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“Uh, nice pictures?”

“Fuck off,” Nat said, and sat on the edge of the bed. “Those are my notes from when I took AP math last year. They're pretty close to what we’re doing now.”

Bren would have liked to pull the blankets over his head, but since he was sitting on them, he settled for a groan. He’d given A.J. the OK to ask Nat and Yu to help him study up on his weaker subjects, but he hadn’t thought that meant he was going to do it today.

“Hang on,” Bren said, holding the notebook sideways like it might make the equations reveal something other than nonsense. “If you’re so good at maths, how come you’re in class with the dumb kids now?”

Nat shrugged.

“Just ’cause I’m good at it doesn’t mean I like it. But A.J. says you need help, so here I am.”

“It’s the second week of term. How do you know I amn’t already pulling a hundred percent?”

“’Cause I’ve seen the face you make when Mrs. Tremblay starts talking. It’s the same one A.J. gets.”

“You know, I kinda wish Yu’s place was the one with the spare room.”

“And I wish A.J.’s boyfriend would stop leaving his socks on the counter,” Nat said with a shudder. “Life’s not fair.”

Nat pulled the comp book from him and thumbed through it. She found a page near the front and flipped it around for Bren to see.

“What kind of equation is this? A.) Linear, B.) Exponential, or C.) Rational.”

Bren squinted at the figures on the page. He knew he should do the exponents first, then move onto the multiplication, but that was it. He also knew he had a one in three chance to shut her up, though, and he’d take those odds.

“Exponen—”

“Bzzzz. Wrong. Hidden answer: D.) Logarithmic.” She tossed the notebook back and this time he caught it. “You and A.J. were making goo-goo eyes at each other when Mrs. Tremblay explained that on Friday.”

“Fuck. Fine. I’m dumb. You wanna let me play CoD now?” Bren asked, wondering if this was what it was like to have a sister.

“You’re not dumb, dude, but you gotta pay attention if you’re trying to stay here.”

An image formed in his mind, one Bren had been doing his best to keep buried since he’d cut the deal with Mam. Heading back to Ireland after one term. The look on Arlo’s face. The airport all over again.

“Fine. Where do we start?”

Nat grinned and turned off the TV before pulling up the beanbag chair from beside the bed.

“First thing’s first. Do you know how to count without using your fingers?”

14

“Ire-land!”

Bren didn’t have time to recover from his right eardrum getting blown out. A hairy mass slammed into his back and he had to brace himself so he didn’t face-plant on the floor. He was trapped under the weight of Dustin’s bare chest.

It had been impossible to miss the lad the moment he’d walked into history class that first day. A full head shorter than him, and he was still the only person Bren knew who could give Brick a run for his money.

“Get your hairy knockers off me!”

He threw an elbow back and used the momentary slack in Dustin’s grip to scramble free. It was a good thing he hadn’t come in earlier, or Bren’s jocks would have still been in his locker. If he shared more than his size with Brick, nakedness would be no deterrent when it came to messing about.

“Not bad. You should try out for hockey after the musical’s done, eh?” Dustin said.

He was rubbing his ribs, but from all the padding he was carrying, Bren was sure they couldn’t be hurting that bad. He’d been forced to change his ideas about the type of people who did musical theater when Arlo pointed out which ones were bound to sign up. But Dustin being one of them felt like the universe making a joke.

“If this is your way of tellin’ me you’re a theater bloke, I’m droppin’ out.”