“Chanel, can you stay behind for a second?” Ms. Hoang calls, beckoning me over to her desk. She flips open a binder and points to what I recognize as my math test. Or a mutilated form of my math test, because more than half the page is marked with red. “I wanted to talk to you about your... somewhat concerning math results.”
I freeze, struck by a horrible sense of déjà vu.
Rainie shoots me a concerned glance, and I force myself to smile like I’m not fussed and motion for her to leave without me, but the déjà vu only grows. This shouldn’t be possible. I’d seen this exact scene playing out in the vision last night, and it’s happening now, beat for beat.
“I’ll find you later,” I tell Rainie, my voice holding strong, even though breathing feels difficult. “Won’t be long.”
While everyone starts shuffling out of the classroom, Ms. Hoang glances up and says, “Ares. Can you stay behind too?”
He lets his bag fall back to the ground. Nods, only once, and makes his way forward, stopping beside me. Just like in the vision. I feel physically ill, lightheaded. I try to breathe in, but all I inhale is his scent—it’s like the aftermath of a fire, the burnt, barely sweet notes of smoke.
“Thank you,” Ms. Hoang tells Ares, then fixes me with one of her classic stern, over-the-spectacles looks, the one that tends to precede a lecture or detention. “Look, Chanel,” she says, drawing in a deep breath. “I didn’t want it to have to come to this. But I am extremely concerned about your math grades. You barely touched the last page in this test—and no, drawing a sad face and writing ‘Sorry!’ in the working-out space will not help you earn any pity marks.”
I clear my throat, my cheeks burning. I’m carrying so much dread inside my body that I didn’t think there’d be any room for embarrassment, but it’s still humiliating to have my failures aired like this for Ares to witness. I already know that I’m not smart, but doeshehave to know as well?
Ms. Hoang tuts softly, shakes her head, seems unsatisfied by her previous tutting and tuts some more. “Do you know what your current average is?”
Something awful. Something that would probably send Alice into a state of shock if it were to appear on any of her tests.
“It’s fifty-two percent,” Ms. Hoang says, her voice grave. “And that’s me beingvery,very generous already, Chanel.” She sits down on her leather armchair and heaves a heavy sigh, like this conversation is sapping her strength. “I don’t want to fail you. I think you’re a bright young woman with lots of potential, and I understand you have far more social demands than I ever did when I was your age. But you seriously need to get your grades up. You may have heard about our school’s robust peer tutoring program. The program will officially commence next week, and luckily for you, Ares here will be available to help you—”
“What?”I actually step back in alarm. “What do you mean—”
“Getting mentored in math by a fellow classmate will be highly beneficial for you, Chanel,” Ms. Hoang says, like this is the most reasonable suggestion in the world. Like she’s not making me learn algebra with an arsonist. “Although Ares hasn’t been with us for long, his math grades are perfect.”
Even through my panic, this registers with some surprise. I’ve never even seen Ares answer a question in class, and the only time I’ve glimpsed one of his scores was the forty percent he got for his English essay. I’d figured he was flunking allhis subjects, just like I am.
Out of the corner of my eye, I check Ares’s face for his reaction, but other than the faintest crinkling of his brow, he gives nothing away.
“Is there a problem, Chanel?” Ms. Hoang asks, her mouth thinning into a hard line.
Yes, many problems,I think.He hates me. He’ll hurt me. He wants my house to burn.
“Can’t I just... study by myself?” I ask desperately.
“You need the help,” Ms. Hoang says. “If you can score higher than ninety percent on your next test, then I might reconsider the arrangement. But for now, I’m going to ask you to please cooperate. This isn’t optional, Chanel.”
“But—”
“I don’t think you’re grasping the severity of the issue,” Ms. Hoang speaks over me, her patience visibly wearing thin. “If you fail this class, you won’t be able to graduate. Maybe you’re under the impression that your parents’ wealth will insulate you from failure your whole life, Chanel, but this isn’t something that money can fix. You have to fix it yourself.”
Her words land like a punch. I swallow, my face prickling, my protests drying in my throat. Is that what she thinks of me? Just another spoiled girl who relies on her parents for everything?
I dart another look at Ares, who shifts for the first time, betraying the slightest reaction, but I can’t tell if it’s because he agrees with the teacher. If that’s what he thinks of me too.
“Thanks again for all your help, Ares,” Ms. Hoang says in a much friendlier tone. “If you have any questions, feel free to shoot me an email.”
Ares shrugs and makes a noncommittal sound.
And with that, the teacher gathers her papers and heads out of the classroom, leaving me alone with the very last person I want to be near.
“Since when were you involved inpeer mentoring?” I can’t help asking. Can’t help hoping that this might be a gross misunderstanding I can wriggle my way out of.
Ares turns slowly to face me. “Since I had five unexplained absences in a row, the school threatened to kick me out if I didn’t make some kind of contribution.” He cocks his head. “What, you don’t want me to tutor you?”
“I... it’s not that,” I lie. “I just—”
“Then why are you so jumpy?” he asks, his brows furrowed as he studies me, like he’s trying to understand a book written in his third language. “Is it because of last night? Are you scared or something?”
