Get to work
Ocean lay down on the floor of Constance’s room and looked at her homework planner. There was so much to do, and she only had tonight, because every other day she was busy with extracurriculars.
Sure, she could potentially skip them, but she didn’t want to. Skipping choir would just be wrong, she loved debate, she’d never get good at tennis if she quit, she HAD to learn golf (it was the game of business), Latin was vital for college applications, as was violin, and she wasn’t skipping out on sign language classes (not that she could, she’d been picked up as a teaching assistant there, a job she was very proud to have).
So, she had to get all of her homework done tonight. Physics, Math, French, History, Russian (she’d picked up an extra because it would look really good on her college applications) and English. Six huge pieces of homework for her high level classes.
She could get them done tonight, if she didn’t sleep, or take breaks, or eat. Or she could work on them at lunchtimes, but then she’d have to skip study group, and piano, and flute classes. Why did she take so many classes?!
Just looking at the volume of work, getting out her textbooks and looking at the amount of math problems, was enough to give her a nervous breakdown.
Three problems in, she had to take a break that she didn’t have time for, because she couldn’t see through the tears in her eyes. And if she was crying too hard, she couldn’t work. And if she couldn’t work, she had less time, which made her cry more stressed and made her cry harder.
She knew that to get back to work, she had to stop. But she couldn’t. She was overwhelmed, and it was all just too much.
And, of course, Constance chose that moment to walk in. Ocean could only imagine what she was thinking, seeing her on the floor, sobbing, surrounded by textbooks. But, Constance being Constance, she didn’t make it a big deal. She was a comfort.
“Too much?” Constance asked, and Ocean nodded, letting out a small, pathetic sob. Constance crouched down next to her and offered her a hug, and Ocean accepted, leaning exhaustedly into Constance’s arms and crying softly against her.
“Do you want some help?” Constance asked, and Ocean nodded. She knew she was in higher level classes, so the work would be harder and expecting Constance to do it perfectly was unreasonable, but she just didn’t want her to leave. She didn’t want to be alone.
“Alright, what’re we looking at here?” Constance asked, and Ocean gestured to the homework planner. She was crying too hard to speak properly, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to anyway. When she was stressed, she tended to snap, and Constance didn’t deserve that. Ocean was learning to hold herself responsible, and this was one of those times she had to regulate herself.
“Alright,” Constance said, pulling out her phone. “I have an idea. Let’s take these books downstairs, shall we?”
Ocean had no idea why they’d do that, because working in Constance’s room was the easiest way to not get distracted, but if going downstairs meant she wouldn’t be on her own, then that’s where she’d go. Maybe Constance would cook in the kitchen while Ocean worked in the living room. That might work. That could be okay.
So, when Constance was done with her phone, they grabbed the textbooks and carried them downstairs, dumping them on the coffee table, where Ocean reopened her math book and sat down on the floor in front of the table.
“So, what do you want for dinner?” Constance asked, and Ocean smiled. Maybe Constance hadn’t meant she’d help with the work, she’d meant she’d help keep Ocean calm and fed. It might not have been the help she was expecting, but it was still help. It was effort, and that was what mattered.
“Pasta’s quick and easy,” Ocean suggested, looking for something that wouldn’t require her taking a break. And maybe she could use something to keep her energy up, and caffeine was really bad for her so… “And do we have any cookies?”
“Always,” Constance asked, grabbing her apron from its hook and putting it on. “I’ll make you hot chocolate too, if you like.”
“That sounds great,” Ocean nodded, starting again on her math problems. God, she hated math. But at least having a friend nearby made it more bearable.
She got through another 5 problems before she was interrupted by a knock at the door.
“I’ll get it!” Constance called, running from the kitchen up to the door, where Ocean could hear her talking to people. Were her family home? Surely not, their cafe didn’t close for hours.
Then her question was answered when she heard a familiar voice talking to her from the doorway.
“So your English homework is to write a love poem, and CONSTANCE had to call me? I’m insulted,” Noel quipped, and Ocean turned around quickly. Noel? Why was Noel here?
“I called for reinforcements,” Constance explained, rushing back in to the kitchen counter. “There’s hot chocolate out for everyone, and I’m making soup.”
When Ocean turned to the bench, she saw six mugs lined up there, each with the initial of a choir member. That was why Constance made her come downstairs. More room for everyone, plus getting upstairs wasn’t particularly easy for Ricky.
“What’re we doing?” Ricky signed, sitting down on the sofa behind Ocean. Ocean shrugged. She was glad the choir were there, but Ocean wasn’t sure exactly why they’d been called, or how much they knew.
