, opened the fridge and grabbed one of the ancient beers that seemed to have always b
een there, and walked to his closet. He sloppily taped his original Star Wars poster to his door and stood back to admire it, smiling for a prolongated moment. Next came his action figures, the Nintendo 64, and finally his books; when was the last time he had even read for fun? There was no point in telling himself each day that he planned to move out. The place was feeling pretty cozy, actually.

  Drew pulled out his phone to text Nick: Hey Nick, I ended up getting a job so I can only tutor through February. Feel free to load up my schedule until then, I have really enjoyed it so far. Thanks. He was about to put the phone back in his pocket when it began to buzz again. It was his mom. Of course she remembered that today was when he found out about the job. Drew held down the lock button on his phone and tossed it on his bed. He finished his beer and went outside for a walk. Drew’s entire body vibrated with a warm satisfaction as he made his way outside. His grin stretched, his shoulders loosened, his gait became more comfortable. For the first time, Drew felt so, so, here.