Helen Poston - Tuesday 4 September 2012 6th Period - World History with the Scooby Gang [Open]<br/><br/>The pencil moved where Isolde pointed, flipping eraser for point for eraser until a little pile of pink rubber, like the dead skin shed by bubble gum, was all over her desk.  Helen didn't know why the problems were wrong.  Math had never come to her.  Never.  It was like the numbers and concepts were in a different language or something.  "Thanks, Isolde," she said and wrote in the last answer Isolde provided.  Her hand scattered the eraser bits to the floor, making a smell like old trees and car tires.<br/><br/>She looked up, making eye contact with Isolde when she spoke about her life.  None of it made sense.  What was the RAF and Nellis?  It wasn't clear, even in context, but it was clear something about the story upset Isolde.  A lot.  She looked like something bad had just come over her mind, darkened it and not in the kind of good dark like Helen liked.  This was bad dark.  Dark that hurt people.  Without thinking about it, Helen reached out and put her hand around Isolde's wrist and squeezed it.  She didn't let go, but her grip did ease up so her fingers were just resting on Isolde's skin.<br/><br/>"You really don't mind?  I mean, really?  I have to go see Mr. Baker today, he like insisted on it, but I'll ditch him as soon as I can.  I don't have gym after school today and could meet you somewhere.  Will you be here?  I don't have a car so I can't go to your house unless it's close."