'Seven times the square root of one hundred and fifty two.'

The blond girl glared perplexed at the problem, her tongue pured through her pink lips, fingers rubbing her scalp raw.

The majority of the time, Rachel was in fact quit good at math, but her thoughts were somewhat clouded that day. She sighed and moved on to the next, equally as difficult equation.

'Twenty-five divided by three, times nine.Okay, I know this...first you multiply twenty-five by nine...or do we divide first...or..nine times three...that's...16? Ugh!'

Discouraged, she was soon playing with the tip of her hair. A habit she'd picked up when she took the job of supreme leader.

'Maybe if I dress more girly...' She mentally gasped. 'Stay focused Rachel! Math...okay, so carry the eight...'

"Homework...during recess? That unlike you, Rachel."

Unconsciously, Rachel sighed. She wasn't sure if she wanted this distraction or not.

"Hello to you too, Nigel."

The Brit chuckled, taking a seat beside the frustrated and now flustered girl.

"You sound happy."

"I'm not in the mood for sarcasm, numbuh 1."

In a flash Nigel's expression became more serious.

"Why is that Rachel...?"

"I'd rather not speak of it,"

"You're sure about that?"

Rachel gulped. Deep in her mind, she knew she could trust Nigel with just about anything. He'd proved himself to be a great operative and loyal friend to her...

"You're not to tell a soul, Nigel Uno."

He held the stern exterior for a few moments more before melting into jello, smiling warmly at the girl before him.

"Shoot."

She breathed and looked down at her math book, finding it much more interesting then it'd been five minutes ago.

"Okay..."

Her heart rate increased ten-fold, and she was finding it difficult to speak.

"Earlier today, at lunch, I over heard some girls talking..."

Nigel nodded. Rachel blushed awkwardly. She fidgeted and fumbled her thumbs together.

"..about me..."

"And?"

"..they said that I was...was..." Swallowing, she plunged and said last word in a quite, incoherent mumble. "...gay."

Rachel dared not look at Nigel after she'd finished. And the fact he wasn't saying anything was making her more and more uncomfortable.

"Are you?"

Rachel gasped, her blood boiling slightly.

"No!! I'm not!!"

"It's okay if you are."

Rachel's face was reddening by the second.

"Stop it, Nigel! I'm not gay. Really, I'm not. I just want to know why they think I am...I haven't been able to concentrate all day." Infuriated, the girl turned to him. "Do I LOOK gay or something. Is it the way I walk? The way I talk? Is it because all the other girls wear make up and read magazines, and look graceful and beautiful while I'm--"

"Graceful and beautiful?"

Her eyes widened, frozen by his meaningful comment, while he just stared at her, smiling still as if it were just a regular part of their conversation.

"You shouldn't care what others think of you Rachel." Nigel advised. "All that matters is what you think of yourself. Screw those girls. They're only talking about you because they don't have a life of their own."

Rachel blinked, and for the first time that day, genuinely smiled. She then moved her gaze from her lap to the sky above them. Nigel shortly followed like a small puppy, curious to see what was so interesting.

"Why is it we always end up like this?"

He coaxed a brow.

"Pardon?"

"Me venting to you like this."

The smile curled back upon Nigel's lips.

"Good ventilation, I suppose."