I step inside the threshold. “It’s so nice in here. Thanks again for—”
My gaze ticks to my left, where I spot none other than Subwayboy sitting on the couch.
“Hey, Oliver, I invited Sara to study,” Joe’s saying. “We’re going to work at the kitchen table.”
Oliver’s also not in his school uniform, because popular belief aside, he isn’t a robot—Isuppose. Jury may still be out. Similar to me, he wears a drawstring hoodie, only his is teal blue. Butunlike me and more like his brother, he has on dark joggers.
His eyes flick up from the book he’s reading, and he glowers at me before focusing on Joe. “You want me to leave?”
“No, stay. We won’t be loud, will we, Sara?”
“Um.” I swallow. Dang it, why does he have to be here? “I mean, we’ll probably be talking, right?”
Oliver closes his book. “I’ll leave.”
“Really, it’s okay. We’re just going to study,” Joe insists.
“I do have a lot of questions, though. So I may talk a lot,” I push, hoping Oliver continues to take this massive hint and leaves us alone.
“Oh, well, maybe we can whisper or something? But I don’t want you to think you can’t ask me anything. Huh, maybe we should—”
“Whatever, it’s fine.” Oliver collapses back on the couch. “I have earphones. Do whatever you want.”
And then he pops his earbuds in and goes back to his book. I sneak a peek at the cover. Bruce Springsteen’s memoir. Interesting. Oliver’s always listening to music, so I guess that checks out. I would have bet all my money it was calculus related, but maybe this is why I’m so terrible with bets.
This brings me to my current problem. Oliver’s staying. Here. In the room where Joe and I are gonna study.Why?What did I do to deserve this?
“Right! Let’s get started, then.”
Joe leads the way to the kitchen table, pulling out a chair and offering me a seat. So courteous.
As he settles in, I take an opportunity to look around. Two oak bookshelves line the walls behind the modular sofa Oliver sits on, his feet propped on a glass coffee table. It smells a little like leftover ramen and laundry detergent, an interesting combination.
The apartment is the same layout as ours, which isn’t surprising, but it’s less decorated. The walls hold a few framed photographs of Joe and Oliver and someone who looks like their sister, but they’re hung slightly crooked. I wonder if Joe put them up.
Their kitchen is like ours, an open-concept design that faces the living area, but while I decorated ours with embroidered tea towels, vanilla candles, and a pop of sky-blue paint, theirs is plain eggshell white with a stove that looks at least two decades old. Several baskets of snacks are organized on the countertop, though.
“Thanks again for your help, Joe,” I say. “I was going to find a new tutor, but I appreciate you stepping in.”
“Of course. Calculus can get really tough sometimes. We just have to keep trying, you know? If we focus tonight, we’ll be prepared for the real test. And then we can relax and have fun at the school festival tomorrow.”
“Totally,” I agree, perking up. “I’m excited to work as a team on our first newspaper assignment.”
Joe flips through his book. “You’re bringing your cousin, right? Uh—” He peers over at me. “What’s her name again?”
“Vicky? Yes, she’s joining us.”
What I don’t say is that Vicky’s agreed to hop on FaceTime to help me pick out the perfect outfit for this occasion, because if I’m going to get my first kiss from him, I want to look amazing.
“Right, Vicky! Great. Cool, um—okay!” He laughs, twirling his pencil between his fingers. “Let’s do this, then.”
My heart flutters as I pull out my homework. “I had a question about these problems here.” I point. “I can’t seem to get the right answer.”
“Hmm, let me see.”
Joe leans closer, and I track the smell of clean shampoo. How did I get so lucky? Just look at him. He’s so perfect and nice. This moment would be ideal if Subwayboy wasn’t on the couch behind me, ruining everything. He’s probably watching me right now and hoping I fail.
Don’t think about him, Sara.
