Ezra crossed his arms. “So, do we have a deal or what?”
“I don’t know…” Jake studied Ezra for a moment or two. How on earth could he make Ezra Mitchell cool? Much less, get Ezra a date with Sean. It would take some work. A lot of work. Maybe a couple of miracles. But he’d get free tutoring out of it and a passing Stats grade. No more worries about having to give up the choir or lacrosse, and his father would never know there’d been a problem. He’d be in the clear.
But there was something kind of bothering him.
Jake folded his arms on the table and looked over Ezra for a second. “You really want to change yourself for somebody else?”
Ezra adjusted his Sally Jessy glasses and said a resolute, “Yes.”
“Why don’t you just wait for the right person? Someone who likes you for you.”
“Nobody likes me for me. Trust me.”
Jake felt a little sorry for Ezra, which is something he thought he’d never feel. “People like you,” he fibbed. “Some of the time. I think.”
Ezra shook his head. “Gee, thanks.”
“You do come across kinda abrasive sometimes.”
Ezra leaned an elbow on the table. “It’s like, I’m always worried people are going to be mean to me, so I think if I be rude first, they’ll leave me alone. I got the shit beat out of me in junior high, and part of high school until I joined the choir. I found some real friends, you know? Then I come here, and I’m all psyched I got into the LHU Men’s Choir, because it’s like this big deal, but…”
“But what?” Jake was rapt with attention. He’d never heard Ezra talk so much.
Ezra pushed his Sally Jessy glasses up his nose. “Then I saw all you guys, how cool and good-looking you all were, it made me feel like they’d made a mistake. Like I don’t belong here.”
“Well, Ezra, it’s not really about how you look. It’s about how well you can sing.”
“I guess.”
“And you can sing great.”
“Sure, second tenor.”
“You’ll get first tenor one day. Maybe next year.”
Ezra shrugged. “So, you gonna help me, or what?”
Jake sat back and examined the guy in front of him. Dorky Ezra Mitchell with his frizzy hair, weird shirts, and Sally Jessy glasses—those were going to have to go, by the way—and tried to envision a New Ezra. One that Sean Campbell would want to date. Jake could almost see that New Ezra in there somewhere.
Almost.
And almost was close enough.
“Okay.” Jake reached across the table to shake Ezra’s hand. “You help me pass Stats, and I’ll turn you into the man of Sean Campbell’s dreams.”
“Nice.” Ezra grinned, returning the handshake.
And the deal was done.
Wednesday evening, Jake wasprompt for his tutoring session.
He breezed into the library straight from lacrosse practice in his sweaty clothes, but he’d sprayed himself with Calvin Klein so he didn’t stink too bad, and wet his head under the sink. His golden hair was still damp as he sat in a seat across from Ezra at one of the tables nearest the elevator.
Ezra had been busy with what looked like some complicated math shit, formulas drawn all over graph paper and a textbook full of highlights. He glanced up at Jake as Jake got out his Stats book. Ezra wrinkled his nose. “Are you wearing cologne?”
“A little bit. Why?” Jake noticed Ezra’s T-shirt today hadTree Muggerprinted on it with a cartoon robber holding a pistol to a tree, sayingstick ’em up!It made Jake laugh.
“What?” Ezra said.
