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Posted: Sat Jan 14, 2012 2:32 pm
Paris had never been good at math. Easy things had never been a problem. Addition, subtraction, basic division and multiplication—those were generally simple and solved in seconds. But long equations and word problems often went over his head, and so when he sat down to do some studying on the couch in Chris’s living room, he’d expected to run into a few issues.
His old habits were quick to return to him. The minute he opened up his study book and began scribbling away, it suddenly seemed very important that he should bombard Ladon with texts about nothing in particular. Then he thought it might help him concentrate if he had a bit of music playing, but it turned out to have the opposite effect, as he soon found himself boisterously singing along to the soundtrack of Moulin Rouge while doodling random pictures in the empty spaces of his book. Soon after that, Annabel came over for some attention—which he was only too happy to give her—and Sassy climbed up onto the arm of the couch to make her presence known as well, earning pets and cuddles and a good ten minutes of his time.
By the time an hour had gone by, Paris had only finished two problems.
His goal was twenty.
He turned determinedly back to his book, scribbling and erasing and scribbling again, only to come to the conclusion that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing.
“Christopheeeeeeeerr,” he whined, dropping his pencil onto the coffee table and lowering his head on top of his book with a ‘thunk.’
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Posted: Sat Jan 14, 2012 6:51 pm
It was obvious that Chris and Paris did not share the same discipline when it came to studying and homework. Chris spent extra care in making sure everything he needed to know was carefully typed out, put on flash cards, or even made practice tests for himself to ensure that he retained the information. He kept everything sorted out into their respective piles, but not so obsessively that his desk didn't start to look a bit cluttered if he wasn't keeping up with everything, but for the most part he was fairly organized.
His drafts and blueprints were all carefully sorted into separate tubes or spread out onto the drafting table, and it was there that he had been working when Paris called for him. Whined, rather... but he got up from the table regardless.
"Are you okay?" he asked, slightly concerned and confused, wondering what Paris could possibly be needing him for. "What's wrong? Are you having trouble?"
He knew that Paris was trying to study math, but... he wasn't too sure how it was going from the state of the papers on the table.
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Posted: Sat Jan 14, 2012 7:11 pm
Paris was pretty sure Chris had been hiding out in his “office” as a way to avoid dealing with him in his homework-induced depression, and nothing his boyfriend could say would convince him otherwise.
Who seriously had their own office when they were only nineteen anyway?
It was clearly a plot to keep Paris out of his hair.
“Christopheeeeeeeeeeeerr,” he whined again, dragging the word out longer for effect. He lifted his head to turn a pout onto his boyfriend, making sure he looked extra pathetic. “I don’t know what I’m doing. This is too hard. Why am I doing this again? Everyone knows I suck. Math is so dumb anyway.”
He lowered his head back onto his book with another ‘thunk.’ “I wish I wasn’t so stupid,” he said, lifting and lowering his head in a series of ‘thunk’s, as if that would somehow force his brain into working order, when it was really probably only killing off more brain-cells.
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Posted: Sun Jan 15, 2012 6:58 am
Well, there was that... Paris wasn't exactly the quietest person to study around. Chris had tried to keep the door open so he could make sure he wasn't being called for, but eventually he put on his headphones to listen to his own music and let Paris run around, playing with the animals and singing to movie soundtracks instead of actually studying.
Chris gave Paris a slightly exasperated look, slowly making his way over to where he was seated on the couch. "Yeah, math is dumb," he mumbled sarcastically. Paris should know that he was taking plenty of math classes and might even switch to a double major, depending on what happens with all this magical stuff going on. He couldn't afford to fail any of his classes.
"What are you having trouble with? Are you doing pre-calc? Or just algebra?" he asked, taking a seat next to his boyfriend and reaching out to take hold of one of his shoulders to prevent him from bashing his head again. "Stop that, you're not going to learn through osmosis, you have to actually do the work.
"Look, this is easy stuff. You just need to apply the right equation to the problem. Is it the word problems? You just have to take the numbers and get rid of the words."
He paused for a few moments, glancing over at Paris with a small sigh. "Do you need help?" He supposed he could help him a bit. He was almost done with his own work, anyway.
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Posted: Sun Jan 15, 2012 8:19 pm
“Do I look smart enough to be able to do pre-calculus?” Paris grumbled, pouting still.
He let Chris pull him up by the shoulder, turning to him with a very sad, very pathetic look on his face. He might be exaggerating a little bit, but he liked the attention. It was sooooo much better than worrying about things he didn’t understand—which, admittedly, was most of his study material, although there were occasionally things that were more self-explanatory.
Inside, he was beginning to freak out and think he just wasn’t cut out for this. Maybe it wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d thought. Maybe he wouldn’t be ready as quickly as he wanted to be. But he didn’t want that to be the case. He didn’t want it to take so much work that he ended up taking more time than he expected and didn’t get back to school for years and years.
“Maybe it’s easy for you,” he argued. “You’re smart. You probably made As your whole life. I just don’t like math. Why should I have to know half of this stuff? If I really wanted to know how much I’d have to spend on hardwood flooring for a room of a certain size, I’d just ask you. You’re the architect.”
