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“Do you and Mrs. Diegowantme to fail, is that it? Pile on all the homework possible and laugh when he cracks? I already have statistics homework to do—do you know how hard it is to learn two math classes at once?”
I barely stopped myself from pointing out that he’d gotten himself into this mess. I knew it wasn’t helpful to say any of that, or to continue this line of conversation. Because even though Connor hadn’t had much trouble in the first session, this was him stressing out. This was him overwhelmed. It was in the tension around his eyes, the line of his lips. A chaotic sort of energy that pulsed under the surface, like a shaken pop bottle. It was the same way I’d always felt whenever my parents would try to explain their art pieces or when Rachel and Ava gushed over the latest piece of gossip. It was easy to recognize in him after years of feeling it myself.
Before I even opened my mouth, my cheeks heated, my insides already withering at the prospect of what I’d say next. For every student I’ve tutored in the past, though, this was an important step at keeping them from giving up entirely. When things got too stressful, too tense, it was important to switch topics to give them a break. And that was what I did.
All I had to do was kiss my dignity bye-bye.Ugh.“It’s your turn.”
Connor tilted toward me then, raising an eyebrow that didn’t look interested in the slightest. “My turn?”
“You said you made a curriculum. For…love advice.”
Nowthere was interest in his eyes, sparking behind the hazel color. It waved away the cloud of worry that’d been lingering there a moment ago. “Ah, so youwereinterested in that, huh?”
“You were the one who offered.”
“Andyouwere the one who said no thanks.” He tilted his head, brown curls catching in the sunlight. “You really want to take me up on the offer?”
Okay, now I was seriously regretting changing the subject. “You can wipe the smirk off your face.”
“You gave me a hard time about needing a math tutor. Isn’t it fair I give you a hard time?”
I grabbed my satchel and stood, glaring over him. “Never mind. Take me back to my car. I have plans.” Alex would be picking me up for bowling in thirty minutes.
Connor reached out before I could take a step away from the picnic table and grabbed me fast. His fingers wrapped around my pulse point, and I was sure that my heart spiked with anger. I distinctly remember telling him not to touch me. “We’ll start off with a big one,” he said.
I waited, but he didn’t go on. “A big one?”
“Physical touch.” His fingers loosened around my wrist, but he didn’t immediately let go. He held my gaze, almost daring me to retreat first. “A lot of guys like to be touched. Like when someone runs their fingers through our hair?Mmm. It’s the key to our hearts.”
I tried to think back to pinpoint a time I’d ever combed my fingers through Alex’s hair. He had soft curls, so itwaspossible, but was that something I should’ve been doing?
Connor drew the tip of his finger along the backs of my knuckles, the tingling pressure shooting across my skin in a way that made me swallow. I tugged my hand back without thinking, my overreaction to the simple touch causing him to grin. “Touch his hair,” he said. “Or his biceps. Back rubs are good. What I’m saying is that physical touch is key. I’m sure there’s a science behind it or something, but all I know is that it works.”
I turned away from him, knocking the knuckles he’d touched against my textbook. Physical touch. Easy enough. “I’ll have to try it tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“We’re going bowling tonight at Allen’s Alley.” Speaking of, I glanced down at my phone.Twenty-five minutes. “We’re meeting at six, so I should get going. Can you take me back to my car?”
Connor got to his feet and planted his palms on the picnic tabletop. “You’ll have to tell me how it goes. And don’t worry, for our next session, I’ll come up with some more advice.” He winked at me and picked up his book. “You know, tutor to tutor.”
“Who’s the bowling queen?” Ava demanded as she thrust her arms into the air, gazing triumphantly at the toppled bowling pins. The screen above the lane flashed with an anthropomorphic beaver holding up a sign that readSTRIKE, flaunting a seriously creepy grin. “Ava Freaking Jenson!”
I bit down on the straw to my soda, unable to fight off a chuckle. “It’s easy to get a strike with bumpers, Ava.”
“Don’t be a hater becauseyoucan’t get strikes,” she returned, practically skipping back to the seat beside me. “Rachel, you’re up. But I’m sorry in advance, because you can’t topthat.”
Rachel flipped one of her Dutch braids over her shoulder. “Has anyone ever told you that you take bowling too seriously?”
Alex, who sat at my other side, nodded. “You really do, Ava.”
We’d only been at the bowling alley for twenty minutes—we had to wait the first ten for a lane to open up—but we’d already gone through three rotations. After Rachel, I was up next, and notably doing the worst in the entire group. Even with bumpers.
“I got a new tip earlier today,” Ava said, scooting closer to me and angling her cell so I could see. “Apparently Landon Settler has a new girlfriend. Whichmakes him the first of the MLT’s to remedy their casting.”
I frowned. “Remedy their…casting? What does that mean?”
“He was voted Most Likely To: Never Get A Girlfriendand here he is, with a girlfriend. So he’s the first to prove the list wrong. Before I post, though, I have to confirm it.”
