“Can I help you?” asked the woman not much older than me seated at the front desk of the tutoring center.
“Yeah, um,” I stumbled over my words as I played with the bottom button of my chambray oxford. “I’m looking for a tutor … I mean … I am in need of a tutor.” I rested my arms on the counter that separated us.
“What subject?” she asked, her eyes going from me to her desktop computer; her fingers rested lightly on the keyboard. She had great nails. A fresh manicure for sure. The blush color was perfect for her skin tone.
“French,” I said. “Also, if I could have access to copied notes, that would be awesome,” I added as I looked around the tutoring center nervously. There were two students huddled over a textbook to the left, whispering animatedly. A guy playing online Scrabble, the only person at a bank of five computers. A person reading the paper, face obscured by the pages, but legs crossed ankle to knee. Another guy seated with his back to us, alone at a large circular table, his head bowed.
“And your name, please?” she asked.
“Edie, Edie Kits,” I said, stumbling over my own name, caught off guard because my mind had wandered.
“Which French?” she asked.
“Um, 102,” I stumbled again. “Please.” I lifted my index finger to my mouth, my nail touching my teeth before I scolded myself.
The woman tapped on the keyboard, then looked over her shoulder and into the large room behind her. “You’re in luck,” she said, swiveling her chair away from me and toward the room. Her words and smile said I was lucky, but her tone said otherwise. “Usually I’m the languages tutor, but I’ve been promoted to secretary.” She rolled her eyes, using air quotes around promoted, trying to make a joke. I was too nervous for jokes. “We happen to have a French tutor available right now.” She pointed to the person with his back to us as she bit at her bottom lip.
“That’s great,” I said with zero confidence. “Thank you.”
I watched as she walked toward him. I guess shouting across the tutoring center was a no-no. I would have to remember that since shouting was one of my calling cards.
She had a great style. Charcoal ankle boots, black-patterned tights under ripped jeans, and an off-the-shoulder buttermilk-colored loose-knit sweater. She tapped the guy on the shoulder, a broad smile on her face as her fingers lingered on him. He lifted his head in response. A head I recognized. A head with a maroon beanie and short brown hair peeking out at the nape of his neck.
“This is—”
“Yeah, we’ve met,” I interrupted as I brought my index finger to my mouth again, but pulled it away just as quickly.
“Makenna, would it be possible for Edie and me to use the testing room?” he asked. “Edie has a hearing thing that hinders her concentration.”
What. The. Hell. Would I forever be the girl with the hearing thing? Why would Hudson describe me like that to her? Makenna. A person I didn’t even know. And why was he doing it in the middle of the tutoring center, where anyone and everyone could hear? And hinders? Who even uses that word?
“I don’t think that’s necessary, Makenna,” I said, holding my hand up to her, my eyes on Hudson. “I don’t have a hearing problem. This is plenty quiet for me.” I knew I was starting to get loud and I needed to check myself. Dial down the defensive tone in my voice, too.
The entire vibe had changed, and not for the better.
Makenna hesitated. “Of course you can use the testing room.” She looked as though she’d stepped into a puddle of mud. If she could have tiptoed away, she might have.
I probably should have thanked her for her help, but instead I stood there dumbfounded as she made her way back to her desk to assist a student who had been waiting.
“So, when do you want to start?” Hudson asked. He took a step away from me and toward the table at which he’d been seated.
I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He had said he would tutor me, but seeing him in the room didn’t compute. I never told him I wanted him as a tutor.
“We can compare schedules,” he said, walking backward. “Have my people call your people.” He scrunched his nose in what would have normally been an absolutely adorable way.
“I don’t think this is going to work,” I blurted, gaining the attention of pretty much everyone. I was absolutely the loudest thing in the room.
“What? Compare schedules?” he asked in a forced whisper as he picked up his planner.
I closed my eyes and ran both hands down my face with complete disregard for my makeup and hair. When I opened my eyes, Hudson was standing in front of me.
“Can you just walk over to the table, please? Literally everyone is staring right now,” he said. His eyes were on mine, but then shifted quickly to the left and the right. Not embarrassed, just observational.
I didn’t have the courage to look around the room to verify that literally everyone was staring at me. I nodded as I followed him to the table.
“I can do next week.” He flipped a page in his planner. “Wednesday at seven?” he asked as he looked at the book.
“Sure,” I muttered.
“Aren’t you going to check your schedule?”
“No,” I said as I looked him in the eyes, finally regaining my emotional balance. This wasn’t going to work. There had to be some sort of conflict of interest in here somewhere. Between him telling the secretary that I had a hearing problem and the fact that I still felt like he was only doing this because he felt sorry for me, there didn’t seem to be a place for us to meet in the middle.
CJ had urged me to give him a chance, and in all honesty, I wanted to, but we weren’t off to a great start.
“No because you know you’re free and don’t need to check it, or no because you aren’t going to schedule a time with me?” A small smile started at the corner of his mouth. I knew he said that last part to be funny, but the real funny part was that it wasn’t actually funny at all.
“Both.”