Work Text:
Player had been sitting on the couch and staring at his math homework for slightly over an hour.
Despite doing his absolute best to take notes during math class he had no idea how to do any of the questions, nevermind understand what the instructions were telling him to do.
What did 'Evaluate' mean? Were math teachers allergic to giving proper directions?
A single tear ran down his face.
He didn't bother to wipe it away, until it got to his jaw.
He'd managed to wing it and guess at answers well enough that his teacher hadn't noticed he'd been struggling so far, and presentations were manageable.
So far he had just called on people in the class for the next step, and glanced at the teacher's expression out of the corner of his eye to see if it was right.
He'd even got bonus marks for class participation and not looking at his paper too much. If she knew that his answer on his paper was wrong, she probably wouldn't have marked him so well.
Standing up in front of the class was horrible, but not doing the presentations was another kind of hell altogether.
He'd seen the way everyone treated the kid who refused to do presentations.
At least this way his classmates didn't make fun of him or speculate about his grades.
The first unit had thankfully been coding. He'd done well of course, and gotten in his teacher's good books quickly. He'd gotten 100%, where most of the class had barely passed. The worst part of that had been trying to not look too good, though he had learned the basics of a new coding language, and it had been fun.
Unfortunately the current unit was algebra.
Even without mixing up the numbers like 4 and 7 (they didn't even look alike, how was it so hard) algebra would have been a nightmare.
The teacher had a tendency to write things on the board, and he couldn't tell the variable 'x' from a multiplication symbol.
The implied multiplication was horrible, and so was the whole bracket thing.
He hadn't managed to get a single question right all week.
At least he hadn't cried in class like he had at his last school, though if this continued, he wasn't sure how long he'd be able to keep it up for.
The rest of his subjects were manageable, if not easy, but math class was his worst nightmare.
His already purring cat jumped onto the couch and rubbed her face against his hand.
He scratched her behind the ears, and her purring got louder.
She quickly curled up against him, whether to comfort him or for the warmth radiating off his body was anyone's guess.
He belatedly realized he was overheating in his too large hoodie, but didn't take it off.
His dysphoria was already bad, and he'd taken off his binder hours ago.
He stared at his math homework.
Not a single question was done.
He'd been at this for over an hour.
"Whatever," he muttered to himself. "It's not like I'll need this in life."
He shoved the incomplete work back in his folder, feeling like a failure.
He knew this feeling well after the weeks of struggling to do what to everyone else was basically effortless.
He knew what his report card would say, he'd seen it enough times to know what to expect.
". . .Doesn't try enough." "stupid mistakes." "If she"-he. Player reminded himself. Just because his teachers didn't know or wouldn't accept who he was didn't mean he was wrong. He refused to misgender himself, even for the sake of accurate quotes.
"Stupid mistakes," he muttered remembering what many teachers had told him. "Of course if I didn't have a literal disability it'd be easier. That's common sense!" he hadn't realized he'd been yelling until his cat turned to look at him.
"Sorry," he apologized, petting her head gently to calm her down. "Nothing's wrong, I'm fine, just getting worked up over stupid comments from teachers."
After a moment's pause she put her head down, and returned to her nap, confident her human was okay.
Player sighed, then decided wallowing in self pity wasn't going to do anything.
He picked up his phone, and called Carmen.
"Hey," she said once she picked up "how are you doing?"
He knew the correct answer was 'fine' but he wasn't fine, she'd hear it in his voice, and he didn't feel like lying.
"Bad."
"Need me to punch anyone?"
He did a quick google search.
"René Descartes." he said
"Who?"
"She- nope, apparently that's a non gendered name. You learn something new everyday. He came up with using x as a variable even though it's identical to a multiplication sign."
"Right. . ." Carmen said slowly. "And I know exactly what that means."
"Did you not learn algebra?" Player asked her.
"Uh, no." she said. "Never heard of it."
"Lucky. I wish I got your education."
"I'm literally being hunted down by people who want to kill me because of my education."
"Good point."
"Is it really that bad?"
"It is when you have a disability that makes you make 'stupid mistakes'."
"You're not stupid."
"My teachers disagree."
"Player," Carmen warned, "What did I say about being mean to yourself?"
"That it's unproductive and not true."
"Exactly."
"My brain doesn't know the difference between a 4 and a 7."
"So learn it?"
"I logically know that those numbers are different, but that doesn't stop my hand from writing 4 instead of 7, even when I specifically think 4."
"That sounds hard."
"It is, and I don't even realize half the time. And all my teachers just act like I don't even care! And I'm so tired, and I would care if I didn't feel like a complete failure!"
He started cry, and noticed the cat looking at him.
It was her 'why are you being loud, human?' look.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to yell," he said as much to Carmen as to the cat.
"It's okay, that sounds really hard."
"It is." he said as more tears streamed down his cheeks.
His Cat started purring louder.
He quickly wiped them away with the back of his hand.
"I'm sending you a virtual hug." Carmen said
"Thanks Red." he said, with a small smile. She always made him feel better.
"I'm gonna fail math."
"No you won't." Carmen said fiercely.
"I'm pretty sure the numbers disagree. Also I get to deal with half an hour of my math teacher talking about how I'm 'not applying myself' and 'not trying hard enough' even though I am."
He tried to blink back more tears but it was no use.
"Also," he added "I get where you're coming from but encouragement just makes me feel like more of a failure, and like people don't understand how hard this is for me."
"Okay," she says "Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I guess it's just hard for me to wrap my brain around you failing at anything."
They both chuckled a bit at that.
"You're so amazing," she continued "and I want you to remember that, even if you're horrible at this, I don't care, and I'm sure Zach and Ivy don't. And I'll try to remember not to encourage you with this if that's what you need."
"Thank you," Player told her. "I really appreciate it. Also I definitely get enough encouragement at home."
"Got it." she said. "Do you want me to tell zach and Ivy too?"
"Yes please."
"Okay." She yawned.
"Wait! It's like 3am your time. Why did you answer my call? You need to sleep."
"It's fine, really. I was getting some water anyway, but even if I wasn't I'd be happy to talk to you."
"But-" he started.
"Player," she said "My sleep schedule, my choice."
"I'm remembering that."
"Good."
"Good night, red. Sleep well."
"Thanks Player. Hope that meeting isn't too bad, and don't worry about calling me regardless of what time it is for you."
"Okay, bye."
"Bye." she said and he hung up.