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“Your tutors are teaching you to approach the questions in the way that suits them as learners, and perhaps as teachers too. If everyone answers formulaically, it’s easy to mark. But if the learning style doesn’t suit you, you won’t get any benefit from approaching questions that way. We need to find what works for you.”
“Okay.” It was logical. The real test would be whether he could actually make heads or tail of the information.
“Statistics is maths, right? It’s a language. It has its own rules just like English has grammar and spelling rules. It has building blocks like words and sentences, and the data that we get as answers helps us build the paragraphs. Piece those things together and we can craft the story.”
He huffed. “Makes sense in theory. It’s the putting it together that I’ve failed dismally at.”
King clapped him on the shoulder, squeezing him. His hand was cool, his grip strong. Comforting. “That’s where I come in. I’m going to help you understand why you’re doing these calculations, how to draw the conclusions from the data, and what the results mean. You are going to pass this course, Liam. I have no doubt that you can do it.”
“You haven’t seen how bad I am yet.”
King laughed at Liam’s quip, a rumbling chuckle from deep in his chest, and nudged him with his elbow. Liam liked the way he did that—touched him—and the faith King seemed to have in him was uplifting. It was as if he could do anything. But that was ridiculous. Liam looked away, heat flaring and crawling over his face. He realized he was smiling, a shy grin tilting his lips fractionally upward. He wanted King’s confidence in him to be well founded, but his experience thus far with the evil that was statistics didn’t reassure him.
“Are you doubting how good a teacher I am?” King raised an eyebrow, Liam’s insides clenching at the sight.
“No,” Liam hurried to reassure him, an irrational panic lashing out. “Just how good a learner I am.”
“Don’t stress. You’ve got this. Trust me.” King pulled his chair closer until their shoulders were pressed together and knees knocking before he launched into a discussion on the basics of statistics, what they fundamentally were, their importance, and how they make data comparable. His passion shone through, just like Addy’s did when she was talking, and Liam let himself get swept away in King’s storytelling. He was patient and kind, going over things whenever Liam asked a question. King encouraged him to give his perspective too, something he hadn’t really had much of outside of his relationship with Lij and Addy.
They spoke mostly about rugby statistics, King contextualising the concepts he was learning into something that made sense to Liam. King reached for his glass of water, finding it empty, and Liam jumped up, filling it from the dispenser on the fridge. He handed it over as King looked down at his watch, his eyes widening momentarily. “We’ve been going at it for hours. You must be exhausted.”
It was only then that Liam looked outside to see darkened skies. He’d turned the lights over the table on what had felt like ten minutes earlier, but it must have been hours. The clock was ticking over to 8:00 p.m., the sun long having set outside.
“Yeah, starving too.” Liam rubbed his belly, a louder growl letting loose. He’d been getting low-key protests for a few hours but had ignored them. It seemed that his stomach was done waiting.
King stood, pushed his chair in, and packed up his things. Liam knew what he was going to say before he’d opened his mouth, and he scrambled for excuses to get King to stay. He’d enjoyed his company. Talking came easily between them, and Liam wanted more of the warmth that spread through his veins when he was under King’s spotlight. “You should stay. For dinner, I mean.”
“I can’t tonight. But thanks for the offer. Maybe we can do it next time. Let me know if you want me to come around tomorrow—”
“I do. I’ve understood more in these few hours we’ve been talking than I did in two semesters I’ve taken the subject. I definitely want to keep going.”
King took his glass to the sink and held his hand out to Liam to shake. There was that cool, firm grip again. His hands were rough like Liam’s. He didn’t think a maths teacher would do anything physical for work, but he clearly lifted weights. Was that why he was built like a brick shithouse? Tall and broad, he took up a lot of space, but not in a bad way. His presence was calming in a make-you-feel-safe way. He was definitely a gentle giant, and after talking with him, he could see exactly why Addy had fallen head over heels for him.
He was kind, a good guy. It made his attraction to the man even harder to ignore.
