Dave entered the Glifford Middle School library with a heavy sigh. The scuffed walls, faded 90s-era books, and creaky chairs weren’t exactly inspiring. As he brushed a banana peel off the only usable table, he questioned his decision to pick tutoring over juvie.
“This place is filthy,” he muttered. “With a capital F.”
He slumped into a wobbly chair with rusted legs and a threadbare seat. A court order had landed him here after his ill-conceived revenge plot—breaking into his teacher’s house to steal his dog—went sideways. The judge had called him a delinquent in need of reform. His choices were limited: juvenile detention or community service as a tutor.
A groan escaped him. “Why did I think this was the better option?”
For a moment, he wished he'd just stuck to the simple pranks, like a fart bag or writing mean stuff on his chalkboard, like all the rest of the other boys. But then he remembers he's not like other boys.
“Sorry I’m late!” a small voice interrupted his brooding.
Dave looked up to see a boy with fire-engine-red hair and oversized glasses that minimized his eyes into tiny dots. He clutched a pile of papers in his hands, his energy radiating awkwardness.
“So, I heard you have math problems,” Dave said coolly, twirling a pencil.
The boy nodded, sliding the papers toward him. “You could say that. My name’s Arnold,” adding that he hoped Dave could help solve them.
Dave barely acknowledged the introduction. He flipped through the stack of math problems.

The math session doesn’t go quickly, and Dave is starting to harbor the suspicion that the clock hands are stalling just to tease him. There’s one problem regarding distance and time. It is extra credit, so they don’t have to do it. But Arnold is persistent in trying it out.

"Terry leaves his house riding a bike at 20km/h. Sally leaves 6 hours later riding a scooter at 80km/h, with hopes of catching up with him. How long will it take Sally to catch up with him?"

“Easy” said Dave. “So, 80 times t ……”
“I don’t get it. Where does t come from?”
“Duh”, Dave chuckles, “t is Sally’s time”
But they never said Sally’s time was t.”
“They don’t need to. You just refer to Sally’s time as t.”
“But where does the t come from?”
“I literally just said it means Sally’s time.” Dave glared at the younger boy. “Keep up.”
Arnold wasn’t satisfied. “It doesn’t make sense. Why do we call Sally’s time ‘t’? It doesn’t say that anywhere.”
“It’s called a variable,” Dave snapped. “Just roll with it.”
Arnold frowned, punching random numbers into his calculator. “1.5 hours?”
“Close, but no. Let me explain again.”

As the tutoring sessions continued, Dave’s frustration grew. Arnold made the same mistakes repeatedly, and Dave often wondered if juvie would’ve been less painful.
One day, Jesse, the janitor, pulled Dave aside after a session.
“You’re too hard on the kid,” Jesse said, adjusting his cap.
Dave rolled his eyes. “And you’re suddenly a parenting expert?”
“You don’t need to be an expert to see the boy’s struggling,” Jesse replied. “Try meeting him where he’s at. Connect with him.”
Dave snorted. “I’m not here to be his therapist.”
“No,” Jesse said, “like it or not, you are the teacher. Start acting like it.”
The words stuck with Dave, though he’d never admit it.

Over time, Dave softened. He started asking Arnold about his life outside of math.
“Ever dealt with someone like Terrence?” Arnold blurted out one day.
Dave raised an eyebrow. “Who’s Terrence?”
Arnold hesitated. “He’s... a bully. He keeps taking people’s things. It doesn’t matter how much they suspend him or threaten him. He does what he likes. He stole my pocket watch yesterday.”
Dave frowned. “Was it important?”
“It belonged to my great-great-grandfather,” Arnold said, tears welling up. “It’s all I have left of him.”
Dave sighed. “Alright, kid. Let’s get your watch back.”

The next day, Dave hatched a plan. And Jesse agreed to help.
At exactly 3:00 pm, kids rushed out from their classroom. Arnold sat at one of the several tables, just as he, Dave and Arnold had agreed.
Then Terrence showed up. Terrence was an especially bony kid. He had a black cap on and a full backpack. Even from where he looked, Dave felt wary of how small he was, and how big his pack was.
Because of how far away he was, Dave couldn’t hear all the conversation. All he knew was that Arnold demanded his watch back, and Terrence laughed at him and lied that he did not have anything to do with the watch. Though Arnold wanted to put up more fight, he couldn’t take on three bigger boys if it got physical and so he just ran.
Terrence and his group chased Arnold down a couple of hallways, then up a staircase, and there they met Dave and Jesse waiting for them. Dave had a hoodie on, while Jesse had muscles that shone under the light, lined with colorful tattoos of creatures and languages even Jesse did not know. Top it with shades and a baseball bat from Dave’s Little League days and…
“Fine! Take it!” Terrence finally relented, handing over the pocket watch.
Arnold beamed as he held the watch in his hands. “Thank you!”
Dave shrugged. “Don’t mention it. Now let’s get back to those equations.”

In their next session, Arnold approached the extra credit algebra problem with a newfound confidence.
“Okay,” Dave said, pacing himself. “If Sally’s been biking for one hour, what hour would it be for Terry?”
“Hour 7!” Arnold replied quickly.
Dave smirked. “Exactly. And if it’s Hour 2 for Sally?”
“Hour 8 for Terry.”
“Good. See the pattern?”
Arnold nodded eagerly. For the first time, Dave saw a spark of understanding in the kid’s eyes.
“Math is just a puzzle,” Dave said. “Break it down, and it’s not so bad.”
By the end of the session, Arnold had solved the math problem on his own.
“Hey, Dave?” Arnold said, packing up his things.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for not giving up on me.”
Dave shrugged, hiding a smile. “Don’t get used to it.”

As Arnold walked away, Dave realized he’d learned something too. Sometimes, the hardest equations to solve aren’t on paper—they’re the ones inside ourselves.