“Ocean’s homework,” Constance explained, hurrying over to offer Ricky and Ocean their hot chocolate mugs. She looked over the textbooks and found the homework planner, picking it up and looking over it.
“Ricky, do you think you can write an explanation of a theory for physics?” She suggested, and Ricky smiled.
“I think I can explain any physics theory better than whatever teacher Ocean has,” Ricky signed, accepting the textbook Constance was handing him. “This’ll be A+ work for sure.”
“You don’t have to-“ Ocean started, but she stopped talking when she saw how quickly and enthusiastically Ricky got to work on the very project she’d been dreading even thinking about. She didn’t want to accept her friends help, she wanted to insist she didn’t need it, but having only one project done by someone else felt like a weight off her shoulders.
“Mischa,” Constance said, turning to the counter, where Mischa was drinking his hot chocolate at an alarming pace, getting more on his face than in his mouth. Noel was standing next to him, giving him a look that was somewhere between judgemental and amused. Ocean was doubting the plan now. Mischa was a good friend, of course, but when it came to schoolwork, he was the opposite of reliable. He didn’t try hard enough to ever get anything above a B, and Ocean didn’t think she’d ever seen him hand in homework on time. Or at all.
“You’re fluent in Russian, right?” Constance asked, and Mischa nodded.
“I speak Ukrainian, Russian, English, even some Dutch,” he confirmed. “And not even the Dutch speak Dutch.”
“So you could manage some Russian translations?” Constance asked, picking up the textbook and handing it to Mischa, who took a seat at the kitchen counter and opened the book quickly.
“Is easy as cake,” Mischa stated, obviously getting the phrase wrong, but Ocean knew he could actually manage this. She’d seen Mischa speak Russian and Ukrainian, and both of them he seemed to speak faster and more confidently than he did in English. This would probably be the best Russian work she’d ever handed in. “Is dope to be doing Russian again, don’t get to use it often.”
“Then you’re welcome,” Ocean smiled, looking back down at her math homework. She still had so many projects to get done.
“Noel?” Constance started, before Noel started talking quickly.
“I have a poem for her that’s never seen the light of day. It’s ambiguous enough that it’ll come off as straight, good enough that she’ll get an A, but rough enough that it’s believable she could have written it.”
“Hey!” Ocean interrupted, slightly offended. She was okay at poetry, good enough to pass. Sure, she wasn’t Noel, but Noel wanted to be a poet. Maybe she had to accept that she couldn’t be better than him at everything, couldn’t hold herself to that standard.
“Do you want the poem or not?” Noel asked, and Ocean nodded. She definitely wanted it. She needed it. With those three assignments done, her workload had been split on half, and suddenly, it was looking much more manageable.
“And I’ll take the French, too,” Noel stated, grabbing the French textbook. “I’m not letting Ocean butcher my favourite language.”
“Thank you,” Ocean told Noel as he walked back to the kitchen counter to sit down beside Mischa.
“I’m not doing this for you,” Noel said, but he was smiling in a way that very much said otherwise. “I’m doing it because Constance promised food.”
That… was a fair point actually. Any excuse to eat Constance’s cooking would have the whole choir coming running. She was easily the best cook in Uranium, and probably the best friend, too. Ocean was so grateful.
“Penny, are you-“ Constance started as she went into the kitchen, and Penny interrupted quickly.
“History?” Penny asked, and Constance nodded.
“It’s an essay about the lives of Victorian children, so-“ Constance started explaining, but Penny interrupted again.
“I love the Victorians,” She exclaimed, sitting down on the carpet across from Ocean with a smile on her face as she grabbed the textbook.
“This is going to be the best essay you’ve ever seen,” Penny promised, offering Ocean a bright, eager grin. “And possibly the longest, I know a LOT about this kind of thing. Especially the toys. I know a lot about old children’s toys. Do you think one paragraph about dolls would be okay, is it too much? Or could I do more?”
“Whatever you write, it’ll be amazing,” Ocean told her. “Thank you. Thank all of you, you’re all freaking rockstars for this.”
The choir murmured sounds of acknowledgment and approval, all of them looking lost in their work. All but Constance, who was smiling proudly from the kitchen, and Ocean smiled back.
She had the greatest best friend in the world, and the most helpful friends. Even if she still had a rough time asking for help, they never let her down. When she took on too much, they were there to lighten the load.
In fact, they seemed happy to be doing it.
Ocean looked back down at her math problems, and they all looked so much easier now that she knew that they were all she had to do.
Maybe needing help wasn’t such a bad thing after all.