King flashed him a beaming smile, one that lit up his whole face and made his eyes crinkle at the corners. It was heady knowing he’d done that. He’d worked hard to impress this man, one far smarter than him, and Liam’s chest expanded in pride. He hadn’t ever thought he would get such a kick out of pleasing his teacher, but that smile was worth the hours of battling a subject he despised. Except that he hadn’t hated what he’d learned today. King had explained everything in a way that made sense. Liam had understood it too. Something inside him told Liam that the knowledge wouldn’t slide right away either. It wasn’t all jumbled up in his head, floating around and getting tangled up in each other like a knotted-up ball of twine. King had crafted a story and Liam followed it.
A weight lifted off his shoulders. Liam laughed, hope finally lighting the darkened tunnel he’d been stumbling through for far too long.
“Good work, man. Don’t underestimate yourself. You keep working like you did today and you’ll ace this subject.”
“Thank you.” His words were quiet but heartfelt, and King seemed to understand the weight of them, nodding and reaching out to squeeze his shoulder once more before letting go of his hand and saying goodbye.
Liam watched as his taillights disappeared around the corner. When he turned into his house, the silence that met him was deafening. He could go next door. He could spend some time with Lij, but in the lead up to the holidays, his friend was always busy with last-minute edits for Christmas releases. Maybe it was just an excuse though, because while he wanted company, Lij’s wasn’t it. He loved his best mate—they were brothers from another mother. He’d always be his closest friend, but Liam wanted Addy’s easy comfort and King’s warm reassurance. He loved their quiet study times together and wanted more of it. King too, if today was anything to go by.
Back in the kitchen, he collected the ingredients so he could grill steak on the barbie while he waited for the microwave to signal his baked potato was ready. When everything was done, he piled his plate high with meat, broccoli, and potato slathered in sour cream, chives, and grated cheese, and ate outdoors, the patio light creating a halo around the table. Beyond, the sky was dark. Muted noise from Pop’s TV and the regular zaps from his neighbour’s UV bug light were the only interruptions to the silence.
But it didn’t distract him from turning King’s parting words over and over in his mind. He couldn’t get the other man’s expressions out of his thoughts. Had he ever seen pride like that directed at him before? His teachers? Coaches? His agent? His parents? Liam’s achievements might not have been as important to them as they were to him, but he’d done all right, hadn’t he? Had anyone ever been proud of him like King had just been? Every time Liam answered a question correctly, he was met with King’s smile. Even when they were talking and Liam was explaining his career stats—the number of penalties, assists, tries, and time on field—and King was writing notes, he’d been nodding, actively listening and encouraging him to keep going. King’s attention, his constant praise, the easy way he spoke, and the effortless faith he had in Liam was motivation like nothing else. In the space of a couple of hours, King had bolstered Liam’s confidence and had him riding a high. He could do this. He would do it. And it would be because Addy and King had been there to help him.
Liam hadn’t wanted to face statistics again, but he’d never been more grateful to have support when he’d really needed it. Something told him that this go at the subject from hell would have a different outcome.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
King’s words came back to him—“Are you doubting how good a teacher I am?”—and he smiled. No, after this afternoon’s session, he had no doubt that King’s students were the luckiest SOBs ever.
He yawned, exhausted after a day of both physical and mental workouts. It was early by most standards, but he’d been on the field at 5:00 a.m., starting their training before the heat and humidity hit. He’d gone for a swim that afternoon too, doing laps of the pool until he couldn’t lift his arms just to shake off the disappointment of knowing he wouldn’t see Addy for a few weeks. Liam was ready to crash. Dragging his feet up the stairs to his bedroom, stripping as he went, Liam face-planted his mattress naked as the day he was born. The chilled air from the air-conditioning vent above his bed washed over him, cooling his sweat-damp skin. His thoughts drifted back to King and their session. Why was he wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt during summer in sub-tropical weather? He didn’t understand the man himself, but King was doing a hell of a good job helping him understand everything else.
