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She looked determined. “Owen, I get that most of your life you didn’t know about this, but now that you do, you can work with it. I’m not an expert, but I do work in the tutoring center at school. I’ve picked up a few things that will help.”
“You really don’t want to take this on,” I told her.
“You kidding? I’m just doing this so I’m not stuck with you for an extra year.” She smiled. It’s a kind smile. No judgment. No opinion. Just a plan of action and a belief that I’m not a lost cause.
I fade back to the present.
Sitting here in Book Smart, I’m realizing how important her belief in me was all those years ago.
And how much I miss it now.
I’m standing off to the side, wondering where Emmy is and dreading sitting under Lindsay’s watchful eye.
“Emmy’s gone.” It’s Reagan, the teenage employee with the nose ring.
I frown. “Gone where?”
She shrugs. “Said she didn’t want to do this anymore and left out the back door. Probably driving around rage singing.”
“Rage singing?”
“Crank the music really loud and sing at the top of your lungs?” She says this like it’s common practice. My expression must communicate that it’s not because she waves me off. “You’re on your own for this. Have fun with your girlfriend.”
“She’s not my—” But Reagan has already walked away.
I pull out my phone and text Emmy:
Owen
You okay?
I see the three dots appear and then disappear.
“Okay!” Lindsay looks at her watch, then at me. “Where’s Emmy?”
“I think it’s just me.”
She frowns. “That wasn’t the deal.”
“Well, I guess she changed her mind,” I say.
Lindsay shakes her head. “Unbelievable.”
“She’s been through a lot.”
She appears not to hear me. “She said she’d do it.”
“She’s entitled to change her mind.” I meet her eyes, and in a moment of boldness, I chide, “Of all people, I would think you know all about that.”
Lindsay’s eyes dart to mine. “Do you have something to say, Owen?”
I feel heat flare on my neck and my muscles tighten in my arms. It takes every bit of self-control not to yell exactly how I feel.
In the intensity of the moment, I picture Emmy’s face on the dock. The breeze off the water. The lazy calmness of the cattails, bending in the wind.
I calm down.
“No, Lindsay.” I straighten. “I don’t.”
