“The curiosity will kill me.”
“Nope.”
She places her hand on my arm. Most kids took off their blazers because the heater is on full blast and it’s hot in here. My sleeves are rolled up to my forearms. Sophie’s fingers are so warm and soft. They send a spark down my spine, and I feel hotter than before. My entire body is lit up.
Releasing a breath, she quickly drops her hand, looking away from me. Did she feel it, too?
We sit in silence, with her squeezing her hands between her knees and looking anywhere but in my direction.
My fingers still don’t move because they’re frozen over the keyboard. I just can’t move them as I relive the feeling of her warm fingers on my skin.
I’ve never felt that before.
I’m not sure how much time passes before she clears her throat, shifting in her seat. That snaps me out of whatever tranceI’m in and I force my fingers to move and finish up my lab report.
Then it’s her turn to start the second experiment. Her voice shakes a little as she explains out loud what she’s doing.
I can’t stop thinking about what happened. Why would her touch have such an effect on me? Does it mean something? Was it just random? Is it a typical boy/girl thing? It doesn’t feel like it.
When class is over, Sophie tells me she’ll meet me later and flees out the door. It’s lunch time and I’m glad I can be alone to relive that feeling again.
I’m on my way to my locker to stash my backpack inside when my phone beeps with a text. Mom wants me and Sophie to meet her in her office.
Great. So much for being alone with my thoughts.
As I turn the corner to head for the exit, I smack into someone, sending them flying toward the floor. I grab their hand a bit too tightly and quickly that they slam into my chest.
“Oomph,” Sophie mutters, her lips pressed to my white shirt. She’s sending off so much heat that I feel weird again.
She backs away, playing with her hair. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Sorry if I hurt you.
“No, you didn’t.”
“Good. Did my mom text you?”
“Yeah.”
“Same. I wonder what she wants.”
Now, as we walk to the office, all I think about is her face pressed to my chest. And how…good it felt.
The secretary in the office tells us that the principal is waiting for us. I follow Sophie inside, where Mom tells us to sit down in front of her desk.
She bends forward. “It’s been two weeks since you started tutoring Damian, Sophie. I’d like an update.”
“Damian is doing very well.” Sophie smiles at me. “He’s basically caught up in all his classes and he’s completing his assignments and the extra work I give him every night. And he’s doing well on his quizzes and tests.”
She nods. “Your teachers have been informing me of your improvements, Damian. I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”
I don’t say anything, not really appreciative of everyone getting in my business. But I don’t blame Sophie because none of this is her fault. She’s just trying to help.
“Does this mean he doesn’t need a tutor anymore?” Sophie asks. I can’t tell from the tone of her voice if she wants to be free from her duties. As much as I hate our sessions, I like spending time with her. And once that’s done, our relationship or whatever you want to call it, is done, too.
Mom shakes her head, clasping her hands together. “It’s only been two weeks and I don’t want him to fall behind. I’d like you to continue tutoring him for a while longer.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I grunt. I don’t want the sessions to end because I don’t want us to end, but Mom doesn’t have to know that.
