"I'm in your space, what does it take...?"
___

On Sunday, Royce Greene is a mother-fucking wreck.

Her words.

First of all, she's drowning in unanswered math problems.

Secondly, Calum Hood is coming over to her house.

What?

No.

Calum Hood is supposed to be nowhere near the place she lives, and now, now at this point not only would he have dropped her off, but he'd be stepping foot inside her place.

He'd be inside her kitchen.

Or, he'd be inside her bedroom.

No.

She wouldn't allow him near her bedroom.

Didn't stop her from cleaning it up, though.

"Whoa," Paige laughs, as she leans against the doorframe and watches Royce make her bed and pick up all her shit. "Is bae coming over in fifteen minutes to Netflix and chill?"

Royce pauses, clothes in her arms. "Ha ha."

Paige lifts her brows. "You shave, y'know...down there?"

Royce's jaw falls. "Fuck you, Paige!"

She breaks out into laughter.

That was the third thing.

Royce's family needed to get the fuck out of the house.

It was 11:20 and Paige hadn't left yet, since she was waiting on Jesy to pick her up. Her dad had yet to take Tobe to his cello practice and her mom, the only person who'd be even remotely unbiased and relaxed when - if - ever meeting Calum, had a spa day she hadn't gone to because she was digging around the house for her keys.

Royce needed her family to get the fuck out of her house because this was really just pushing things too far for her liking.

"I'm only teasing, Pops," sighs Paige as Royce continues to pick up the shit around her room. "But seriously," she stares at her manicure, as Royce wonders when the hell her sister's going to finally get out and go. "Who's coming over, huh?"

Royce decidedly doesn't look her sister's way, as she slowly bends over and picks her cheerleading uniform from the floor beside her desk.

"Uh..." She pauses, purposefully shaking out the skirt and folding it. She smooths out the pleats, still keeping her eyes on the fabric and not her big sister, who's staring expectantly, awaiting her answer.

"No one important," she finishes, finding the tank top, now. "It's just..." She shrugs, "Just some smart kid from my math class," and she employs the same tactic that she did with her friends, changing the subject. "I think, no wait, I know if I don't get help I'm gonna fail."

Paige laughs, "You're a straight-A student, Poppy. You're not gonna fail anything."

"Try explaining that to my brain when it comes to rate of change," Royce mutters, and Paige laughs again, backing out of the room.

"Alright, alright," she says, "Fuck math, anyway. You shoulda took Statistics. That's the easiest class offered in this school."

"Yeah, 'cause Father David's a fuckin' pushover without a backbone."

"So? An easy A is an easy A. Just ask Heather Prynne."

"Hester. It's Hester Prynne, Paige. Jesus," Royce laughs, shaking her head. "Did you read that book? I know you had to read The Scarlet Letter freshman year."

Paige grins. "Nah, but I saw the movie. Just ask Emma Stone."

Royce rolls her eyes with a groan. "You're such a cheerleader, Paigey. Now, get the fuck outta here and leave already! I need this house to study!"

And that, thankfully, is not a lie.

Thankfully, her dad takes Tobe first.

Then, thankfully, her mom finds her keys.

And at 11:55, that just leaves Paige.

Of-fucking-course.

At 11:57, though, thankfully, Jesy pulls up and Paige runs out the door and literally at 12:02, Calum is standing on her doorstep ringing the bell.

"Sorry I'm late," he says, although it's 12:04 as Royce closes the door behind him and leads him into her gigantic house. "I couldn't find a place to fucking park."

Royce waves him off. "It's fine," she says, because he's barely late (I mean, four minutes? C'mon), and had he been on time, he'd have run right into Paige.

And Royce really didn't need Calum running into Paige.

"You're the only one home?" He asks, pausing to look at a baby picture of Royce.

"Yep," she replies.

Then, she groans, tugging his arm to pull him along. "Don't look at that shit."

"What? Why?" He laughs, as he stumbles along behind her. "Jesus you're strong. Why can't I look at the pictures?"

"'Cause you're here to do math, idiot."

"You were cute, Royce."

"And it's all fun and games 'til I hit puberty."

Calum laughs out loud.

"See! Shut up. You don't need to see my awkward stage, okay. Thanks."

"You're hot now, so who cares?"

"I..." Royce shakes her head, happy that he's behind her and can't see how she's blushing. "Whatever. You still can't see 'em."

"Aww, c'mon."

Now, it's Royce's turn to laugh. "Sorry, not sorry."

She leads him through the house and into the kitchen.

"You can sit here," she says, pointing to the little breakfast nook. Calum nods, sliding onto the bench beside her. It's a bright day, so the sun shines through the open windows and falls on Royce's hair and makes it look really shiny and bright and shows off her natural highlights and...

