I snap the compact shut. “Fine. I get it.” Sighing, I hide my face in my palms, then glance at Patrick between my fingers. He’s already back to tapping on his phone. “Iwilltell him, you know. And then? I’ll apologize.”
“Mm-hmm,” he drones. “Sure.”
It’s clear he doesn’t believe me, and why should he? I barely believe myself.
“It’ll be incredibly awkward,” I go on. “But it’s the right thing to do.”
“Right, okay.” He keeps typing. “Good luck.”
This gets on my last nerve. I leap from my seat and slap my hands on the table. My dramatic display gets his attention.
“Why are you being like this? Iamgonna tell him.”
“I’m not sure why you’re making this a big deal, but I’m in.” He sets his phone down, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Let’s turn it into another bet. You tell himtoday.”
My hand extends in front of me before I can process what I’m doing. “Deal.”
Deal?! Did I really just say that?
Too late. Patrick shakes, and it’s done. I’ve just made another bet.
The door creaks open. I glance over my shoulder to find Oliver shuffling toward us, textbook tucked under his arm, wearing his signature no-nonsense expression of eyebrows drawn together, scowling. It’s hard to believe anything in life brings him real joy.
Oliver looks from me, to Patrick, then back to me. “Are you ready to start?”
I nod enthusiastically, already sweating at the thought of fessing up.
Patrick’s on his feet, smirking at me as he reaches for his backpack. “I was just leaving.” As he passes Oliver, he adds, “So nice to meet Sara’s tutor. She’s a very normal and nice girl, but I’m sure you know that. Not weird at all, in fact.” He tosses me a wink. “Bye!”
I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. What an idiot.
If Oliver finds this strange, he doesn’t show it. He just sinks into the seat beside me and flips open his calculus textbook.
“Okay, let’s start from the last chapter.”
There’s no way I’m losing Patrick’s bet. So what if I acted like a fool in front of Joe? Now’s my chance to make up for it. No more secrets, no more awkward disguises. It’s better this way. I’ll finally be able to concentrate on math instead of stressing about clearing the air.
“Um, Oliver?” I lower my scarf. “Before we start, can I talk to you about something?”
He finally looks over at me, giving me his signature unamused expression. “Don’t you have a test next week? Can it wait until after?” He’s already turned back to the book. “Let’s go over your homework from yesterday, then we’ll move on to the next lesson. Convergent and divergent series. Then, if a series converges, we’ll determine its value. You’ll see—but stop me if you have any questions.”
Gah!Subwayboy, you’re making this confession very difficult.
I slide over the homework Mr. Day handed back earlier today. It’s been graded already, and only half my answers are correct.
Oliver studies it for a minute and then says, “Okay, let’s start with this one.” He taps the first problem with his pencil. “This process is complicated, so listen carefully.”
If he wants to get down to business, fine. Go ahead. Let’s study! But at the end of this session—oh, just you wait, Subwayboy. I’m going to tell you everything. Because I, for one, am not chickening out this time. Nope. Not me. Today’s the day I become a little braver. Wait and see, Patrick. I’mnotlosing this bet.
As Oliver carries on about series, my brain feels like a marshmallow roasting over an open fire. Unfortunately, unlike said marshmallow, nothing is sticking. I’m barely following Oliver’s lesson, unsure what, exactly, I can ask that will make this easier. All the formulas blur together, and my eyes glaze over.
“Hey,” Oliver snaps. “Are you listening? Does this series converge or diverge?”
“Uh—”
“First you have to write the partial sums.” He demonstrates in his notebook. “So this sequence diverges, which means the series also diverges. Do you see?”
“Um. Yeah.”
