1, 2, 3, 4, Can I Have a Little More (Brooke)

[Peyton Turner]

Peyton disliked libraries. He really did. They made him think of homework and assigned reading and - worst of all - no talking. But he had to.

Last year he'd learned a lot about himself, how he learned, what his problems were, and he'd been neglecting those things for the past month and change. And now things were starting to pile up, and it wasn't just stuff that he could do in class, or before or after class. It was legit homework that couldn't be half-assed any longer. He was starting to worry about it.

Why the library? Well, that was one of Peyton's many learning quirks. He couldn't focus in his room, there were too many distractions. Yes, he could do homework there, but it usually came out off topic or only partly finished. He'd learned that he needed a place that screamed academics for him to work on academics. Which was why he was at the library.

He had his hoodie pulled up, crouched over the table on his elbows, face in shadow as he tapped his pencil nervously against his book bag (which was up on the table in the hopes of blocking anyone's view). He really didn't want to run into anyone here. He didn't want anyone to see just how long this would take him, how hard it was for him to sit still, how much work he had piled up for himself with the promise of partial late credit. It was embarrassing. He wasn't stupid. He just learned - and worked - differently.

His leg was jiggling continuously, with just the slightest of movements, so fast that it was almost vibrating, as he stared at the question in front of him. Wait, okay, he'd already forgotten what it was asking - he read it again. And again. But what was he suppose to write? Could he just list some facts? Ugh, this was frustrating.

He jotted down a list of words that vaguely answered the question, and shut that textbook. He couldn't deal with that now. Let's return to something that made more sense: math.

Math was Peyton's savior. Numbers made sense. There was only one way to answer, it was clear how to do it, and you could check your work. None of these dates and decisions and reasons why. Why? Because math. It was just such a satisfying reason. He was even a year ahead in math, which was saying something, since he was a year behind in history and science, thanks to his 'year of learning' (as he not-so-fondly called it) and the differences of curriculum from state to state.

He pulled out his TI-83 and started jotting down his calculations, pushing keys, jotting some more, writing a few lines out by hand as he worked through the problem... it was almost relaxing. Okay, maybe not relaxing, but... meditative. It kept his mind busy but didn't mix any words in with his thoughts. Just numbers. Straightforward numbers.

[Deleted]

Brooke was feeling a little bit better than she had been the past couple weeks. She was finally starting to feel like herself again, like she had just climbed out of some long and endless dream….well, more like a nightmare.

But now that she was able to function again, she had some catching up to do. And thus, it was off to the library she went!

It would probably take her an hour to get her homework done if she half-assed it. Which meant she had plenty of time to finish!

Brooke stepped into the library in a pair of slim jeans and a pink and red striped collared top(It was too cold for tanks anymore and Astley wouldn't let her wear them while it was cold). Her hair bobbed in brown curls about her shoulders, pinned on one side to keep her bangs from her eyes, and shining from being freshly washed.

She didn't even care who it was that she sidled up next to, she just wanted to do something interesting. So Brooke picked the first person she saw and sat on the table he was sitting at, with her feet resting on the chair next to him, and she picked up the book he had just closed moments ago and opened it to the couple sheets of paper that had been squished inside it.

With her expert speed reading eyes, Brooke skimmed over the assignment. "Ya got this one wrong," she said bluntly out of nowhere. "An' this one an' this one…wow, yur ain'good at this stuff, ain'cha?" She leaned her elbows into the book and rested her chin on the back of her inside fist and tipped her head "innocently."

[Peyton Turner]

Peyton was torn. Because, on the one hand: it was Bitchin'! The girl from the Nerf battle! And that deserved his awe and respect. But on the other hand: she was calling him stupid. It was a very difficult thing to respond to, and Peyton wasn't in a good mood to start with. But the math had calmed him at least, and he kept his eyes on it, finishing his current problem as he murmured to her. "I've noticed."

Once that problem was done, he sat back, taking her in. She looked different than she had when he'd met her, but he couldn't exactly place what. "History isn't my strong suit." His words were heavy - far darker than usual - with a strong dose of wry sarcasm. He wasn't usually this biting, he just didn't like feeling stupid.

But, weirdly enough, her tone wasn't actually that offensive. Sure, she'd basically called him a moron, but at least she'd been upfront with it, not pitying or patronizing. That was what he didn't like: being looked down on or treated like he didn't understand simple components just because he didn't get them as a whole. He was a smart kid, he was, it just took a different approach. And text books were not the right approach.