"Calum?"

He snaps his head up. "Yeah?"

Royce is staring at him like he's crazy. "I asked if you wanted something to drink."

"Uh..."

"I've got water, or juice..." She rises from the bench, sliding away from him and out of the sunlight. "Sorry, there's no soda 'cause Paige is on a diet and my mom was all, 'Yeah, let's diet,' and Tobe was all, 'Treat your body like a temple,' and 'Sugar's a disease...'"

"You're so weird, Royce."

Royce pauses, laughing. She actually laughs at herself. "Yeah," she nods, opening the refrigerator and peering inside. "I know," and she rights herself, pulling out cold plastic bottles. "Water?"

He nods. "Sure."

She brings the bottles with her back to the table, sliding beside him again, handing him one of the bottles.

"Okay," she nods, as he cracks the cap on the water. She shakes her hair back, reaching around to pull it into a ponytail. It swings around her face and Calum can smell those papayas or mangos or whatever the hell it is that makes her hair smell so sweet and fruity and he kind of leans towards her. 

She pulls her hair back and nods. "Right. Math. Let's go."

"Yeah," Calum nods, and Royce thinks he's awfully quiet today...and like, weirder than usual.

If that's possible.

"Okay, so, here's a list of the shit that's gonna be on the test, and so I was thinking we could just do the review together, yeah?" He asks, and then he lifts a brow. "Unless, y'know...there's something you want to go over."

"Actually, yeah..." Royce replies, nodding slowly. She almost can't believe that Calum is offering to really actually help her. Like, she really actually appreciates this.

Like, a lot.

"Yeah," she nods. "Can we go over rate of change, again? And possibly everything else? But, y'know, that first?"

Calum grins, nodding. "Of course, babe. I'm good at everything, remember?"

She groans aloud. "And just when I think you're actually being helpful..."

"I am!" He exclaims. "What about this isn't helpful?"

"Jesus...You're such an idiot."

"I'm not, shut the fuck up."

"You are. That's why I've saved you in my phone as 'Idiot.' You're welcome."

"What? What? That's what you have me in your phone as?"

"Yep," she grins smugly. "Why? What'm I in yours?"

"Princess."

"Fuck you, Calum."

"That's not as bad as 'Idiot.' I'm not even an idiot. That's Michael."

"Who?"

"My friend. The one with the hair..." He shakes his head. "Doesn't matter. Let's just," and he runs his hand through his hair, "Let's  just get this done."

"Sounds good to me," Royce nods, and she pulls out her books. "Now, rate of change, though..."

So, Calum opens his text book and turns to the review section and the two of them each read the first AP problem.

The rate at which rainwater flows into a drainpipe is modeled by the function R, where R(t) = 20sin(t^2/35) cubic feet per hour, t is measured in hours, and 0 is less than or equal to t, which is less than or equal to 8.

The pipe is partially blocked, allowing water to drain out the other end of the pipe at a rate modeled by D(t) = -0.04t^3 + 0.4t^2 + 0.96t cubic feet per hour, for 0 to be less than or equal to t, which is less than or equal to 8. There are 30 cubic feet of water in the pipe at time t = 0.

There are four questions.

(a) How many cubic feet of rainwater flow into the pipe during the 8-hour time interval 0 < t < 8 ?

(b) Is the amount of water in the pipe increasing or decreasing at time t = 3 hours? Give a reason for your answer.

(c) At what time t, 0 < t < 8, is the amount of water in the pipe at a minimum? Justify your answer.

(d) The pipe can hold 50 cubic feet of water before overflowing. For t > 8, water continues to flow into and out of the pipe at the given rates until the pipe begins to overflow. Write, but do not solve, an equation involving one or more integrals that gives the time w when the pipe will begin to overflow.

And Royce reads the problem and then re-reads it and then re-reads it again.

She thought she was good at math, because she did test into this AP.

But this shit?

What!?

This is the first question Royce and Calum read for their review, and while Calum is able to write immediately, Royce is staring at him because she has no idea what she's just read because she swears it's in a different language.

"Calum?"

He looks up. "Yeah?"

Royce shakes her head tapping her pencil against the problem. "What. The. Fuck?"

He laughs, and she pouts, and he thinks she actually looks adorable pouting.

His eyes linger on her lips. "Don't worry," he says, reaching out to pat her arm because he just wants to touch her. "I'm gonna show you how to do it."

Royce pulls her bottom lip between her teeth. "Okay..."

"Seriously, Royce," he says, because she looks nervous and he really wants to put her at ease. Why? He doesn't really know...but her lips look so fucking full and so fucking soft.

He taps her. "Honestly, I'll show you," he looks around the table. "You have a graphing calculator?"

