Short Story: The Magic Hiding in Maths Class

 The Magic Hiding in Maths Class

Chapter 1: The Numbers That Wouldn't Behave

Finn O'Sullivan had always hated mathematics with the sort of passionate intensity that most people reserved for Brussels sprouts, having to clean their bedrooms, or listening to his little sister practice the violin. Numbers seemed to mock him from the pages of his exercise book, arranging themselves into equations that made absolutely no sense and problems that appeared to have been designed by someone who actively disliked children.
"Right then, Year Six," announced Mr. Peters, their mathematics teacher, as he wrote a series of increasingly complicated-looking problems on the whiteboard with the enthusiasm of someone who genuinely believed that fractions were the most fascinating thing in the universe. "Today we're going to explore the wonderful world of fractions, decimals, and percentages. Who can tell me what three-quarters looks like as a decimal?"
Finn slumped lower in his seat, hoping to become invisible or possibly to spontaneously develop the ability to teleport himself anywhere else in the world. Around him, eager hands shot into the air like rockets,  Rosie Picket waving hers frantically as if she was trying to flag down a rescue helicopter, Tommy Fletcher practically bouncing in his chair with mathematical enthusiasm, and Melanie Wells already scribbling calculations in her notebook as if mathematics was the most natural thing in the world.
"0.75!" called out Rosie when Mr. Peters pointed to her, her voice ringing with the confidence of someone who had never met a number she couldn't understand.
"Excellent! And as a percentage?"
"Seventy-five per cent!" chorused several voices in perfect unison, while Finn stared at the numbers on the board as if they were written in ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs or possibly an alien language designed specifically to torture eleven-year-old boys who just wanted to get through Year 6 without completely humiliating themselves.
How did three-quarters become 0.75? How did that magically transform into seventy-five per cent? The numbers seemed to shape-shift according to mysterious rules that everyone else had apparently been born understanding, but which remained as incomprehensible to him as advanced rocket science.
"Now then," Mr. Peters continued, his voice filled with the sort of infectious enthusiasm that suggested he genuinely believed mathematics was more exciting than Christmas morning, "I want you all to work through the problems on page forty-seven. Remember, mathematics is just another language, once you learn to speak it fluently, it becomes as natural as English."
Finn opened his textbook to page forty-seven and immediately felt his heart sink into his shoes. The page was covered with word problems that seemed to have been specifically designed to make his brain hurt and his confidence shrivel:
Sarah has 3/4 of a chocolate bar. She gives 1/8 to her brother and 2/5 to her sister. How much chocolate does she have left?
A recipe calls for 2.5 cups of flour. If you want to make half the recipe, how much flour do you need?
In a class of 28 students, 25% wear glasses. How many students is that?
Each problem felt like a puzzle written in a foreign language by someone who had clearly never been eleven years old and confused about everything. Finn stared at the first question, trying to make sense of how you could possibly give away 1/8 and 2/5 of something when you only had 3/4 to begin with. Were Sarah's siblings mathematical wizards who could accept fractional chocolate? The fractions swirled around in his head like alphabet soup in a blender. Around him, his classmates were already working with the focused intensity of mathematical geniuses, their pencils scratching across paper as they solved problems with apparent ease. Finn picked up his pencil, wrote "Sarah has 3/4 of a chocolate bar" in his exercise book, then stared at it helplessly, wondering what magical transformation was supposed to happen next.

