I should have been studying. Every spare minute of every day leading up to mid-terms should have been spent studying, but I was so nervous about this whole tutoring thing that I had allowed myself these last few minutes before my appointment with James to read the last chapter of my favorite novel.
Before that, I had opened up the computer window and logged in to make sure I wouldn’t have to fumble later when it was time. Then I’d taken the old dog-eared novel off my shelf, flipping to the best part. Normally, it would have been enough to calm my racing heart but not today. I wasn’t just nervous, I was wound so tight I jumped and even squealed a little when the laptop beeped and booped, telling me James was calling.
“Hello?” I heard his deep voice coming from my computer. “Celia?”
Okay, so I guess I didn’t have to answer anything. The noise must have just been notice that he had arrived. I tucked the book under my covers and got up off my bed.
“Just a second,” I said, patting my hair and tugging at my shirt before I took a deep breath and sat down at my computer.
“Okay,” I said, pasting a smile on my face and looking at my laptop screen. “Hi.”
And there he was, giving me something of a smile, I guess, though he looked as serious as I would have expected. Like he was sitting painfully on whatever was stuck up his butt. I cursed myself for being mean when he was here to help me. Well, not here literally. But he may as well have been; I’d thought it would be weird to hold our sessions over the computer, but the sound was good and the screen was very crisp. I could see in the big window that he was every bit the part of the computer nerd with his thick-rimmed glasses and slightly long, light brown hair. He had full lips and high cheekbones, though I couldn’t tell what color his eyes were; maybe hazel or light brown. Either way, he was okay-looking, if it wasn’t for the dorky stick up the butt thing.
“So you obviously managed to get the interface worked out,” he said, thankfully oblivious to my ogling. “I told you it wouldn’t be difficult.”
It seemed like he was trying to be encouraging, so I didn’t tell him Kaylee had been behind getting me set up. He didn’t need to know I was lacking in everything.
“Right. So,” I said, hoping he would take the lead. “I’ve never had a tutor before.” Obviously, just look at my marks.
“Well, it’s nothing you really have to worry about. Just think of me as a friend who’s going to help you through your school...why are you shaking your head?”
“Trust me. I can’t think of you as a friend. I’ve tried to let friends help me before and it’s never gone well.”
“Why’s that?”
I sighed. “I get a little crabby. And by a little crabby, I mean homicidal.”
“Noted. So we’re not going to be friends.” He didn’t smile at my joke and I wondered if he took me a little more literally than intended.
Okay then.
“First thing,” he said in his teachery voice. “Phone off. You touch a cell phone once during our sessions and we’re done.”
Seriously? I just stared at him. Well, at the screen. But he sure didn’t look like he was teasing.
“I’m serious,” he said. “Call it a pet peeve or whatever you want, but I won’t tolerate it.”
“Like, done for that day?”
He shook his head. “No, done permanently.”
“That’s a little extreme, isn’t it?” I asked, irked. I mean, Shane got angry about it, but he’d never thrown anyone out of the kitchen for it.
He shrugged. “If you want me to help you, you should be one hundred percent focused during our time together. If you can’t do that, then maybe you don’t really want my help enough. I’m not going to waste my time on someone who isn’t committed to improvement.”
Wow. Okay then. Hard to imagine a stuffy eighty-year-old teacher behind that pretty face, but there it was. “But you get paid no matter what happens.”
His eyes widened like I’d scandalized him. “I’m not solely in this for the money. I do actually want to help people with what I do.”
“So why don’t you do it for free if you’re such a caring person?”
He smirked. “I said not solely for the money. It’s still a job.”
He did go to Westwood, so unless he was on scholarship, he likely didn’t need the money, but maybe he was like Emmie and earned money to give it away to charities. Or maybe he had an internet porn addiction he didn’t want his parents to know about. I could see that, since he obviously loved his computer so much.
“Fine,” I said.
“Fine what?”
