I worked it out with my peer counselor. I’m getting dual credit for Calc 1 at the same time
My chin jerks back. “You’re in both classes?”
He points to the paper with a stern pen, and I sigh heavily before complying.
You’re in both classes?
No. Private tutor for Calc 1.
Ohhhh. Who’s the tutor?
Suddenly fine with direct communication, he turns to me and waggles his eyebrows.
“What?” I ask, confused. He goes back to the paper, jotting quickly.
You. You’re the tutor.
“I’m sorry, what?” My voice is much louder than intended, and several sets of eyes jerk in my direction, including Drew’s. Seemingly for the first time, he recognizes the guy beside me as Ace, and his consternation grows.
But Ace just goes back to writing on the paper before sliding it back my way.
Relax. You don’t have to actually tutor me. At least not really. You just have to help me through this and teach me what I need to know and then sign off that you tutored me. If I pass this my peer counselor said they’ll go ahead and credit calc 1
I blink hard as my vision blurs for a moment.I’m supposed to be his tutor?Like, what the hell is going on? I scribble down a response.
I don’t know how the hell you pull these things off. That’s insane. No college would EVER go for that.
He just grins at me again before jotting something down.
Until now. It would seem they’re actively going for it
I blow out a breath.
I truly can’t believe you and how you manage these things. You don’t even know how to use commas.
It’s a genetic gift Jules. I can’t explain it any other way. As for the commas you can teach me that too.
I grab his paper and add them where they’re needed in that very statement, circling for dramatic effect.
Which only makes Ace’s nearly permanent grin grow more.
See? You’re already teaching me things. This is going to work out great.
He turns to face the front again, and I do my best to shift my focus to my new teacher and the board as well. Evidently, I’m in charge of two people’s college fates now, whether I like it or not.
The teacher continues his first day spiel, assigning us a practice sheet and several pages in the textbook to read before next class so we’re not going into the lesson blind, and I jot the information down in my planner on autopilot.
For Ace’s part, he takes active notes—not that I can make any sense of them—and focuses hard on Professor Emmsy’s every word, but by the time he dismisses class fifty minutes later—declaring his congratulations that the seats we’ve picked today will be our official seats for the rest of the semester—I feel like my skin is crawling.
I’m confused. I’m a little angry. And I don’t understand what the hell is happening at all.
Ace hands me my pen when I accidentally knock it on the floor and packs up his own belongings, and then he stands in expectation, waiting to walk me out of class. Drew packs up his own stuff, too, and heads toward us, and truth be told, I feel a little like I might explode.
I take a deep breath, willing myself to maintain some semblance of decorum since our professor still lingers at the front of the room,but I can’t deny that my voice is cutting as I ask, “Why didn’t you check with me before signing me up to be your tutor, Ace?”
He jerks back at the tone, and I suck my lips into my mouth before adding, “I just…I already have a full schedule on my plate, and now I’m going to be helping you with this class too.”
“I know,” he apologizes softly. “And I should have asked. But I’m going to pull my weight, I swear. I’m going to pull my weight in all our classes.”