Chapter 2: The Wish That Changed Everything

"This is hopeless," Finn muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible above the sound of productive mathematical activity surrounding him. "I'm never going to understand this. Everyone else gets it, and I'm just... stupid."
The word hung in the air like a dark cloud, and Finn felt the familiar weight of mathematical failure settling on his shoulders. He'd been struggling with numbers since Year 4, watching his classmates race ahead while he remained stuck at the starting line, unable to grasp concepts that seemed to come naturally to everyone else.
"I wish," he said quietly, his voice carrying the desperate edge of someone who had tried everything else and was running out of options, "I wish numbers made sense. I wish mathematics were actually magic, because at least then I'd understand why nothing adds up properly. Maybe then I wouldn't feel like the stupidest person in Year 6."
The moment the words left his mouth, something extraordinary happened. The numbers on his page began to shimmer and glow, as if they were made of golden light instead of ordinary pencil marks. The fraction 3/4 lifted itself off the page and hovered in the air above his exercise book, pulsing gently like a tiny star that had decided to take a break from the night sky.
Finn blinked hard, rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, and looked again. The glowing fraction was still there, and now it was joined by 1/8 and 2/5, which had also detached themselves from the page and were floating in a small constellation of mathematical symbols above his desk.
"This is impossible," he whispered, glancing around frantically to see if anyone else had noticed the floating numbers. But his classmates were all absorbed in their work, and Mr. Peters was helping Tommy with a particularly tricky decimal conversion at the front of the classroom, completely oblivious to the supernatural mathematics lesson happening at Finn's desk.
As Finn watched in fascination and growing excitement, the floating fractions began to move and rearrange themselves, as if they were trying to communicate something important. The 3/4 grew larger and brighter, then split into smaller pieces, eight equal segments that glowed with warm, golden light.
"Oh," Finn breathed, understanding beginning to dawn like sunrise after a very long night. "Three-quarters means three out of four equal pieces. It's not just a random number - it's actually showing me what it means."
The 1/8 fraction floated over to the glowing segments and highlighted one of them with a gentle pulse of silver light, showing Finn exactly what one-eighth looked like in relation to the whole chocolate bar. Then the 2/5 did something even more remarkable - it transformed the entire display, showing him how to convert everything to the same denominator so he could actually subtract the pieces that Sarah was giving away.
For the first time in his mathematical life, Finn could see what the numbers meant instead of just staring at abstract symbols that might as well have been written in invisible ink. The fractions weren't mysterious codes designed to torture him, they were clear instructions for dividing things into equal parts and working with those parts in perfectly logical ways.

Chapter 3: The Breakthrough

"Sarah has... let me see..." Finn worked through the problem step by step, watching as the floating numbers confirmed each calculation by showing him the remaining glowing segments. "Three-quarters is the same as six-eighths, and if you take away one-eighth, you get five-eighths. But then you have to take away two-fifths, which is..."
The numbers rearranged themselves again, patiently showing him how to convert 2/5 into eighths so he could subtract it properly. The mathematical magic was teaching him step by step, making visible all the relationships between numbers that had always been invisible to him before.
"Sixteen-fortieths!" he said aloud, then caught himself and looked around nervously. But nobody was paying attention to his sudden outburst of mathematical enthusiasm.
"Finn?" Mr. Peters' voice made him look up with a start, his heart racing with the fear of being caught doing something wrong. "How are you getting on with the problems?"
"I... I think I understand fractions now," Finn said, hardly believing the words as they came out of his mouth. "They're not just numbers, they're instructions for dividing things up and working with the pieces."
Mr. Peters looked surprised but genuinely pleased. "That's exactly right! Mathematics is all about relationships and patterns. Once you start seeing the logic behind the numbers, everything becomes much clearer."
But Finn's newfound mathematical confidence was about to face its first real test.
"Finn O'Sullivan understanding maths?" scoffed Marcus Blackwood during break time, his voice carrying the particular cruelty that some children seemed to develop naturally. "That's a good one. You couldn't add two and two last week without counting on your fingers."
"Leave him alone, Marcus," said Rosie Picket, but her defence only made Finn feel worse.
"No, it's fine," Finn said, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I did figure something out. The numbers... they started making sense."
"Right," Marcus sneered. "And I suppose next you'll be telling us you can do algebra or something equally ridiculous."
The comment stung because it highlighted exactly what Finn feared - that his mathematical breakthrough was temporary, that he'd go back to being the class dunce as soon as the problems got harder. The magical numbers had helped him with basic fractions, but what about more complex mathematics? What about the advanced concepts that Year 6 students were expected to master before moving on to secondary school?