Why did it feel like I was talking to my father? If my father was a whole lot stricter, that is. “Fine, I’ll put my phone away. Do I get a free pass right now to turn it off?” I added a silent ‘sir’ to the end of my sentence.
“Yes. Go ahead.”
I grabbed the device and turned the ringer off and then shoved it into my desk drawer, just to completely avoid temptation. I couldn’t afford to lose him as a tutor; mid-terms started next week.
“Anyway,” he went on once I settled in front of the computer again. “I got your educational record.”
I cringed. Nothing like having your failures out there on display. I waited for him to do a run-down of all of them.
“It appears algebra is your biggest challenge this term.”
Tell me something I don’t know. “Yes.”
“All right. Let’s go over your last test; I think that’s the best place to start.”
That’s it? That’s all he wants to say about my marks? No, “You’re a huge failure,” or “Why didn’t you do better?” or even a “Boy, I sure have my work cut out for me...”
I realized I’d been staring at him when he said, “Is that okay with you?” But by his tone, I could tell he wasn’t really asking if it was okay as much as trying to get my attention.
“Oh, uh yeah,” I said, looking around my room, even though I knew I’d thrown the test out the day I’d gotten it. “But, um. I don’t think I have it handy.”
“No problem.” And then like a zombie back from the dead, my horror show of a test, complete with its failing mark and plenty of red ink all over it, appeared on my computer screen replacing the window with James in it.
“I’d rather have an actual zombie,” I muttered.
“What’s that?” James said, reminding me that just because I couldn’t see him didn’t mean the audio wasn’t live.
“Nothing. I just said that it’s convenient that you have copies of all this stuff.” I guess one of the great things about attending an exclusive private school is that they scan and keep everything. Hooray.
“Right. Okay, so let’s have a look at where you went wrong. Let’s start on question two.”
An hour and a half later and James said our time was up, which was a surprise because it seemed to have gone really quickly. As I leaned back when the document in front of me disappeared, I realized it was a good thing we were done because I suddenly felt like my head was full. Exhaustion washed over me and a sigh escaped me before I even realized.
“Sorry,” I said. “Long week.”
“That was some really good work, Celia,” he said.
“Thanks,” I said, doubtful, but still appreciating him trying to be encouraging. My e-mail pinged and a little window popped up with his name in it.
He must have heard the notification. “That’s tonight’s notes and another practice test, so why don’t you work on that tomorrow morning. Are you good for us to do this again tomorrow afternoon?”
“I don’t know. My brain feels pretty mushy.” Like, forget-my-own name mushy.
“Sleep on it and your subconscious will knit it all together. You watch, when you get up tomorrow, you’ll be fresh and I bet you’ll understand it better.”
“We’ll see.”
“All right. I’ve got to get going. See you here tomorrow at two?”
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks, James.”
He nodded and then with a final beep, he was gone. Just to make sure, I closed the window on my computer and pulled the lid closed, exhaling a deep breath because that had been a very intense hour and a half. I looked at the clock beside my bed. Actually, it had been closer to two hours, but whatever. If I had to pay him extra, it was worth it. I’d gone through that entire test and somehow he’d made me understand so much more of it than I had before. Not all of it, of course, I mean, he wasn’t some sort of miracle worker, but if I had to write that test right now, I would do a lot better. Sure, everyone’s better when they have all the answers, that little doubty voice whispered in my ear. But I pushed it away, knowing I’d learned some things. And I’d managed to study for almost two full hours without even thinking about my regular distractions even once.
I opened the computer back up and went to my e-mail, opening the message from James. I printed out the practice test to have it ready for the morning. It’s not that I was excited to do algebra, it’s just that I knew he expected me to have done the work before our next session tomorrow afternoon. Best to get that ready for the morning so I could start on it first thing.
As the printer started its familiar whine, I grabbed my phone out of my desk and turned it back on. Good thing I’d turned it off, since I had several texts and alerts, though none from Shane.
