“I just have one requirement.” She stands and loops her backpack over one shoulder. “If I’m going to keep dedicating my time to help you, then I need to know you’re going to take this seriously.”
“Nothing could be more serious than this. If I don’t pass, I can’t play soccer.”
“All right, but if you flake or, I don’t know, blow me off to hang with your friends, then I’m out.”
“I’m grounded,” I remind her. But even if I weren’t, there’s no way I’m going to risk failing this test. Not if there’s anything in my power to stop it.
“Do we have a deal?” she extends one hand out to me, all formal and official.
I reach out with my right hand, engulfing her much smaller one in mine and shaking. Goose bumps spread up to my shoulder. “Deal.”
Chapter Eight
Lacey
“Sorry about this,” I say as Vaughn and I sit on the hardwood floor of the gym. We were supposed to meet up at his house again to study, but I forgot the cheerleaders had planned to make signs for the soccer team tonight.
God, I must have really been thrown off last night when we made plans, because making the decorations for the school any time something big is happening is one of my favorite things. I never met a tube of glitter I didn’t like.
“It’s fine,” he says, but he looks about two seconds away from bolting.
All around the gym, my fellow cheerleaders are busy with markers and posterboards. Someone turned on music and some of the girls are singing along.
“It’s supposed to be a surprise,” I tell him. “We’re going to decorate the hallways and lockers too.”
He nods, staring down at the little soccer balls I cut out of construction paper in front of me. I need to add all the players’ names and numbers still.
“How was class today?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Fine.”
I don’t ask him to expand, and Vaughn doesn’t offer up any more details. Sometimes it is actually painful trying to talk to him.
I pull out my notes, and he opens his laptop and brings up a practice sheet. I review one with him and he nods along, but when it’s time for him to do one on his own, he just sits there. His gaze moves up from the screen.
Most of the girls are still in their tight shorts or leggings and sports bras from practice. I guess I can’t blame him for checking them out, but it’s a little surprising. Vaughn never really seems to be that into the attention. And he gets plenty of it.
“I can send them outside in the breezeway if that’ll help your focus.”
“What?” he asks, then shakes his head. “No. I’m not…”
“It’s okay. I get it. Hot girls or math.” I put both hands out in front of me like I’m weighing the two options.
“I’d just like to keep them from witnessing me looking like a complete idiot. It’s humiliating.”
“What is?”
“The whole school knowing that I failed and need a tutor.”
My mouth forms the word “Oh” but no sound comes out. I hadn’t thought about what it must be like for everyone to know he’s struggling.
“So, the last thing I need right now is…that,” he says in a flat tone before returning his gaze to the screen.
“That?”
He motions with his right hand, pencil still gripped in his fingers. “A girlfriend. I don’t have time for anything but soccer. And passing algebra,” he says like it’s just an add-on to do the first. And I guess it is.
I can’t hold in a scoff. He used that exact excuse when he broke up with Claire. It was bullshit then, and it’s bullshit now.
