The Upper East Side Heirs Are Obsessed With Me

Math Help

The boy in front of her stood up.

He walked to the board, picked up the chalk, and started writing almost without stopping. One line, two lines, three, every step clean and logical, his handwriting so neat it could’ve been a font.

In under two minutes he put the chalk down and turned to face the class.

Mr. Howard looked at the board and nodded. “Correct. And a beautiful solution. Mr. Chen is captain of this year’s Science Olympiad team, by the way, so if you’ve got questions, he’s your guy.”

Jiashu went back to his seat without looking at a single person.

Isabella stared at the back of his head.

“See that?” Susie leaned in, voice barely a whisper. “He can actually do the problems! Smart and hot. How is that not the full package?”

“Okay, okay, you win, Susie!”

“Can you do it?” Susie pointed at the board.

Isabella went quiet.

She couldn’t.

She couldn’t do a single one.

“Exactly,” Susie said, very meaningfully. “Knowing how to do the problems is a skill, you know.”

Isabella slumped a little. Isabella Blanchett, the Upper East Side’s brightest new star. Total math disaster.

When the bell rang, she nearly sobbed with relief.

Mr. Howard assigned eight problems, due tomorrow.

Eight.

She couldn’t do any of them.

“Lunch?” Susie zipped up her bag.

“Go ahead,” Isabella said. “I’m gonna sit here a minute.”

Susie gave her a look, didn’t ask, and waved on her way out.

People filed out of the classroom one by one, until it was just Isabella and the back in front of her, still writing.

Jiashu showed no sign of leaving.

He was writing something. Just writing and writing, like the outside world had nothing to do with him.

Isabella stared at the back of his head for thirty seconds.

Then she made a decision.

She stood up, walked over to his desk, and knocked on it.

Jiashu looked up.

Behind the gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes were calm. No surprise, no confusion, no extra expression at all.

“Yes?” he said.

Isabella reached out and pointed at the first problem in his textbook. “Can you show me how to do this one, handsome?”

He glanced down at the problem, then back up at her.

“That’s number one,” he said. “It’s a basic problem.”

“I know. I just can’t do it. Sorry,” Isabella said.

He was quiet for two seconds.

Then: “You can’t do any of it?”

Isabella wanted to argue, but the words went back down her throat.

“Nope,” she said. “Not a thing.”

Jiashu looked at her, like he was checking whether she was telling the truth.

“Sit,” he said.

Isabella blinked. “What?”

“You want to learn, right?” He nodded at the chair beside him. “Sit. I’ll show you.”

Isabella stared at him for two seconds.

Then she sat.

Sunlight came through the window and fell across the desk, across the open textbook, across his long fingers.

Jiashu picked up his pen and drew a circle around the first problem.

His voice was flat, with no ups and downs, like he was reading straight out of the textbook. But for some reason, Isabella found she could actually follow it.

Maybe because he wasn’t giving her that “how do you not know this?” look.

Maybe because he was just explaining the problem, with nothing else attached.

Maybe because...

“Got it?” he asked.

Isabella snapped out of it. “...Huh?”

He looked at her. No sigh, no eye roll. He just picked up his pen and went through it again.

Slower this time.

The afternoon sun filled the classroom, falling on two teenagers.

One explaining, one listening.

Somewhere around problem five, footsteps sounded in the doorway.

Isabella looked up.

Victoria was standing there with two of her hangers-on behind her. Her gaze swept the room, landed on Isabella and Jiashu, and her mouth curved into a smile.

“Hi, Little Isa! Oh, you’re busy.”

Isabella waved. “Hi!”

Jiashu didn’t move. He didn’t even look up.

“I already covered how to approach this one,” he went on, tapping the page with his pen. “Look at this step again.”

Isabella looked down at the problem.

Victoria stood in the doorway for two seconds, gave a small laugh, and left.

Her footsteps faded down the hall.

Isabella lifted her head, glanced at the empty doorway, then at the boy beside her, still bent over the page, still explaining.

Thank God. She actually felt like she was starting to get it.