Picking up the papers, he glanced to the questions she'd pointed out. Yeah, he wasn't really sure what he'd been writing there, it was more like shooting stuff at a wall and hoping something would stick. Except instead of a wall it was a question. And instead of shooting stuff it was writing things. And instead of hoping something would stick, he was hoping something was right. Which, apparently, it wasn't.

"Ok then, what's the right answer?" He asked, starting to erase his previous answers to put in what she told him. If he had the time, he'd actually attempt to know why his answers had been wrong, but he was over a week behind on the homework he'd been avoiding, and he had a lot left to do. He didn't have the time.

[Deleted]

Brooke smiled despite his snapping. She just let it roll off her shoulders, she was used to getting strange and biting remarks from people who didn't quite "get" her. If they didn't like what she had to say, then whatever, they could go do something else for all she cared, it wasn't like she was holding a gun to their heads to make them listen.

Though she might hold a nerf gun if she felt like it.

Brooke pointed to one of the questions and iterated the correct answer. "You like t' read? Like, normal books?" she asked, looking down at the irritable boy with a patient grin. Then she giggled and shifted her focus out to the rest of the library.

"The way I see it, History 's jus' like readin' a story, an' then writin' about it." She pointed at one of the questions. "Or maybe even better is writin' a story an' makin' a summary." Brooke started her rant on how history worked. She didn't really have much troubles with reading about history, but she did find it a whole lot more interesting when the facts about it were given in context or in a story-tell format, rather than just a book throwing information at you.

"Give yurself a 'magination and pretend yur livin' in those times. Make a charrie an' jus' throw 'em in an' see where they go! Jus' like in the dungeony dragony adven-churs." She was babbling, and he might not have been listening, but she didn't care. "You remember more 'bout setting an' culture an' history when it's explained in the middle 'f a story that makes it relevant. 's a lot easier than jus' readin' it over an' over in a textbook, ya know?"

[Peyton Turner]

Peyton scrawled down the girl's words as best as he could as she answered the question for him. And once she said it that way... okay, so it made maybe 50% more sense. Still, he was at a total of about 80%, which, while decent, wasn't ideal.

"You like t' read? Like, normal books?"

It took Peyton a second to realize that she was asking him a question, he was still attempting to cement her answer into his head. "...Sometimes, yeah." But it didn't really matter what his answer was, as she was too busy going on. The lecture was annoying, but at least it wasn't pointedly telling him to do something. Actually, her reference to D&D managed to pull a slight smile out of him. And the thing she said about stories - "Yeah, I like stories and stuff, I get what you're saying about the textbooks, for sure - but I don't have some universal timeline in my head."

Maybe he was just tired - he was definitely frustrated, that was for sure - or maybe he thought Bitchin' might get him, but whatever the reason was, he actually found himself explaining things to her. "I can't just pull this shit out of my brain. I need tools - mnemonics and songs and shit like that - the kind of thing that organizes things for you." And even then it was still frustrating when it got to the 'why.'

Truth be told, he was relieved whenever they covered something that he'd seen on TV or in a game or story - that sort of thing he definitely held on to better, stuff that he could watch (even if it was watching in his head, like with novels). But the problem came when he was supposed to remember everything altogether. Like 'given your knowledge of the goods produced in X, why might they have fought with Y.' How the fuck was he supposed to know that? He might remember some of the things place X made, okay. But he couldn't even begin to place the rest of it.

[Deleted]

Brooke giggled as she watched the cutie scribble out the answers to them easy history questions like it would save his life, though she figured it would probably save his grade pretty near, so maybe it wasn't that far off?

"Mmmm….Well why don'cha jus' getcha one?" A timeline. Or maybe this guy needed something different to learn it all. She wondered for a moment what his learning strategies were, though he offered it by himself without Brooke having to ask anything, so whoo, win one for the win!

"Aww…there's stuff like that all over th' place. I see a champ come in here all the time and do nothin' but watch the youtubes t' get the learning done. Never even crack a book." Though Brooke had no idea whether that worked for the kid or if he was just too lazy to read the textbook assignments. "Ther's like, a lotta people who jus' paste stuff on the nets of random stuffs. I know a guy who dida fuck-ton of song-paroridies t' all his ass-signments 'n jus' posted 'em for all t' see!" Brooke had no idea if she was helping, but it probably didn't matter.

She kicked her legs back and forth as she sat on the table and held her arms taut against the surface. "Th' interwebs got eeeeverythin'."