Paris scooted closer to Chris and draped himself over him, nearly climbing into his lap with his arms over Chris’s shoulders. “I hate this already and I only just started, but I can’t give up because then I’ll feel like a failure, but it’s so hard and it makes me feel like such a moron for not getting it, and you should just distract me and make me feel better.”
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Posted: Sun Jan 15, 2012 8:42 pm
Chris sputtered when Paris suddenly climbed onto him, holding the papers he'd been looking at out of the way from getting crumpled. He frowned, staring out into the room in exasperation since he couldn't exactly look Paris in the eye now that he was all over him.
"Seriously? Seriously??" he grumbled, although he lifted a hand to place against Paris's head, gently rubbing his scalp. "You're going to feel like a failure if you don't try. It's not that difficult," he insisted, now trying to pry Paris off of him so he would turn around and pay attention to the sheets of paper with the problems on them.
"Paris, I'm not going to distract you and I can't do this with you on me..." he muttered under his breath, giving him another little nudge to push him off completely. "Are you going to accept my help or not?" he asked, pushing the piece of paper back onto the table and leaning over it deciding how he wanted to explain what was happening.
"Just because I'm an architect doesn't mean I know how much you have to spend on hardwood floor," he added, although it was mostly to himself. "There's different kinds of wood to consider, and then the grade of the wood. It's going to be more or less expensive depending... Oh, but this problem just has an estimated-- what kind of wood is this?? This must be some kind of oak floor..."
He never said he wasn't a nerd... it just depended on the topic.
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Posted: Tue Jan 17, 2012 12:06 pm
Paris pouted, because that really seemed like the best reaction to Chris’s pushing and shoving, even though Chris was focusing on the paper instead of looking at him, so he probably didn't even see it.
Which really just made him pout more, because he didn’t care about the stupid paper or any of the problems on it.
Only he did. But he wished he didn’t, because then he wouldn’t have to do this.
“You don’t have to be so mean,” Paris said, allowing Chris to pry him off, though once he did Paris just flopped onto the couch in the other direction, shoving his legs over Chris’s lap and grabbing a pillow to pull it over his face, as if the study material would cease to exist of he simply didn’t have to see that it was there. “This is stupid. Those problems are pointless. I’m a dancer. I don’t need to know any of this crap.”
It was one of the major points he’d hated about school, that he’d had to waste so much time and effort on things that, in the long run, probably weren’t going to benefit him at all. He thought college would be better, because then he could focus on scheduling classes he could actually make use of, though he knew even then he wouldn’t be able to escape math completely. He’d probably still be required to take at least one class.
“A little more sympathy would be nice,” Paris continued, his voice slightly muffled beneath the pillow. He was quickly falling into a foul mood. “Not everyone’s as smart as you are.”
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Posted: Wed Feb 08, 2012 5:43 pm
"Everyone has to do this, Paris," he said, trying not to sound too exasperated, lifting his arms out of the way when legs were suddenly placed in his lap. He shot his boyfriend an unimpressed look, before glancing back down at the pages in front of him.
"I'll be sympathetic if you actually show you're trying. You've been listening to music and cleaning instead of studying," he mumbled, picking up the pencil that had been left on the table. "And believe me, I'm not that smart. I just pay attention to what's going on and study the ma-- will you sit up??" he snapped, although he regretted it the moment he did it. His mouth clamped shut and eyebrows furrowed, Chris stared at the paper as if that would somehow help the situation.
"Sorry," he grumbled, shifting uncomfortably on the couch. "This is why I don't offer to tutor all that much." He had a decent amount of patience, but when he reached his limit, well... there wasn't much padding to keep him from lashing out.
Chris let out a small sigh, glancing over to Paris once more, a little more gentle in his expression. "I'm sorry. Sit up and I'll help you work through it, okay? You're probably right, and you won't need to know this later on in your career, but you need to pass this exam if you want to get into college."
There really wasn't any other way around it, and he knew that Paris knew that. They could only do their best.
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Posted: Mon Feb 13, 2012 4:15 pm
“I am trying,” Paris insisted, mumbling behind the pillow he’d dragged into place over his face, hiding behind it for a little while longer before he shoved it aside to frown at his boyfriend’s snapping. “And I don’t think your attitude is really necessary. I already feel like crap without you making it worse.”
He was beginning to think he’d rushed into things. He knew he’d like to go back to school—or at least he thought he liked the idea, though now he was beginning to wonder if perhaps he was expecting more than he’d really get out of it. Even still, it wasn’t like him to just give up. He had to try now that he’d made the decision to do it, it would simply take a lot of struggling along the way. He could only hope that this would be the hardest part, and that once he’d taken the exam and gotten his GED and applied to school and hopefully gotten accepted, things would be a little easier.
He just had to get through all the boring stuff that had made his high school days so miserable.
“Okay,” he finally said, pushing himself up and swinging his legs off of Chris’s lap so that he could sit beside him, close enough for the sides of their thighs to touch but not so close that he was getting in the way. He struggled for every last shred of concentration and focus he could find, turning his attention back to his study materials as he fortified himself against misery and boredom.