Chapter 4: The Test of Confidence

That afternoon brought Finn's worst nightmare: Mr. Peters announced that they would be working on a particularly challenging set of problems involving mixed operations, algebraic thinking, and complex word problems that required multiple steps to solve.
"Remember," Mr. Peters said as he wrote the first problem on the whiteboard, "mathematics has its own grammar, just like English. You have to follow the rules about which operations to do first, or you'll get completely the wrong answer."
Finn looked at the problem - 3 + 4 × 2 - 6 ÷ 3 + (8 - 5) × 2 - and felt his newfound confidence begin to crumble. This wasn't simple fractions anymore. This was the kind of complex calculation that had always made him feel like his brain was full of cotton wool.
Around him, his classmates were already working, but Finn could hear frustrated sighs and the sound of erasers being used extensively. Even the mathematical geniuses were finding this challenging.
"I can't do this," Finn whispered to himself, staring at the intimidating equation. "It was just a fluke this morning. I'm still rubbish at maths."
But as he watched, something remarkable happened. The numbers on the page began to glow again, but this time they were pulsing with different colours, gold for multiplication and division, silver for addition and subtraction, and brilliant white for the brackets that needed to be solved first.
The mathematical magic was showing him the order of operations not as arbitrary rules to memorise, but as a logical sequence that made perfect sense. First, the brackets: (8 - 5) = 3. Then multiplication and division from left to right: 4 × 2 = 8, then 6 ÷ 3 = 2. Finally, addition and subtraction from left to right: 3 + 8 - 2 + 3 × 2 = 3 + 8 - 2 + 6 = 15.
"It's like following a recipe," Finn murmured in amazement. "You have to do things in the right order, or the whole thing falls apart."
But his quiet celebration was interrupted by Marcus, who had finished his own work and was now peering over Finn's shoulder with obvious scepticism.
"Let me see your workings," Marcus demanded, his voice loud enough to attract attention from nearby students. "I bet you've got it completely wrong."
Finn's stomach clenched with anxiety. What if Marcus was right? What if the magical numbers had led him astray? What if he were about to be publicly humiliated in front of the entire class?
"The answer's fifteen," Finn said quietly, trying to keep his voice steady.
Marcus grabbed Finn's exercise book and studied his working with the intensity of a detective examining evidence. "That's... that's actually right," he said, sounding genuinely surprised. "But you must have copied it from someone else."
"I didn't copy anything," Finn replied, his voice growing stronger. "I worked it out myself."
"Prove it," Marcus challenged, his voice carrying the particular nastiness that came from someone who was used to being right and didn't like having his assumptions challenged. "Do this one." He pointed to another complex problem on the page.

Chapter 5: Standing Up to the Challenge

A small crowd had gathered around Finn's desk, drawn by the unusual spectacle of Marcus Blackwood being challenged by someone he'd always considered mathematically hopeless. Finn felt his palms grow sweaty and his heart start racing, but the magical numbers were still glowing on his page, still pulsing with their helpful colours.
"Fine," Finn said, his voice steadier than he felt. "But when I get it right, you have to admit that maybe I'm not as stupid as you think I am."
"Deal," Marcus smirked. "But when you get it wrong, you have to admit that you're just a maths dunce who got lucky once."
The problem Marcus had chosen was even more complex: 2 × (7 + 3) - 4² ÷ 2 + 15% of 40.
Finn stared at the equation, feeling a moment of panic. This involved brackets, powers, percentages, and multiple operations. But as he watched, the magical numbers began their helpful dance, showing him each step with patient clarity.
"Brackets first," he said aloud, his confidence growing as the numbers guided him. "Seven plus three equals ten. So now it's two times ten minus four squared divided by two plus fifteen per cent of forty."
The numbers rearranged themselves, showing him the next step.
"Powers next. Four squared is sixteen. So now it's two times ten minus sixteen divided by two plus fifteen per cent of forty."
Marcus was watching intently, his smirk beginning to fade as Finn worked through the problem with increasing confidence.
"Multiplication and division from left to right. Two times ten is twenty. Sixteen divided by two is eight. So now it's twenty minus eight plus fifteen per cent of forty."
"What's fifteen per cent of forty?" Marcus challenged, clearly hoping to trip him up.
The magical numbers showed Finn how percentages worked - 15% was the same as 15/100, which was the same as 0.15. And 0.15 × 40 = 6.
"Six," Finn said confidently. "Fifteen per cent of forty is six."
"So the final answer is twenty minus eight plus six, which equals eighteen."
The small crowd that had gathered around his desk erupted in surprised murmurs. Even Melanie Wells, who was usually the best at mathematics in their class, looked impressed.
"That's... that's right," Marcus admitted grudgingly, his face flushed with embarrassment at being proven wrong so publicly.
"How did you do that?" asked Rosie Picket, her eyes wide with amazement. "Yesterday, you couldn't even remember your times tables properly."
Finn glanced at his exercise book, where the numbers were still glowing softly with magical light that only he could see. "I figured out that mathematics isn't about memorising rules," he said carefully. "It's about understanding what the numbers are actually trying to tell you."

