Free Hacked by Tracy Alexander Page A

you’re Einstein and I’m starting again and I’ve only got a few weeks to get better results than you.’
    ‘What are you talking about, Dan?’
    ‘I’m reinventing myself. Ruby doesn’t want a scumbag boyfriend, so he’s history and I’m going to work and get good results. But I’m behind so you’re my tutor.’
    ‘Are you serious?’
    ‘Absolutely.’
    He budged up and we got on with it. He had a system going – read all about the topic, answer the questions in the book, sift through the past papers (all printed off ready), answer all the questions on that topic, check the mark scheme. He knew way more than me but I could see that a few days (or weeks) with Ty and some serious effort and I’d be clutching a fistful of As like him.
    When we’d done valences, limestone and mole calculations, he allowed us a break.
    ‘Do you feel OK?’ I asked. I was on his bed. He was on the desk chair. It had occurred to me that the rigorous revision system was to make up for his brain being shaken.
    ‘You mean my head?’
    I nodded.
    ‘Mostly. Get a few headaches.’
    ‘Do you remember anything about it?’
    He shook his head. The scar was only just visibleabove his eyebrow now.
    ‘Did you really track the van that hit me?’ he asked.
    ‘Yes, but it parked in between hundreds of other white vans at a rental place.’
    ‘Thanks anyway.’
    I paused. Not like Ty to condone illegal activities.
    ‘You wouldn’t be thanking a member of “the criminal underclass”?’
    ‘That was the old you,’ he said.
     
    I walked home feeling surprisingly good given that I was newly single and wounded. It was five and a half weeks till my first exam. I was going to surprise everyone by getting the sort of grades that make people hate you (more). I could see myself in sixth form, spending my free periods with Ruby – Pay As You Go forgotten, personal statement riddled with noble acts of volunteering and other interests (TBA), bright future guaranteed.
    The feeling lasted all week. I caught up on my homework, sat at the front in classes, went to the revision sessions at lunchtime, taught Aiden – who’d developed a crush on me – the whole geography syllabus in the gaps, and studied with Ty in the evenings. I nearly made a timetable, but there are limits! Everyone noticed, from my teachers to my parents to El, who declared me a nerd.
    On Friday, the last day of term, Ruby agreed to go to the café with me.
    ‘Just friends?’ she said.
    ‘That’s your call,’ I said.
    ‘Don’t make it difficult, Dan.’
    ‘I’m not. I meant that I’m here, waiting … working, in fact, so when you decide I
am
perfect boyfriend material, just say.’
    I flashed her a huge smile. Not hard to do.
    She thumped my arm, and I grabbed her hand on its way back and we walked along like that. Nothing else happened, but I’m a patient sort. And anyway, I had no time for girls – there were Newton’s Laws of Motion to nail.
    I strolled home, full of hot chocolate and brownie, looking forward to a couple of weeks off school, and sure of my plan to win back Ruby. The contentment was brief. The butterfly effect was about to produce devastating news. I had fifteen hours until meltdown.

22
    Saturday morning. No need to get up. No need to get up for seventeen days. I opened my eyes, noted the sunlight streaming in through the gap in my blue checked curtains, thought for a while. Random … nothing … scattered …
    Get up, Dan. Work to do.
    I poured the milk up to the rim of my bowl and dropped in one Weetabix – no splash. I ate it quickly and then dropped in a second. This carried on until the milk to whole-wheat ratio resulted in a dry bowl. Very satisfying. I shoved my glass, bowl and spoon in the dishwasher and went upstairs. Everything nice and normal.
    I logged onto Facebook, which I detest, but had started using to promote my new image (to Ruby) through deadly dull exam-based updates like:
    is trigonometry any use in the real