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He flipped the cover over and passed the wire bound notebook to me, clicking his mechanical pencil a few times. I scribbled down my phone number and then wrote my name above it in case he forgot who the seven numbers alluded to.M-A-I-S-I-E. “This part—” I traced the tip of the pencil along theA-I-Spart. “It makes azeesound. Not aseesound.”
Connor took the pencil from my grip and wrote underneath my letters. His handwriting was smaller, letters a compact doodle.M-A-I-S-I-E.“Maisie,” he echoed. “Zee. Got it. Now that I’ve written it down, I won’t get it wrong again. I promise.”
We both glanced up at each other at the same time, and with our heads bent over the same notebook, we were…close. Too close. I shoved my scooter backward, knocking into a cardboard box. “Uh, where’s your homework? I’ll check your answers.”
Connor took a second to fish out the sheet from between the textbook pages, the corners rumpled. He settled back against the wall and stretched his legs out, but since the space was so cluttered, he couldn’t stretch them fully. “You know, we’ve been meeting for a week, and I know nothing about you. Jozie, apparently, is your sister.”
“Uh-huh. Open the textbook to the next page.”
He obliged, thankfully, because if he’d ignored me, I might’ve hit him. “What’s your favorite color?”
“I don’t have one.”
“Who doesn’t have a favorite color?”
I let out a long sigh through my nose.
“My favorite color, for example, is red. Not bright red, but the shade that’s almost purple? Is that maroon or burgundy? I always get them mixed up.”
I couldn’t keep my composure anymore, and jerked my head up. “Why are you so chatty today?”
Connor gave a lazy shrug. “Just trying to get to know you more. You can’t say you aren’t curious about me too, right?”
“Not really.” But for some reason that I couldn’t explain, Iwaskind of curious about the Connor Bray beyond the football star.
Surprise flickered across his features. “Rude. You could’ve lied.”
A burst of guilt speared through me at the thought of hurting his feelings, but it was so unsettling that I focused back down at the graphs he’d etched onto the piece of notebook paper.
“So, with Alex,” he began, segueing into a new topic. “How are things?”
Even though the kiss had happened only moments ago, the lingering sensation was gone now, replaced by my teeth digging into my bottom lip. Connor would’ve been pleased to hear that I took his play hard to get advice, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit it aloud. “Things are fine. Let’s focus on math.”
“Yawn. How many chapters do we have left?” Connor thumbed through the book at his side, peering at the pages. “Probably about two units worth, right?”
Mrs. Diego must not have told him about the change in schedule, that he only had to learn the first two units. My mind processed the information in a whirl. Should I tell him or go keep going as initially planned? What would it hurt to go over every unit? Pretend as if Principal Oliphanthadn’tforced Mrs. Diego to alter the test and review all the units. He deserved to have to learn all of it, like every other student who might’ve taken the makeup test.
But then that would mean more time tutoring together and more of a risk he’d fail if he’s filling his brain with information he wouldn’t be tested on.
It’s not fair, I thought.One person shouldn’t get so many free passes.
“You got this one wrong,” I told him, using my heels to scoot myself closer to him. I stopped by his knees, coming as close as I could without running him over. “This can be factored through further.” I went through the process of showing him how everything could be divided out in the rational expression, using the tip of my finger. “It can fully factor to5x(2x+3)(2x+5).”
After a moment of silence, I looked up. He wasn’t focusing on the paper with confusion, though—he watched me the same way he’d regarded the math problem. A complexity that I often regarded Mom’s scribbles with. “Did you memorize the answers to these problems or something?”
“No. Why?”
“You got that within, like, fifteen seconds.” He didn’t seem impressed; his face was more freaked out. Like I’d confessed to him I was an alien with a sixth toe on one foot. “Jeez, you really are a math genius.”
Instead of feeling proud of getting the answer so easily, so quickly, I had the overwhelming urge to clamp my mouth shut and flee from the cramped room. His words might’ve been innocent enough, but they triggered an avalanche of other thoughts, other voices ringing in my ears.Marry a Math Book.
“Was that the only one?”
I blinked, tearing my eyes away from the paper as he took it back. “What?”
“Is that the only one I got wrong?” Connor tipped his head to peer at me. From how close I sat and how slouched against the wall he was, our eyes were nearly at the same level. “I’m doing pretty good, huh? Guess I needed this one-on-one time with the biggest brain at Brentwood High.”
“It’s okay that I like math,” I said, the defensiveness in my voice enough to plow down a linebacker. “It’s not that big of a deal. It’s not weird.”