Chapter 6: The Ripple Effect

Word of Finn's mathematical transformation spread through Year 6 like wildfire. By lunchtime, half the class was talking about how Finn O'Sullivan had somehow become a maths genius overnight. The other half, led by Marcus, was convinced it was some kind of elaborate trick.
"There's no way he suddenly got good at maths," Marcus declared to his group of followers as they sat in the playground. "He's been rubbish at numbers since Year 4. People don't just magically become clever."
"Maybe he's been getting extra help at home," suggested Jenny Morrison, though she didn't sound entirely convinced.
"Or maybe," said Marcus with the particular nastiness that came from having his mathematical superiority challenged, "he's cheating somehow. Nobody goes from dunce to genius in one morning."
The accusations reached Finn during afternoon registration, delivered by Marcus with the cruel precision of someone who knew exactly how to hurt.
"Everyone knows you're cheating, O'Sullivan," Marcus hissed as they lined up for their next lesson. "Whatever trick you're using, we'll figure it out eventually."
"I'm not cheating," Finn replied, but his voice lacked conviction. How could he explain that numbers had started glowing and floating around his desk? How could he tell anyone that mathematics had literally become magical without sounding completely mental?
"Prove it then," Marcus challenged. "If you're really good at maths now, you won't mind helping me with my homework tonight. Unless you're too scared that your little trick won't work when I'm watching."
Finn felt trapped. If he refused, everyone would assume Marcus was right about the cheating. If he agreed and the magical numbers didn't appear when he needed them, he'd be exposed as a fraud in front of the most popular boy in Year 6.
"Fine," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Fine," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll help you with your homework. But when I get the answers right, you have to stop saying I'm cheating."
"Deal," Marcus replied with a confident smirk. "This should be entertaining."
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of anxiety for Finn. What if the magical numbers only worked during lessons? What if they disappeared when he needed them most? What if Marcus was right, and his morning breakthrough had just been a lucky fluke?
During their final lesson of the day - English literature, which Finn normally enjoyed - he found himself staring at his mathematics textbook, willing the numbers to glow again. But they remained stubbornly ordinary, black marks on white paper that offered no hint of the magic he'd experienced earlier.
"Finn," said Mrs. Williams, their English teacher, "you seem rather distracted today. Is everything alright?"
"Sorry, Mrs. Williams," Finn mumbled, quickly shoving his maths book into his bag. "Just thinking about... homework."
Several of his classmates snickered at this obvious lie. Finn O'Sullivan thinking about homework voluntarily was about as likely as pigs learning to fly.

