The library was quiet that afternoon, sunlight streaming through the large windows and dust particles swirling lazily in the air. You sat at a corner table, your math textbook spread open before you, surrounded by crumpled pages of failed calculations. Your pencil hovered uselessly above the paper, your brain stuck in a frustrating fog.

No matter how many times you reread the problem, the answer seemed impossible to grasp. Algebra, geometry, calculus none of it had ever come easily to you, but today felt worse than usual. You sighed in defeat and began gathering your books, ready to admit that maybe today just wasn’t the day.

As you shoved your notebook into your bag, a shadow passed over the table.

“You having trouble with that, huh?”

Startled, you looked up to see Bryan Dechart standing there, hands casually tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He wore a friendly smile, one that didn’t carry even a hint of judgment. Everyone knew Bryan one of the smartest guys in school, the kind of person teachers raved about and classmates admired. The fact that he was effortlessly brilliant while being genuinely nice made it impossible to even dislike him.

You managed a sheepish nod. “Yeah… math’s never been my thing.”

He tilted his head toward the chair opposite you. “Mind if I take a look? Maybe I can help.”

You hesitated for a second before gesturing toward the seat. “Sure, I guess. Thanks.”

Bryan sat down, pulling the textbook toward him. His eyes scanned the problem quickly, and he let out a thoughtful hum. “Ah, I see what’s messing you up. This part here,” he pointed with the tip of your pencil, “you’re multiplying when you should be factoring first.”