“Is there a subject that you’re not doing as well in?”
I ended up looking around. The kitchen was bigger than our entire house, but it had no warmth to it. It felt sterile and hostile.
“Shall we start with the text analysis?”
Jasper lifted his hood and threw the book onto the table.
“That’s not a nice way to tell me to be quiet, is it?”
He giggled, hiding behind a hand, and at that point I sensed that we could manage somehow.
I talked for a full hour straight, and when I saw him yawn, I suggested we take a break. His eyes were quickly glued to his phone, so I used that time to call William, whom I hadn’t heard from.
Maybe I should’ve followed Amelia’s advice and let him come to me, but I wanted to know what we were going to do. Was I really going to meet his parents? That wasn’t a trivial matter; I just wanted to know what time to be there.
After countless attempts, William finally answered.
“Hey, Will, everything okay? I’m at Jasper’s. What time should I come over tonight?”
“June, do you mind if I call you back? I can’t talk now.”
A strange uneasiness gripped the pit of my stomach. “All right.”
We said goodbye after a few sterile sentences, and only then did I realize Jasper was watching me attentively.
“What’s so interesting?”
Holding the pencil between his fingers, he drew a heart with my name and Will’s on top.
“Should I laugh? It looks like a peach! You’re a terrible drawer! Come on, let’s start math.”
I pretended to be mad to make him laugh, but he didn’t take the joke like I’d hoped he would. Maybe he didn’t understand sarcasm. He almost threw the notebook at my head. He stiffened his arm and looked like he was about to throw it, frightening me. But then he didn’t. Even though his face didn’t show anything, it was the first time I saw him express something even remotely close to an emotion.
Should I have apologized? Maybe I should’ve been more tactful. Or maybe Jordan should’ve prepared me for a situation that I was unfamiliar with.
“Hey, you want me to help you with your math homework, don’t you?” He nodded. He was starting to communicate more, that was something.
Jordan came into the kitchen leaving a trail of cologne behind him. His undershirt was wet, and his blond hair stuck to his forehead.
“How’s it going, June? Everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
I looked at Jasper, who didn’t seem remotely disturbed by the fact that he’d just flown into a rage a few seconds ago.
“How’s Jasper?”
“Jasper’s very—”
Quiet . . . but don’t say that.
“Perceptive,” I concluded looking at Jordan.
“Good. I was sure you’d work well together,” he commented, leaning down to his son. He seemed to want to kiss him on the forehead, but ended up pulling back and limiting himself to a firm pat on the shoulder. “I’m gonna take a shower. June, the fridge is full if you want a snack. Make yourself at home.”
“Thank you so much.”
Jordan left the kitchen, and I turned to Jasper.