Chapter 7: The Evening Challenge

That evening, Finn sat at his kitchen table with Marcus and Marcus's usual entourage - Jenny Morrison, David Clarke, and Sophie Hartwell - all of whom had come to witness what Marcus was convinced would be Finn's public mathematical humiliation.
"Right then," Marcus said with theatrical authority, spreading his mathematics homework across the table like a general planning a battle. "Let's see this amazing mathematical genius in action."
Finn's mum had offered to make everyone hot chocolate, clearly pleased that her son was finally showing interest in studying with classmates. She had no idea that this was less a study session and more a trial by mathematics.
"Start with this one," Marcus commanded, pointing to a particularly nasty-looking problem involving percentages, fractions, and decimals all mixed together. "A shop reduces all prices by 15%. If a jumper originally costs £24.80, what's the sale price?"
Finn stared at the problem, his heart sinking. This was exactly the kind of multi-step calculation that had always defeated him. But as he focused on the numbers, something wonderful happened - they began to glow again, soft golden light emanating from the page.
The magical numbers showed him that 15% was the same as 15/100, which was the same as 0.15. They demonstrated how to calculate 15% of £24.80 by multiplying 24.80 × 0.15 = 3.72. Then they showed him how to subtract that discount from the original price: £24.80 - £3.72 = £21.08.
"Twenty-one pounds and eight pence," Finn said confidently, watching as the magical numbers confirmed his calculation with a warm pulse of light.
Marcus checked the answer against his calculator, his confident expression beginning to waver. "That's... correct," he admitted reluctantly.
"Lucky guess," muttered David Clarke. "Try another one."
"Fine," Marcus said, his voice taking on a harder edge. "This one's much more difficult." He pointed to a complex word problem that took up half a page and involved multiple steps, fractions, and percentages, all combined in a way that looked deliberately confusing.
Finn read the problem carefully, feeling his anxiety spike. This was the kind of question that had always made him want to give up entirely. But the magical numbers were already beginning to glow, breaking the complex problem down into manageable steps and showing him how each piece connected to the others.

Chapter 8: The Turning Point

As Finn worked through the complex problem step by step, explaining his reasoning aloud while the magical numbers guided him through each calculation, something shifted in the atmosphere around the kitchen table. Marcus's confident smirk gradually faded, replaced by grudging respect and growing confusion.
"How are you doing this?" Marcus asked finally, his voice lacking its usual mocking tone. "You're getting everything right, and you're explaining it better than Mr. Peters does."
"I told you," Finn replied, his confidence growing with each successful calculation. "I figured out how to see what the numbers are actually showing me. Mathematics isn't about memorising rules - it's about understanding relationships."
"But you were terrible at maths last week," Jenny Morrison said, her voice puzzled rather than accusatory. "You couldn't even do basic multiplication without getting confused."
"I was terrible because I was trying to memorise everything instead of understanding it," Finn explained, watching as the magical numbers danced across his homework page. "Once you see the patterns and connections, everything makes sense."
Sophie Hartwell leaned forward, genuinely interested now. "Can you show me how you do it? I'm good at maths usually, but some of these problems are really confusing."
For the next hour, Finn found himself in the unexpected position of tutoring his classmates. The magical numbers helped him explain concepts in ways that made sense, showing him how to break down complex problems into simple steps and how to help others see the logical connections he was learning to recognise.
"You know what?" Marcus said as they packed up their books, his voice carrying a note of genuine apology. "I was wrong about you cheating. You're actually really good at explaining this stuff."
"Thanks," Finn replied, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction that had nothing to do with magical numbers. "I think I just needed to find the right way to understand it."
"Would you... Would you mind helping me with maths sometimes?" Marcus asked, his usual arrogance replaced by something approaching humility. "I mean, if you don't mind. I know I was horrible to you earlier."
Finn looked at Marcus - really looked at him - and saw something he'd never noticed before. Behind the confident facade and cruel comments was someone who was just as worried about academic failure as everyone else, someone who used mockery to hide his own insecurities.
"Of course," Finn said simply. "That's what friends do."

Chapter 9: The Magic Spreads

Over the following weeks, Finn's transformation from mathematical disaster to numerical wizard became the talk of Year 6. But more importantly, his willingness to help others and his patient explanations began to change the entire classroom dynamic.
Students who had always struggled with mathematics found themselves understanding concepts for the first time. Those who had been confident but competitive discovered the joy of collaborative learning. Even Mr. Peters noticed the change, commenting on how much more supportive and encouraging the class had become.
"There's something different about the atmosphere in here," he observed one afternoon as he watched Finn help a group of students work through a particularly challenging geometry problem. "Everyone seems more willing to take risks and ask questions."
"Finn makes it feel safe to not understand things immediately," explained Melanie Wells. "He shows us that it's okay to be confused at first, as long as you keep trying to figure it out."
The magical numbers continued to reveal their secrets to Finn, but he was learning to rely on them less and less. The patterns and relationships they had shown him were becoming second nature, and he could often solve problems without supernatural assistance.
More importantly, he was discovering that the real magic wasn't in the glowing numbers themselves, but in the confidence and understanding they had helped him develop. Mathematics had transformed from his greatest academic enemy into a subject he genuinely enjoyed and excelled at.

