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Prologue
September 2005
I’ve just walked into the tutoring center when I’m greeted with Mr. Taylor’s smiling face. It’s not his normal smile, though — it’s the fake, grimacing smile he presents when he’s about to ask a student to take on a problem.
“Kelsey! How are you?” he asks cheerfully.
Yeah, I’m not in the mood for this crap. “Am I in trouble or are you about to ask me for a favor?” I cross my arms in typical surly teenage fashion, wishing he’d cut to the chase instead of wasting time on pleasantries.
“Oof, something tells me I don’t want to ask you now,” he chuckles. “Uh, how’s your tutoring schedule looking for this semester?”
Not to toot my own horn, but I’m the most sought-after tutor in the school. I’ve taken other kids in my class from Ds and Fs to Bs and Cs — even some A-minuses. Because of this fact, my tutoring schedule is usually packed. “I think I could make room for one more depending on the situation.”
“This particular student needs help in English and Math.” Mr. Taylor looks down and clears his throat. “There’s just one small hitch.”
I resist the urge to groan in response. “Do I want to know?”
“You’d need to work around his football practices and games. Which means that unless you both have a free period that lines up during the school day, he wouldn’t be able to commit to a set schedule.”
Ugh! Tutoring football players, or really athletes in general, is absolute torture — they never take it seriously, which forces me to act like a total bitch in order to get them to cooperate. I learned very quickly that when I try to employ the “nice girl” tactic, I get stomped all over.
“Who is it?” I exhale sharply.
“Joey Brooks.”
My heart swells at the name — I’ve had a huge crush on him since freshman year, but he’s never noticed me. Why would he, when I’m just the nerdy girl who asks teachers for extra homework because I have nothing better to do with my time? He has his pick of girls throwing themselves at him daily — what would he want with someone like me?
I let out another large sigh. There are worse people they could ask me to tutor, I suppose. “Alright, I’ll do it.”
Chapter 1
September 2023
“Alright, everyone — this weekend’s homework will be to read chapter four of The Scarlet Letter,” I announce to my third period sophomores. The collective groan over the fact that I’m giving them homework on homecoming weekend floods my ears. “Guys, it’s one chapter — it’s not going to break your weekend. I know for a fact that at least half of you have a study hall later today, and could easily read it then.”
I constantly get flack from the other teachers because they feel I assign “too much homework.” The thought makes me roll my eyes — I can’t believe how far the standards have fallen for teachers. I like to think that I give a modest amount of homework in comparison to the amount I received as a student eighteen years ago.
The bell rings, snapping me from my thoughts. “Have a great weekend, everyone. Enjoy the game and the dance!”
“Miss Andrews?” I hear a meek voice approach my desk. Daisy Wilson is standing in front of me, looking timid.
“Hi, Daisy. Are you okay?”
“Um, I finished the book last night. I was wondering if, maybe, I could get a head start on the next book you have planned for the semester?” Her voice is so quiet when she speaks, like she’s afraid she’s going to upset me by asking.
I’m floored by the fact that she’s already finished the book — we just started reading it this week. But then again, I’m not surprised in the slightest. Daisy is the definition of an overachiever. Her hand is always the first one up when I ask a discussion question, and she’s always the first one done with quizzes and exams.
“If you’d like to do that, you’re more than welcome to. All of the books for this semester are listed in the course syllabus. My only concern is that you’ll mix up the material when it comes time for the exam on this book.”
She shakes her head quickly. “I won’t — I promise. I’ve already done some practice exam questions online. I know the material pretty well.”
“Well, alright then — have at it. Let me know if you have any questions.”
“Thanks, Miss Andrews.”
Something about Daisy’s demeanor seems… off. She’s shifting back and forth on her feet nervously. It appears that she’s trying to bury herself in schoolwork to avoid a problem. “Is everything okay, honey?”
“Yeah, I just really love to read. I get a little antsy if I don’t have a book to devour.” She flashes a shy smile that fades as quickly as it came. “It’s why all the boys think I’m a nerd.” Her eyes cast downward like she’s ashamed of it.
