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Except she didn’t. “I didn’t even know this door locked,” she muttered to herself, trying again to force it open.
I reached out to check to see if there was a lock, and that was when I felt Connor’s hand wrapped around the doorknob. His knuckles were taut beneath my fingers, holding the knob firm so it didn’t turn. As long as it didn’t turn, the latch wouldn’t pop undone.
His reflexes were insane. Maybe that was why he made for a good football player.That and those muscles…
Maisie, get a grip.
Connor and I stood impossibly close, holding our breath and waiting for the moment to pass. My eyes were starting to adjust to the near-blackness, and I could see the faint slope of Connor’s jaw inches from my eyes.
Mom gave up trying to force the door open, and after a moment, her and Madison’s voices faded. It took us both several moments to thaw from our frozen positions. “We should get going,” I whispered to him, too afraid to talk too loudly. “I have to drop you off at your car.”
“Okay.” The one word was practically a reverberation in the air, spoken in a low enough tone that the goosebumps were back. The knob made a soft creaking sound as Connor twisted it open, letting in a sliver of light into our dim space. Enough to illuminate a section of his face, and his eyes seemed to glow. Closer than ever before, I could see the individual flecks of green in his eyes, tiny pools coiling in the brown, almost like a painting themselves. “Lead the way.”
It rained Wednesday morning, heavy enough to begin flooding the football field, according to the PA system. During last period, one of the secretaries made a school-wide announcement that cut into Mrs. Diego’s explanation about limits and continuity.
“Attention all J.V. and Varsity football players: practice for today is canceled due to the rain.”
Because that is definitely necessary for everyone in the school to know. I knew what the turn of events meant, though. If Connor didn’t have football practice, that meant we could tutor right after school. I wouldn’t have to linger in my car for an hour, roasting because the coupe could barely cough out enough AC.
Then again, where would we go to tutor today? If we met up while everyone was filtering from the school, someone would see us together. The problem-solver in me went into overdrive trying to figure out a possible alternative.
We couldn’t go to any restaurants or cafés around here in case anyone from school had the same idea. Not the school’s library or public library, since Connor seemed allergic. Definitely not my house. If I thought the attention I got from her now was bad, I couldn’t imagine the living hell she’d turn my life into if she knew I was hanging around her boyfriend.
What kind of living hell would she give me, too, if she’d known how close Connor and I had gotten Monday? Remembering what his chest had felt like, the brief touch of muscles, sent my brain into a tailspin.
I needed to get a grip.
When the dismissal bell sounded, I was quick to pack up my things. “Maisie,” Mrs. Diego called, slowing down my retreat. She waited until every student had left the room before speaking again. “I wanted to check in with you. How is the tutoring coming?”
“Good.” The breakthrough Monday had gotten us further than I would’ve thought. Learning that Connor could recall things better after writing them down made for an easier way to tutor—the night before the session, he’d copy down the instructions for the next chapter, and we’d work through any questions that he had the next day. “I think he’s starting to remember the material now. It’s a lot to review in a few weeks, but I think we’ve found a good pace.”
Mrs. Diego glanced at the door before stepping closer, lowering her voice. “Mrs. Oliphant sent me an email yesterday. She’s told me to only test him on half of the units—so two units instead of four.”
I blinked. Half of the initial exam—evenlessthan what his peers had tested on last May. “Why?”
“Like you said, it’s quite a lot to go over in only a handful of weeks.”
Little baby fire ants marched underneath my skin, leaving a trail of heat. We were already almost finished with unit two. If she was slashing the amount he needed to learn in half, there was no question at all whether or not he’d pass. With so little to cover, his A was practically guaranteed.
I clenched my bag strap tighter, pulling it hard against my neck. “It’s not really fair that he isn’t tested on all the material like everyone else was.”
“Believe me, I’m on the same page as you with that.” Mrs. Diego rubbed her fingers against her temple, leaning against the edge of her desk. “I’m glad he’s absorbing the material, but we’re jumping through a lot of hoops for him.”
It was all I could do to not dig in my heels, to not snap at the unfairness of it all. “Why is this happening, again? Because of some sort of clerical error? He’s getting so many free passes because someone screwed up?”
Mrs. Diego sighed a little, but before we had a chance to carry on the conversation, a student walked in with a Calculus question.
The resentment built back as I walked out of Mrs. Diego’s classroom, much more annoyed than I’d felt when I walked in. They were cutting the exam down to practically nothing. What would be next—the only question on the test was going to be his name?
Alex found me on my way to my locker. “Got much homework?” he asked in greeting. “I have a mountain of math. Maybe I should have you tutor me, huh?”
“Sorry, my roster’s full this semester.” Full of star football players getting preferential treatment.
Alex trailed behind me as I got to my locker, and a few doors down from mine, a homecoming poster hung taped to the metal. The homecoming dance was a little over a week and a half out, the first Saturday of October, but people were already hunting around for dates. Rachel had turned down two proposals last week. I glanced at my boyfriend from the corner of my eye.
Quite honestly, I’d forgotten all about homecoming. I hadn’t even gotten a dress yet.
He watched me fiddle with my combination. “It feels like I need you to tutor me if only to get a little time with you.”