Chapter 10: The Greatest Discovery

The end-of-term mathematics assessment arrived with the usual mixture of excitement and terror that accompanied all major tests. Finn sat in the quiet examination room, looking at problems that would have seemed impossible to him at the beginning of the year, and felt calm and confident for the first time in his academic life.
The numbers on the page glowed softly, not providing him with answers but showing him the relationships and patterns that would help him find the solutions himself. Fractions revealed their connections to decimals and percentages. Word problems broke themselves down into logical steps. Complex calculations showed him how they were built from simple operations arranged in systematic ways.
But halfway through the test, something unexpected happened. The magical glow began to fade from the numbers, growing dimmer and dimmer until it disappeared entirely. For a moment, Finn felt panic rising in his chest. Without the magical assistance, would he revert to his old mathematical confusion?
Then he looked at the problem he'd been working on, a complex calculation involving multiple steps and different types of numbers, and realised something wonderful. He could still see the patterns. He could still understand the relationships. The magic hadn't disappeared; it had become part of him.
The glowing numbers had been training wheels, helping him learn to see mathematical logic until he could recognise it on his own. Now that he truly understood how numbers worked together, he no longer needed supernatural assistance to solve problems.
When the results came back, Finn had achieved the highest mathematics score in his class - not through magical shortcuts, but through genuine understanding of mathematical principles and relationships.
"I'm so proud of you," Mr. Peters said as he handed Finn his marked paper. "Your improvement this term has been remarkable. More importantly, you've developed a real understanding of mathematical thinking that will serve you well throughout your education."
"Thank you," Finn replied, looking down at his paper covered with correct answers and clear working. "I finally understand that mathematics isn't about being naturally clever or having a special talent. It's about seeing the magic in how numbers work together and being patient enough to let them show you their secrets."

Epilogue: The Magic Lives On

That evening, as Finn sat at his desk working on mathematics problems that he now found genuinely enjoyable, he reflected on his journey from mathematical confusion to numerical confidence. The magical numbers no longer glowed and danced across his pages, but he could still feel their presence, a warm certainty that mathematics was his friend rather than his enemy.
"Thank you," he said quietly to his exercise book, where equations solved themselves with elegant logic and numbers arranged themselves in beautiful, meaningful patterns. "Thank you for showing me that mathematics isn't about being clever or stupid. Thank you for teaching me that every number has a story, every equation has a purpose, and every problem has a solution if you're willing to look for the magic hiding in the logic."
The next day at school, Marcus approached Finn's desk with a humility that would have been unthinkable just weeks before.
"Finn," he said quietly, "I owe you an apology. Not just for yesterday, but for all the times I made you feel stupid about maths. You're actually brilliant at it, and you're a really good teacher too."
"We're all good at different things," Finn replied generously. "You're brilliant at creative writing, and Jenny's amazing at science. I just needed to find my way with numbers."
"Would you still help me with maths homework?" Marcus asked hopefully. "I promise I'll stop being such an idiot about it."
"Of course," Finn smiled. "That's what friends do."
Because Finn O'Sullivan had learned the most important lesson of all: that mathematics wasn't a collection of arbitrary rules designed to separate clever students from stupid ones, but a beautiful language that described the patterns and relationships that governed everything in the universe. And once you learned to speak that language, once you could see the magic hiding in the logic, the whole world became a more comprehensible and wonderful place.
The magic hiding in maths class had taught Finn that numbers weren't his enemies but his allies, ready to reveal their secrets to anyone patient and curious enough to look beyond the surface and discover the elegant logic that connected everything together in one magnificent, mathematical whole.
And sometimes, the greatest magic of all was helping others discover that same wonder and confidence in themselves.