“That’s probably because I used to give him wedgies and shove him in his locker freshman year. I’ve grown up since then, but he still avoids me like the plague.”
“Geez, I don’t blame him.” Laney grimaces at me.
“I’m not that guy anymore,” I argue petulantly.
“You sure?” she toys with me.
“Yesss,”I cross my arms. “So, how did you end up my tutor anyway?” I’m completely invested in the story now.
Laney looks guilty as she fiddles with the pen she’s holding. “I sort of stepped in.”
“Stepped in how?”
“I felt bad for Julius. He looked so uncomfortable. So, I told Principal Adams that I was your chem partner and was worried about my grade. And maybe it would be better if I was your tutor so we could stay on the same page.”
“And he bought that?”
“Yeah, Julius couldn’t bow out fast enough.” She giggles freely. Man, did I miss that sound.
“So, now you have to put up with me?”
Laney shrugs. “As long as you don’t try to give me a wedgie, things should be fine.”
I laugh. I may not give her a wedgie, but I will definitely try to get as close to her underwear as possible. Ideally, pulling them off with my teeth.
“I’m not making any promises,” I joke.
“I wouldn’t expect you to. I know your M.O.” She eyes me judgmentally.
Ouch.
“Let’s just get to studying,” I suggest. I don’t want her running for the hills before we even get started.
“It’s what I’m here for. Start with history?” She sits back down in the chair at my desk and folds her feet under her legs Indian-style. She looks so cute sitting there, in my room, even though I wish she was in my bed. I shake the thought off—I can keep dreaming. If Laney wanted no part of me before, it couldn’t help my case that she found Darla pawing all over me earlier.
“Let’s read the chapter and do the review questions at the end. That’s the request from most of your teachers. I’m supposed to bring tests to you on Friday. But according to the notes, they can be open book. You sure have the life,” she quips.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I ask defensively.
“Nothing. You’re big man on campus and definitely treated as such.” Laney flips open her history book.
“It’s not my fault I’m good at football.”
“I never said there was anything wrong with being a good athlete. But you can’t deny you get the royal treatment.” She defends her statement.
I sigh. “I can’t change that. It is what it is.” Unless I never play football again. And then my future, and my life, is fucked. “Weren’t there people in your old high school who were popular? Who got to slide on things?”
“Sure, there were.” She smirks, still looking down at her book.
“And it didn’t bother you?”
Laney’s smile gets bigger.
“What am I missing, Lemon?”
She looks up at me with just her eyes. “It was me. I was treated just like you.”
“You?”