“I just hate feeling so stupid all the time. How come it’s so easy for other people but not for me? What if it’s like this when I actually go back to school and I just end up dropping out again?”
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Posted: Fri Mar 23, 2012 9:25 am
Chris let out a short, almost exasperated sigh, staring at Paris as he finally righted himself. Yeah, he knew he shouldn't be snapping at him when he was trying to figure things out, but he didn't have to make things more difficult, especially when he was trying to help him.
"You're not stupid, we all just have different strengths," he said, but he figured Paris already knew that. "Why do you think I suck at English classes, or need a tutor for my French class?" he wondered with a shrug, "I had to help Daniel throughout high school with his math, and he helped me with my english and literature. Trust me, Paris... it's just the way you think about things. Once we figure out what a good way for you to learn is, then it'll be better."
At least that was the theory. But he was definitely trying to be nicer about this. He knew hoe it was to struggle with things, and he didn't want to be the jerk who was unsympathetic when asked for help... Not that he thought he was being unsympathetic... he just needed to be more patient towards Paris's frustrations.
"Let's work on breaking down word problems, okay? It'll be easier once you take away all the words and just have the math to deal with."
(Omg, I'm so sorry, I completely forgot I needed to tag this! LOL orz;; )
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Posted: Fri Mar 23, 2012 10:50 am
Paris narrowed his eyes and stuck a “let’s do this” sort of frown on his face, and kept his eyes glued to his papers and workbook as Chris tried to explain things to him. He figured his boyfriend had a point when he said different people learned differently and had different strengths—Paris already knew exactly what he was good at—and so long as they found a good way for him to grasp the concepts he’d be okay, but Paris was pretty sure math was his greatest weakness. He expected nothing would help him indefinitely.
He tried to be good and not whine anymore, because he was really too old for that and he had a feeling his whining got pretty annoying for Chris. If he kept it up he’d start inadvertently pressing Chris’s buttons, and then the “Damn it, Paris” would come out and Chris would probably stomp off to go back to his office and sit in peace. As much as Paris didn’t think anything was going to help him with these problems, he wanted to keep Chris around for as long as possible, because the company was better than struggling through it alone.
Eventually they managed to work their way through a few more problems—mostly with Chris writing things down and Paris copying what he did. He listened and watched closely, and by the time they’d gotten halfway through Paris was able to attempt the problems on his own. The going was slow and it took a while for his brain to come up with the proper responses, but after another hour and a half or so he had a completed set of twenty problems sitting in front of him.
He flopped back onto the couch with a groan once he’d reached his goal. If it hadn’t been so difficult he might have continued on and done a few more, but his head hurt and he was mentally exhausted. He didn’t think he could do any more tonight.
“Uuggghhh, that was torture,” he complained now that he wouldn’t risk riling Chris’s temper. He’d done what he was supposed to, so his boyfriend should be proud.
He turned a pair of sad, tired eyes onto Chris, staring up at him while lying on the couch. “Thanks for helping. Sorry I was a brat. You can go finish your homework now and I’ll put something together for dinner. Unless you just want to order out.”
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Posted: Fri Mar 23, 2012 11:07 am
He placed his pen down on the table as Paris flopped over once more, but he was indeed proud of him. Paris had done all the problems with just a bit of help, but finished them none the less.
"We can order out," he said, shifting on the couch so he could reach into his backpocket and pull out his wallet, tossing it towards Paris. "You order, though. Chinese or something, I'm not really feeling pizza right now," he grinned, leaning over his boyfriend long enough to give him a quick kiss before straightening back up.
"I'm sorry for getting frustrated," Chris said once it was his turn to apologize, feeling like a jerk for getting so worked up over something like helping Paris with math. "Math isn't something you can just memorize, anyway. The best thing you can do is work on it and then rest. It's knowing how to apply the formulas, rather than remembering every little bit. So... take a break and relax, okay? We'll work on some more in a couple days."
That should give Paris enough time to get his brain to calm down and not stress out so much about it.
He could have done a lot worse, really. Even though Paris thought it was horrible, he really wasn't as bad as some others were in math. He was doing just fine for what he was trying to accomplish, Chris thought.
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Posted: Fri Mar 23, 2012 11:18 am
Paris grabbed Chris’s wallet as it was tossed to him, but he didn’t get up right away. He watched Chris rise and grumbled a little bit about how stupid math was, though he kept those complaints mostly for himself since he knew his boyfriend was only trying to help. He was glad he actually had someone who would help him when he needed it, and he didn’t want to push his luck and annoy Chris so much that he swore never to help him again.
He kissed Chris back and flopped around on the couch some more to make himself more comfortable, staring over at his papers and the workbook that still littered the coffee table before reaching over to flip the workbook shut and stack everything up into a neat pile.
Maybe he’d try again tomorrow.
Well, he had to if he wanted to keep on track and take his exam when he planned to, but he at least liked to present himself with the delusion that he might actually be able take a day off here and there. Maybe tomorrow he’d try to do double the work so he could take a bit of a break the day after.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Paris finally hoisted himself up off the couch to dig around in one of the kitchen drawers for the Chinese food menu.
There wasn’t any use moping around about it now. He had plenty left to go.
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