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“You know what, I asked him to come up to my office. He should be waiting outside. I’ll get him.” Eagerly she dances for the door, clearly proud of the decision she made for me, her little pet project.
Get a fucking cat if you’re this bored with your life, Miss Perry.
The door opens without a sound. She waves her hand dramatically as if she’s doing magic and this so called tutor is the big reveal.
Mentally I sort through all the “hims” it could be. First I think of Damon, though I doubt he’s smart enough to be a tutor. Next, the blonde haired boy who put period blood in my lunch my first day. Then other faces of boys who haven’t been very kind flutters through my thoughts too.
All of them will make my life miserable. Correction, more miserable.
It isn’t any of them that walk through that door. Black hair with strands dropping over his forehead that play over piercing amber eyes. Sleek black glasses that accentuate the perfect sculpture of his sharp cheekbones.
Landon Fucking Scott.
Ta-da. A round of applause. A sweeping bow and my total fucking dumbfoundment.
This isn't the end of a magic trick at all. This is the punchline to a heartless joke.
Right. This should be really good for me.
Twenty-Seven
Landon
There’s a comforting familiarity of the library. Each book worn from use, the pages soft, spines creased. The book we have open now has vibrant pictures centered over the white pages.
Dee’s perfect skin tone competes with its paleness, her hands resting next to it, fingers interlocked tightly. She’s rigid in the cushioned seat she’s propped in. Each time I’ve tried to talk, she looks past me. Her green eyes glazed over.
Empty.
Or busy? I can never really tell if she is thinking about nothing or everything all at once.
I hate this.
I feel responsible for everything that’s happened to her. I was a part of it after all. I just want to do better. Probably should have done better for her in the first place.
I’m such a fucking idiot.
The past few months make me feel like I’ve become this person I was never meant to be and now… now I’m scrounging to find myself again.
I can’t help but wonder, if our lives were different, if I’d met her at the start of the school year, separate from Knox and Reed, would things between us be different?
It’s a worthless thing to consider. Because if I’d just been different when she fucking needed me while the whole damn school was eating her alive, everything would have been fine.
We would have been fine.
It’s too late for that. But right now, I can be here for her right now.
“Have you read anything from this chapter yet?” I’m pushing, only because I know the answer is no. She hasn’t put any work into it. Between her mother’s trial and the three very confusing days without her, schoolwork hasn’t been a priority.
Honestly, it probably shouldn’t be either. Clearly there are more important things that should be addressed than this tutoring. Not that I didn’t jump at the opportunity to redeem myself when I suggested to Miss Perry that a tutor might help. Me. I had to spell it out for the woman that I meant me.
With everything, I place no blame on Dee for this. I keep thinking how, if I was in her position, would I be focusing on schoolwork? Mr. Reyes is her… father, apparently. Her father who isn’t helping her mother in jail... The whole gist of that is still a little confusing to me. Perhaps a mystery that I don’t ever want to solve or look too hard at.
Dee has said little to no words since her appearance at the dinner table the other night and Knox, well, he’s like a lockbox when his father is around. A lockbox full of secrets, none of which are very pleasant to think about.
My stomach always feels sick when Mr. Reyes is home.
It’s like a knowing sensation. A fucking terrible knowing sensation.
