Chromosomes and Calculus

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Summary: The story of how Sam failed Calculus. Inconsequential. slight Sam/Laura fluff.

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"What do you mean I failed?" Sam stared down at the stack of stapled papers in his hand. This had been his Calculus final, something he was positive he had aced with ease. But as if to disprove him, to mock him, a giant red F sat at the top.

Sam was sure it was smirking at him. Or dancing. It must have been dancing.

"Failed." Mr. Grayson replied, his lip curling as he spoke the word with relish, annunciating it with a precision that displayed to Sam just how happy Grayson was to give him this grade. The little idiot had hated Sam from day one. "That's what happens to cheaters Mr. Hall." Sam started violently. Cheating? He hadn't cheated! He'd done every single problem himself! It was more likely that dumbass in the back of the room had been cheating off him.

"I didn't cheat! What are you talking about?" Sam said fiercely, before attempting to reign in his temper. Firstly, Mr. Grayson could make things much worse for Sam than a failed final. Especially if Sam gave in to temptation and punched the smug smirk right off his face. Besides, he didn't want detentions either - he still had to get to Decathlon practices with Laura. Oh, and Brian.

But mostly Laura.

"It is impossible," Mr. Grayson began, looking more and more pompous by the second. "for you to have done this final without the work." Suddenly things cleared. Sam didn't do solutions on paper. He just did them in his head. Sam's mouth fell open slightly as he realized what Grayson was doing. The idiot knew that Sam did problems in his head, showing only the necessary work. He'd done it the same way, every day for this entire class.

This was the idiot's big chance to bring him down.

"But I did, and you know I did. I don't cheat." Sam said plainly, glaring daggers at Grayson, who was looking angrier and angrier. As long as Sam didn't take the first punch…

"If Ican't do the work without paper," Grayson said primly, "Than there's no way in the world you could've." Grayson sneered at Sam, despite the fact that he stood a foot shorter than his student. Sam's temper, despite his serious attempts to quell it, shoving it down again and again, was rising quickly again. "You were probably cheating off that little tramp beside you." Beside me…? Sam had to recall who exactly he sat next to in that class. Brian and…

Laura. Sam saw red.

"How can you fail me for being smarter than you?" Sam spat out angrily, leaning over until he was glaring directly down on his teacher, the fire in his eyes dangerous. "Not that it's hard." he added sarcastically, barely managing to keep his fists at his side.

"Get OUT of my classroom!" Grayson was getting red in the face and Sam knew that he should probably leave before he did something to the Calculus teacher that he would regret in the long run. But he took wicked pride in the slight fear in the man's eyes. Good. Sam summoned any last remnants of self control and smiled down at Mr. Grayson. He doubted it was an entirely pleasant smile, thanks to the fear that tripled in the teacher's eyes.

"Goodbye Mr. Grayson." Sam said, easily picking up his textbooks and moving to the door.

"Just to let you know, you're failing my class now Mr. Hall." Grayson was taking a sick pride in this, more confident now that Sam wasn't towering over him. Sam just turned and smiled that smile again. Mr. Grayson flinched.

"Just to let you know - I don't care. At least I'm not balding, having a midlife crisis ten years too early, still living with my mom and scared of a student, who's smarter than you. Compared to you, Mr. Grayson, I have it made."

With that, Sam left the classroom. He was quite happy with himself until he realized he'd have to explain it to his mom. He winced. And then his dad. At that he groaned.

Jack Hall would totally not understand failing a class.

It was really his dad's fault, Sam reasoned to himself. The infamous Hall temper had been passed down for generations, so really, it was completely out of Sam's hands. He was a puppet in this cruel game of chromosomes and calculus.

He doubted that would fly with his father either. He'd have to just tell him the truth. Leaving out the part about the mid-life crisis crack, and the living-with-your-mom crack, and Laura. Most particularly Laura.

Just great, he groaned again. He sighed and glanced down at the final. You should've just written out the work.

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