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“Maybe this tutoring Topher thing will be good for you, force you to come out of your shell and speak up.”
“Don’t even say that.”
“So did he text you back yet? I thought maybe while you were on a rampage that you might’ve confessed.”
How did she know me so well?
“I came close. As far as the text, no response yet.”
A beat of silence passed before Scarlett asked, “Do you think he got it?”
I checked my appearance in the mirror above my dresser and grimaced as I ran a hand through my hair. “I don’t see why not. He probably has his phone glued to his hip. There’s no way he hasn’t gotten it.”
“Whoa. I just had a thought. What if it wasn’t really his number. I mean, maybe someone put that up there as a joke and you really texted Principal Bell or something.”
My nose wrinkled at the thought because it would be a pretty good prank. “Ew. Could you imagine? He’s probably getting all these tragic love letters via text from half the high school.”
Scarlett giggled. “It would be the most action he’s gotten in years.”
On second thought, I snagged my favorite baseball cap from the hooks on the back of my door and pulled my long, dark hair into a ponytail through the opening of the cap, then headed back to my bed where I picked up my phone again. “Well, I guess we’ll find out, right?”
“How? If it’s someone else like Bell, they’ll probably just assume it’s a wrong number and delete it.”
“Becauseif it is Topher, there’s no way he’ll ignore it.”
“I’m not following,” Scarlett said, and not for the first time today, I pictured Topher’s face while reading my words and imagined the blow to his ego when he realized not everyone thought his farts were made of rainbows.
“He won’t be able to stop himself. Royals are so used to praise and veneration. It’s how they thrive. His ego can’t handle it. Just you wait and see.”
I stared out at the lush green grass of the soccer field, shielding my eyes from the glare of the sun as my sister expertly weaved in and out of the other players.
Sports had never been my thing. Maybe I really was a nerd because my love of literature and academics trumped all else, always had. And I’d never been ashamed of that. I still wasn’t. My grades and academic accomplishments were something to be proud of. But as I watched Sara fake right, then dart left and rocket the ball into the goal, her teammates launched themselves at her, hugging and high-fiving, and I wondered if I, too, had been good at a sport, maybe I wouldn't be such a social pariah. Maybe I would’ve been accepted. Which led me to the question: Why did brawn outweigh brains every single time?
“Hey, P.”
I turned to see my father hauling himself up the bleachers. He took a seat next to me and patted a shoulder in greeting. He’d learned long ago that hugs were not on the menu for teenagers in public places, unless you wanted them to get ridiculed.
Little did he know, my whole academic career involved being ridiculed. Then again, how could he know? He had enough on his plate trying to provide for his family and play both Mom and Dad, so I kept it from him. Or so I thought. Sometimes I wondered if he secretly knew I got made fun of at school and just ignored it or if he really was that oblivious. Probably the latter, though. Dad wasn’t the type to brush things under the rug. In fact, he was always preaching about integrity.At the end of the day, integrity is all you’ve got. People can strip you of your possessions, money, pride—everything you hold dear—but not your integrity. That’s the one thing they can’t touch.The one thing that’s always yours.
“Hey, Dad.” Glancing over at him as he settled in, I realized how lucky I was. As far as dad’s went, he was pretty awesome.
He smiled at me a moment and his eyes crinkled before he turned his attention back to the field. “How’d the first tutoring session go?”
Of course he’d remember it started today. Dad never forgot anything.
“Eh, it was okay, I guess.” I surveyed my surroundings to make sure nobody was within earshot. “I’m tutoring Topher Elliot, so as you can imagine, it’s a challenge,” I said, even though as far as the actual tutoring went, Topher seemed pretty on top of things. In fact, he hadn’t needed all that much help, which made me wonder why he needed a tutor in the first place.
His head jerked to mine. “You’re tutoring Elliot’s kid?”
I nodded, and his dark eyes clouded with emotion before he turned away again. “So I guess that makes two of us working for an Elliot now.”
He sounded exhausted, I realized, and for the first time since he got there, I looked at him.Reallylooked at him. The slump of his shoulders. The hint of shadows that ringed his eyes like dark crescent moons while his jaw tightened.
“You look tired,” I said, watching him closely.
Then, just as quickly, he scrubbed a hand over his face and the weariness disappeared, replaced with a half-smile.
“What? Oh, it’s nothing. You know how this heat drains me.”