I was a little disappointed about that, but reminded myself that the dean’s swanky party was the next day and he was probably busy cooking and worrying about that. I hovered my fingers over his name in my contact list, about to send him a message, but couldn’t think of what to say, so instead, I just scrolled through my messages.
The latest was from Kaylee, telling me she was down the hall in the lounge and would stay there until I let her know I was done with my tutor. I smiled; she really wanted me to do well and if tonight’s session with James was any indication, I was going to. I’d never be an honor roll student, but if I could pass the year, I’d consider that a major success.
I’m done. Brain dead. Bed.
Finishing up. See you soon, she sent back.
I knew she’d want details but I wasn’t kidding about being brain dead and didn’t have enough in me to answer her questions. So I quickly got ready for bed and crawled under the covers. When my arm hit the paperback tucked between the sheets, I shoved it aside and rolled over, asleep practically immediately.
~ ♥ ~
I woke up early the next morning and the second I opened my eyes, I knew I’d never get back to sleep. I didn’t want to wake Kaylee, especially after she’d been so quiet the night before. So quiet that I hadn’t even heard her come in, so after I quietly dressed in sweats, I slipped into my boots and coat before I grabbed my gym bag and headed out of the dorm room. It was way too early to even think about looking at algebra, but I was restless and my muscles were aching for some exercise. Countless lengths in the pool would be exactly what I needed to burn off some energy. Once I worked my body, I could focus on studying.
After the night before, I was actually feeling okay about studying. Hopeful, even. Not any smarter, really, but after we’d gotten over the initial weirdness (at least on my side) of the online thing and having a stranger know so much about my awful school career, I had really made progress. James had been patient and no matter how stupid I felt when he had to repeat things over and over, he never seemed to get aggravated when I didn’t get something. He would just break it down further or find a different way to explain something until I understood. So yeah, I was feeling pretty good about things and eager to get started.
I stopped in my tracks. When had I ever been eager to start studying? Never. I chuckled and shook my head, amazed that a couple of hours and a computer nerd had just completely turned things around for me.
The halls of the dorm were quiet, though I did hear the odd bit of music and even an alarm coming from a room as I passed. When I got to the main floor, I stopped at the dining room, chugged a glass of ice water and grabbed a granola bar to eat on the way out to the rec building, not allowing myself even a glance toward the kitchen.
I braced for a chill as I opened the door outside, but it was milder than I’d expected. Spring was definitely on its way. I smiled, looking forward to longer days and the return to outdoor soccer instead of just drills in the gym. Drills were all fine and good for skills training, but nothing beats running full-tilt down a soccer field on a blue sky day.
I took my last bite of granola bar and tossed the wrapper into a trash can just before I grabbed the handle on the door to the rec center. As I went in, the hum and beat of someone running on a treadmill drifted from down the hall in the fitness room, but I turned the other way toward the locker room that led to the pool deck. I went in and got changed into my sport one-piece and flip-flops before shoving my bag into a locker and heading toward the inner door to the pool, towel in hand.
I stopped dead when I saw the easel-type sign standing in front of the door.
Pool open at 9am.
I glanced up at the clock. It was barely seven. It didn’t make sense; the pool was always open by six. I tried the door out to the pool deck, thinking I could peek in and see what the issue was, but it was locked. Also weird.
Intrigued and without anywhere else to be, I wrapped the towel around myself and ducked out of the locker room back into the rec center hallway. The slap-slap-slap of my flip-flops against my heels echoed as I went the few doors down to the boys’ locker room. It almost never got used since Rosewood is an all girls’ school, but for inter-school competitions and dances, the rec center obviously had to have a boys’ locker room and bathroom. I ducked inside, and turned the corner around a row of lockers toward the door to the pool deck, feeling weird, even though I knew it would be empty.
It wasn’t.
Evan Jenkins—Jenks—stood there, not in his bathing suit. But in his birthday one.