Pedro resisted the urge to make a paper airplane and aim it at the back of Augusta's head. He knew it was a childish thing to do, but pissing her off during lessons was something he enjoyed doing.

"Are you following?" Augusta asked.

Pedro nodded. "Yeah. Absolutely. Carry on."

Augusta shook her head in disbelief, but continued writing and explaining the maths question she was solving on the board.

Eight weeks after their chaotic meet and greet, Augusta and Pedro had settled into a problematic arrangement. Augusta had band practice on Tuesdays and Pedro had football practice on Wednesday and Thursday. She worked part time at her parents organic food store on Fridays and Sundays. He did cardio and weight training on Mondays. Neither of them were interested in changing their schedules.

Denning came at Pedro with guns blazing, so he was forced to back down. With great reluctance, Pedro agreed to work out on Sundays and Augusta switched to Wednesday and Thursday for work. To outsiders it appeared to be a fair compromise. Augusta and Pedro thought otherwise.

Considering each other disruptors of schedules, they drove each other nuts.

"Who the heck uses this crap in real life?" Pedro huffed. He threw his hands in the air and rolled his eyes. "Has anyone ever needed a quadratic equation to make a living?"

Augusta's head snapped in his direction. "Actually, throwing a ball and diving from a platform are real life activities that can be modeled by quadratic equations," she replied in a cool voice laced with ice.

Pedro closed his eyes to stifle an eye roll. He doubted any athlete gave a damn about a squared variable or a freaking graph. "Sure, Augusta."

"Positive. Sport is more scientific than you realize."

"Really. That's good to know, Augusta. Even a broken clock is right twice a day."

"You're welcome, Pedro. Some things look ridiculous from the outside. Imagine someone putting a helmet and heavy padding on before deliberately getting bashed and tackled by huge opponents. Just to struggle for a tiny ball." She shrugged in distaste. "It seems kinda barbaric. Doesn't it?"

"How could you over simplify the art of football like that?" Pedro hissed.

Augusta pouted and talked in a baby voice. "Aww. Does it hurt? Would you like a juice box or a cookie?"

It was a good thing they had their private lessons in a glass study cubicle at the school library. All eyes were on them, and they would get detention or worse for fighting. Who knew how heated their arguments would get elsewhere?

Pedro scowled but did not respond to her diss. Augusta smirked, and continued gesticulating as she explained the equations step by step.

"What did I say just now?" Augusta asked.

"What did I say just now," he replied tongue in cheek.

Pedro fixed a cool gaze on Augusta. She had her hands on her hips, and she pursed unimpressed lips at him. The whiteboard Augusta was using for his lesson was covered in quadratic equations.

He suppressed a chuckle. For a moment her frown of disapproval looked cute.

Augusta scoffed. "Ha! Ha! Wise guy. What did I say before that?"

"You said four ways to solve a quadratic equation are factoring, completing the square, the quadratic formula and graphing," Pedro replied.

Augusta stepped back and flared her eyes as her hands flew to her chest in shock. "Wow! That's incredible," she said.

"Damn," Pedro muttered. "I don't know if I should feel flattered or insulted."

He rolled his eyes. Augusta did not have to make it so obvious she thought he was an airhead. Pedro knew he was far from that. And it bothered him that for a split second he wanted to prove it to her.

To be candid, he despised her air of academic superiority, but enjoyed her style of teaching. Her passion for science made her lessons more engaging than his regular classes. Pedro kept his thoughts to himself though. He knew she would be smug and make a big deal out of it.

Augusta walked towards him and bent over his table. With both hands spread out and flattened on the surface, she looked into his eyes. "I want to see you solve one of the questions in chapter nine of the textbook," she retorted. Her eyes twinkled with mischief at the challenge.

Pedro did not break eye contact and he smirked. "You think I can't do it."

"You're wrong, Pedro. I think there are plenty of things you can do if you're up for it."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Really."

"Can I use any method I like?" Pedro asked. His voice deepened several octaves. "Come in at any angle?"

Augusta returned to the whiteboard and offered him her red marker. "I'm open minded. Let me see what you're working with, Milian." Her tiny, almost indiscernible lip bite indicated her understanding of his innuendo.

Pedro rose to his feet and took the marker from Augusta. He brushed his fingers against hers as he did, and was pleased to see her hand tremble before she shoved it into her pocket. Augusta stepped back to give him space.

"Don't believe it, just watch," Pedro sang, mimicking Bruno Mars as he wiped the board clean with a duster. In slow, circular movements.

Augusta folded her arms, and stood on standby. Her sharp eyes waited for his next move.

"What are you waiting for?" Pedro asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Go and sit down, Augusta. I'm solving this question, you can have a seat as you watch."

Pedro observed Augusta fighting to suppress a smile, but it tugged her lips apart and she grinned. "Okay, sir," she replied. "The floor is yours," she added before sitting.

Pedro was breath taken. He had never seen her smile before, and his mind was dazed by the sudden brightness of it. Her flawless teeth were framed by full, deep red lips. Augusta was the last person on Earth he would ever believe could render him speechless with just a grin.

Don't say something stupid. Don't be a simp.

"I wish you could smile more often," he admitted.

Damn. Way to go, doofus. He scolded himself internally.

Augusta leaned back in the chair and made herself more comfortable before responding. "So do I, Pedro. I've got alot on my mind and the Performing Arts night is just fourteen days away."

Pedro considered asking what else was on her mind before he cautioned himself. Hoping he looked empathetic and not indifferent, Pedro nodded. They were from different social circles and before now their paths had not crossed. For the first time ever, he imagined what it must be like to be a social outcast just because you looked a certain way, were smart, well behaved or ugly by high school standards.

Pedro wasn't a jerk who picked on anyone, but some guys and girls on his social radar did. His reign as the main guy at Roseview High was effortless. Natural good looks and stellar football skills put the crown on his head. Other people weren't as lucky to have a nice time in high school. He wondered if it were just the usual school drama or some other issues that bothered her.

Before solving a random question in chapter nine, Pedro squared his shoulders. "I'd like to use the quadratic formula method," he said.

"Good choice," Augusta agreed. "I'm glad to see your eyes opening," she added.

Considering that Pedro was thinking of the high school experience and life from a different angle, her words had a deeper meaning than she realized. It startled him that for the first time ever, he cared. He could not figure out why.

Have you ever had a sudden moment to see life from another person's view? What did you do about it?