As Caleb explains the last section to me his words come fast, and he has this nervous energy about him like he’s really pumped up about math.
He might as well be speaking another language.
“Easy, right?” He smiles at me and the knot in my stomach tightens.
No, it’s not fucking easy. Or if it is, then I’m an idiot. Which is more likely. I run a hand over my hair and try to smile back at him, but I’m sure it’s more like a grimace.
“Definitely not as difficult as that pass you made at the end of the last game. God, I still can’t stop thinking about it. You and Keller were unstoppable.” He offers me his fist and I awkwardly bump mine against his. I feel bad that he seems to genuinely want to help me but hasn’t at all because the words he’s saying don’t make any sense.
And he can’t stop talking about soccer. At every break in conversation, he brings up some old game or stats that I’m shocked anyone knows. Goals, assists, and even my pass completion rate last season.
I had no idea he was into soccer. When I asked him if he went to games, he said he preferred watching replays at home to being crammed into bleacher seats with half the school. At least we have that in common.
“Can we go over the last section again?” I ask.
The bell rings signaling the end of lunch. Caleb waves me off. “You’ve got this. Brayson doesn’t stand a chance and neither does this test. Am I right?”
I wish I were as confident in my test as I am the game. I know what to do in almost any situation on the field, but everywhere else my statistics are bad.
Caleb packs up his stuff into his backpack and stands. “Good luck this weekend. Not that you need it.”
“Thanks.” I nod. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him if he can meet again, but I’m not sure this helped, and I don’t want to waste any more of either of our time.
He waves two fingers and walks out in that same quick way he talks.
As soon as he’s gone, I let out a long breath and lean back in my chair. The hallways are filled with the sounds of opening and closing lockers, hurried footsteps, and happy chatter. I’ve never been particularly into high school. Most of the time people are jerking around, goofing off, engrossed in the drama, and living in the moment. I don’t have time for that. I need to focus. I have too much I want to achieve. Too many people depending on me. Myself most of all.
Sitting up, I toss my stuff in my bag, and I’m about to head out when Rowan is passing by the library. We make brief eye contact, and he doubles back, entering the library with a grin.
“Hey. What are you doing in here?”
“Studying,” I say. “I have an Algebra II test Monday.”
“Ah.” His brows lift and he glances around. “Is Lacey helping you?”
I open my mouth to answer but surprise makes me slow. I haven’t talked to him about getting a tutor.
“I might have overheard something about you needing a tutor.” He gives me a sheepish smile. “I’m glad she’s helping you. She’s so smart. She was a godsend last year in Physics. I don’t think I would have passed without her tutoring me.”
He doesn’t give me time to respond to anything he’s said because the second bell rings, and he says, “Anyway. I gotta go. See you at practice, Cap.”
“Yeah. See ya.” I shuffle out into the hallway. As if I conjured her up by thought, my gaze goes right to Lacey. She’s standing at her locker alone. I move toward her instead of my class. Rowan’s words are echoing in my head. I guess her whole “I don’t tutor people” excuse really meant “I don’t tutor people named Vaughn.”
She shuts the locker door and turns, then freezes to stop from colliding with me.
“Vaughn.” Even the way she says my name is about as unenthusiastic as you can get. Impressive, since every other word out of her mouth is bubbly as can be.
“Thank you for giving me Caleb’s information.”
“You’re welcome. I hope he can help.”
She steps to the side and so do I. Lacey quirks one brow but doesn’t speak.
“You told me you don’t tutor people.”
“I don’t.” There’s a hint of frustration in her tone.
“You tutored Rowan in Physics.”
