《Mr. Right? ✔》Mr. Right? | 12

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"We're supposed to be discussing the project," Alexander reminded me. "We have only around twenty minutes left and we haven't even come up with a rough idea about what the main focus of our project should be. If we don't get this done now, Mr. Harrison will-"

"You sound like my mom," I noted, drumming my fingers against the desk. "And you know I suck at trigonometry, right?"

"Damn, why did I agree to working with you again?" he groaned, massaging his temples out of frustration.

"Relax, I'm pretty sure you can come up with something," I reassured.

"Me? We're a team, dimwit," he snorted. "Alright, how about we make a report explaining how trigonometry is involved in celestial mechanics? We could get into detail about the role it plays and how celestial mechanics would be without the presence of trigonometry."

"What's celestial mechanics?" I questioned, tilting my head.

He let out a deep sigh that reflected his growing annoyance, squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment and then clasped his hands on the table and leaned in closer, "Do you even know what trigonometry is?"

"Triangles?" I responded.

"Yes, what about triangles?" he urged.

I opened my mouth to respond, however the way in which he was staring at me was making it difficult for me to even think, "Um.. the angles and the lengths of the side of- I don't know."

"You're right," he stated with a small grin. The creases in his forehead had disappeared, signifying that he had begun to calm down a little. "Do you know how to solve any of the equations in trigonometry?"

"I don't think so," I shrugged. "I'm dumb."

"You're not, trigonometry isn't always easy to grasp," he reassured before writing down a random equation on the desk with his pencil. He tapped the desk with the end of the pencil, "Solve this."

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"Sure?" I responded, taking the pencil from him and quickly working out whatever I could understand or come up with in that moment. However, with him staring at me, it was extremely difficult to focus on the equation at hand. My hands were even shaking because of how nervous I was - it reminded me of when my mom used to keep me up till way past midnight teaching me Mathematics at the coffee table back when I was in elementary school. She used to scream at me every single time I got a problem wrong - which was not really my fault. How was I supposed to know what six plus twenty seven equalled? I wasn't born with Einstein's brain, ugh.

"Relax," I heard him say. "I'm not going to bite you."

"Could've fooled me from the way you're staring at me," I scoffed.

Finally, I was done. I leaned back against my chair and handed the pencil back over to him and wiped my sweaty palms on the material of my pants. He scanned what I'd written down with a raised brow and looked up at me with a lopsided grin, "The answer's two seventy degrees."

"Isn't that what I got?"

"You wrote negative five thousand," he snorted. "An angle being negative five thousand degrees? Come on, Kairo."

"Hmm," I began. I tried to come up with a reasonable explanation to excuse my dumbness, however my eyes landed on the little scar he had above his eyebrow once again - something I'd concluded that he got from that accident he'd had in the football field. "Hey, you used to be in the football team, right?"

"Yes, why?" he questioned, beginning to erase what we'd written down on the table.

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"Why don't you try getting back into it? I heard that you were really good at it."

"Why does that concern you?"

"I just.. I don't know," I responded pathetically. "But I don't think you should throw away a hobby that you had just because of an accident that happened. From what I've heard from Ethan, he said you were one of the best players they ever had."

"I fucked up in more ways than one while being on the football team," he said, clearing his throat. "I'd rather not relive all that again."

"Who says you'll have to be reliving bad memories?" I inquired. "You can make new memories, can't you?"

He didn't respond and went back to erasing the mess on the table. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, an idea popped into my mind. I leaned in closer towards him and snatched the pencil from him so I could have his attention. When I succeeded in doing so, I began, "How about.. I finish the entire trigonometry project by myself? Will you agree to begin getting back into football again then?"

I expected some sort of reprimanding, but he leaned back against his chair and tilted his head at me, "Am I allowed to propose some conditions?"

"Go right ahead," I said with an excited grin.

"You'll have to study trigonometry and then do the project by yourself. You'll also have to score an A on the project and I'll test your knowledge after you're done with the project. If you manage to convince me that you've mastered trigonometry, then I'll begin practising football again."

I swallowed.

What the fuck? Was this military training?

"Deal?" he questioned, sticking his hand out for me to shake.

I examined the smug look he had on his face with squinted eyes before letting out a deep breath and shaking his hand, "Deal."

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