And Royce turns around, feeling around for her things and tapping her papers and feeling beneath her books and overturning the other shit scattered across the table.

"Damn," she mutters. "I think it's up in my room."

"Well?" Calum rises from his seat and stretches. "Field trip. Let's go."

Royce shrugs. She needs this break from Calculus, because she's stressed out and seriously thinking she's going to fail, and also she doesn't exactly trust Calum alone in her house.

Not with her awkward Middle School pictures around.

"Okay," she says. "Follow me."

And he does, trailing behind Royce from the kitchen, staring at her hair and her ass in those cutoff jean shorts as she leads him up the stairway beside the laundry room and up to the second floor.

And into her bedroom.

Royce is thinking that she's hella glad she cleaned up beforehand.

Calum is thinking he can't wait to get inside her bedroom.

And inside, his head is on a swivel, eyes taking in the surroundings as he swears to commit everything to memory.

"Wow," Calum smirks, as Royce leads him inside.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes as she looks around for the tote she uses for school.

"It's really...really girly in here."

"Well," Royce snorts, as Calum looks around at the white walls and pink bedsheets and pink pillows and stuffed animals and then he takes in Polaroid pictures and band posters and Christmas lights hanging upon the walls. She's got a vase of roses on the windowsill and a picture of her family on the bedside table. She spots her bag and crosses the floor towards it. "I am a girl, so..."

"Yeah..." And now, Calum's eyes and attention divert from the All Time Low and Green Day and Mayday Parade and My Chemical Romance posters and instead, watches her bend over, digging around the bag for the calculator she soon produces. He's looking at her legs and the skin that shows as her shirt rises and forgets instantly that he wants to ask her about the music taste that's so similar to his own. "I know..."

Royce looks up and sees him staring.

Her hands are on her hips. "What?"

"What?"

She rolls her eyes. "You're staring."

"What? Am not."

"You so were. What the fuck are you staring at?"

"Nothing, chill."

"You're such a liar."

"Am not. Jesus, Royce. Is everything about you?"

She walks towards him. "What were you staring at, Calum?"

"It doesn't fucking matter, Royce. Can we get off this?"

She shrugs. "Yeah, sure."

He lets out a sigh, because what the hell is he going to say? 'Yeah, you caught me. I was staring at your ass in those shorts and wondering what it would be like to take 'em off.'

Yeah, she'd really go for that.

He nods. "Thank you. God, I swear, you're so fucking anal."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, I get why you're a perfectionist. Matter of fact," he smirks, "that's what I'm gonna change your name to in my phone. That's it. Done."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

And as Calum pulls his phone from his pocket, Royce shoves him.

Hard.

And Calum trips and falls upon her bed with a loud 'oomph' over the sound of creaking bedsprings.

Royce can't catch her breath.

"Why-" Calum begins, "Why the fuck are you so strong?"

"Because," Royce laughs - and dammit, she's laughing hard, "It's 'cause I'm perfect, remember?"

"Ha. Lies."

Royce picks up a flower-shaped pillow and slaps him with it.

"Hey!"

"Only nice people get to be in my bedroom."

"I'm always nice to you."

"Perverted doesn't count as nice, Calum."

He scoffs. "I'm not a pervert."

Snake was a pervert.

But, she didn't have to know that.

Royce rolls her eyes. "Right, and I'm not a -"

And Calum shoots upright, tugging Royce's wrist.

She yelps, falling on top of him on her bed. The calculator in her hand falls beside his phone on the floor.

Now, it's his turn to laugh.

"What," she begins, blowing her hair from her eyes with a huff, "is your problem?"

"I'm not a pervert," Calum repeats, noticing how Royce hasn't exactly pushed herself off of him just yet. He also notices how small she is lying on top of him, and Royce notices how one of his hands is resting on the skin exposed upon her back, the other hooking fingers through her belt loops.

She snorts. "You're pretty perverted around me, man."

"Am not," he replies, and he's trying not to stare at her lips but he's not trying that hard.

He's not perverted...

He's just horny as hell.

I mean, he's 17. Sue him.

He licks his own. "I can't help," his voice lowers, "'Cant really help that every time you're around I wanna-"

Royce lets out the breath she'd unconsciously been holding.

"That you wanna what?"

And Calum says a silent 'Fuck it,' and tests his luck, pressing his lips to hers.

__

HAHAHA I LIVE FOR A GOOD OL' CLIFFHANGER.

comment and vote til the next time.

i'm in love with you guys and your response to this story. right now, bc I'm drowning in work, this story and nebula are the only ones i'm updating consistently each week, so sorry bc i know some of you are waiting on the end of charming. promise, it's coming!

go for it || cruisr