you're just you.

you rarely show up to class, which is why you have so many academic debts, and for the first time, you've decided to actually try and understand something (or at least make it look like you are).

“I'm surprised you asked for help," he said, flipping through the textbook to find the right page.

"why is that?”

“well, you act and live like someone who doesn't need any of this. you know, studying and all that. you have more freedom in that regard."

you shrugged. "unfortunately, the principal didn't really appreciate that."

he chuckled in response, picking up a pencil and starting to write down a formula in the notebook. but your eyes were already wandering anywhere but where they were supposed to be.

you were far more captivated by the various posters on his wall, the window, his backpack in the corner of the room and, of course, the slight mess around his room.

Peter couldn't think of a better way to get your attention, so the first thing that crossed his mind was to cup your chin with his fingers and turn your face back toward him.

"are you even listening?" he asked softly. "focus." right after saying those words, he gently tapped the top of your head with pencil.