Miss Brooklyn left us in an empty classroom, her departing words echoing as she shut the door with a resounding thud. "Oh, if you students need anything else, feel free to ask."
Silence enveloped the room, broken only by the sound of our mutual breaths.
Valentina and I exchanged a glance, our eyes tracing the path of Miss Brooklyn's exit, her departure leaving an unspoken tension in the air.
Valentina's frustration was palpable as she rolled her eyes and sighed. "Great," she muttered, clearly displeased with the situation thrust upon us.
"I could do them myself," she added in a low voice, claiming a desk by the window while I remained uncertain of how to proceed.
Ignoring her disapproving shake of the head, I fetched a chair and placed it opposite her desk.
My actions seemed to irk her further, but I persisted, silently clearing my throat before meeting Valentina's gaze once more.
Her presence intrigued me; there was something about her connection to Thomas that piqued my curiosity, compelling me to assist her despite the awkward circumstances.
"Shall we begin with integrals, or...?" I started, but Valentina's glare halted my words mid-sentence.
"I can do integrals that witch just babbled about without knowing a damn thing about me," she retorted sharply, her frustration evident. She seemed to referring to Rena.
Raising my hands in surrender, I sighed. "Okay, so are there any problems you're stuck on?" I inquired, meeting her intense gaze head-on.
An uncomfortable silence lingered between us, punctuated only by the intensity of our locked eyes.
I couldn't shake the feeling that I had somehow erred her, unsure of how to proceed as Valentina continued to scrutinize me with her piercing blue eyes.
Suddenly, a thud took me out from my thoughts, prompting an internal flinch. Glancing toward the source of the noise, I noticed the textbook, 'Pure Mathematics 3', now resting on the table.
Relief flooded me as I realized Valentina intended to 'seek guidance on her coursework' rather than resorting to any dubious schemes.
She flipped through the pages before pausing at a particular problem, 'The diagram shows...', her finger tracing the text. "I'm getting the wrong answer," she admitted, her tone a blend of frustration and a subtle challenge.
"Mind pointing out where I went wrong?" she asked, though her words carried an underlying implication beyond a simple request for assistance.
Curious, I leaned in, asking, "Where did you solve it?" Valentina retrieved her notebook, opening it to the relevant page and indicating her attempted solution.
***
After what felt like an eternity spent dissecting problems and meticulously applying the Feynman technique, Valentina's furrowed brows and deepening frown signaled her frustration.
"What?" I prompted, but her response was only a piercing glare followed by a dismissive turn of her head. "It's nothing... Nothing really," she muttered, her words laden with an unspoken tension.
"Did I do something wrong?" I ventured again, bewildered by her sudden change in demeanor.
"Like I said, nothing," she retorted, though her next words carried a hint of dissatisfaction. "Maybe stop hiding the formulas and teach me properly. That way, I wouldn't get stuck."
Taking in her critique, I reassured her, "Your methods and techniques aren't wrong."
Her expression softened slightly, a silent plea for elaboration in her questioning gaze.
"But the way you implement them is," I continued, offering guidance. "You have to essentially decode the question asked."
"And how do I do that, genius?" Valentina's skepticism was palpable, her disbelief evident as she mocked my words, suspecting hidden techniques.
"Well, you need to develop comprehension skills," I explained patiently. "And the best way to do that would be to gain experience. So, you have to solve as many questions as you can."
"Hmm, figures. Oh, you need to develop some sort of skills, and to do that..." Valentina's sarcasm didn't faze me; she possessed all the knowledge, she just need to know how to use them.
It's up to her if she's willing to put in the effort or not. It didn't matter to me.
With a weary sigh, she reclined in her chair, closing her eyes in a momentary escape from the pressures of our study session and the looming midterms.
Seizing the opportunity, I broached the topic of Thomas, seeking answers.
"Are you and Thomas siblings?" I inquired. Valentina's reaction was swift, her gaze piercing as she attempted to decipher my motives.
"Thomas? Never heard of him. You must've mistaken me for someone else," she replied curtly.
"Is that so?" I countered, a knowing glance aimed her way, silently acknowledging the hidden connection between them.
Her silence spoke volumes as she rose, gathering her belongings. Before leaving, she delivered a chilling warning in a cold, low voice.
"A word of advice, if you don't want to get seriously hurt, stay away from me and Thomas if you know what's good for you."
Her eyes, a shade of blueish-purple, from her usual blue.
"Oh, and thank you for teaching me," she added, her words carrying a tinge of sincerity.
— Thud.
As the door to the classroom sealed shut behind us, I sank back into my seat, contemplating the duo before me. "Interesting," I muttered under my breath, thoughts swirling with intrigue.
"Hmm, yes, both of them have some traits things in common," I mused aloud, pondering the layers beneath their perfectly constructed facades.
'Are they really what they showed themselves to be? Definitely not,' I concluded inwardly.
I put my blazer, previously hung on the back of my chair during our study session, and prepared to leave. Following Valentina's silent footsteps, literally silent, I went out of the classroom.
Speeding up a little, so that, I could catch up to her.