Breaking the Wrong (5 page)

The Peer Tutoring Program downloads. When I glance over at Tosha, I give her a somber nod. “Unfortunately, yes. I knew I’d probably need help with math, but I didn’t think I would need it this soon.”

Math has always eaten me alive.

Every. Single. Time.

Only three days have passed and I know I have to sign up for help before I find myself failing. I type out all my info with hurried fingers. When I finish, I sit back in the computer chair and turn around slowly.

Tosha’s lost in her own world, humming along to a commercial and tapping her feet against the foot of my bed.

“I’m done,” I announce. “Wouldn’t it be great if I could apply my reading skills toward math? I would have a passing grade across the board.”

A look of concern crosses her face. “It’s really that bad?”

Tosha knows about my struggles with math. She’s the friend that defended me from any cruel names tossed my way. It really doesn’t matter what age you are. School is a killing field. There will always be that one person who will zone in on someone’s weakness and go straight for the kill.

Aniston was even more crazed than Tosha. He went to an all boys’ school, but if he’d heard the names I was called, he would have found a way to end the taunts. After tragedy slammed into our family, he became twice as protective. I think it was his way of moving on. Being protective of Eden and me was his way of making sure the past didn’t repeat itself.

Looking over at Tosha, I nod. “Yep. I’m doing good in every other course but this one.”

“What’s your easiest class?” she asks.

“Psych,” I gather all my hair and create a messy bun. “But there’s this girl in there, Haley. I talk to her a lot.”

Tosha sits up and frowns at me. “Haley who?”

I scrunch my lips and try to think of her last name. “Haley Roth?” At least, I think that’s what our professor said.

My answer must have been right and wrong at the same time. Tosha veers back and stares at me with her eyes in tiny slits. “I know Haley.”

“That doesn’t sound very positive,” I comment.

“It isn’t.” Tosha leans back against the wall. “She hates Severine.”

“I know, she told me that.”

“Did she tell you that she hates Severine only because she dated Macsen? Haley is in love with him ... the crazy kind.”

For some reason, I defend Haley. “She doesn’t seem that bad.”

“Haley may be okay with you now. But if you get involved with ‘her man’... you’ll get a live version of Single White Female.”

Maybe other girls would have to worry about Haley but I should be in the clear because I have no desire to date him ... or any Sloan, for that matter.

I wrinkle up my nose and shake my head. “She’s just infatuated with him ... it’s harmless.”

Tosha cocks her head to the side. “Well, duh. A blind kitten can see that she wants to lick Macsen like he’s a big bowl of ice cream.”

For the past few days, I’ve noticed every girl in class staring at him. Even the ones that mutter to each other that he’s an asshole. “I think everyone wants to do that,” I murmur. 

“Ah ha!” Tosha smiles and leans forward. “You’ve met Macsen.”

I nod. “I have a class with him.”

“And?” she asks.

“And what?” My heart speeds up nervously. Talking to Tosha about Macsen like nothing is wrong makes me feel sick. I smooth out my pants to keep my hands busy. “I have a class with him.”

“I’ve only spoken to him a few times,” Tosha confesses. “He’s really quiet. Reads a lot ... actually, he’s a lot like you.”

Tosha doesn’t know that, for me, that’s the biggest insult. I am nothing like Macsen Sloan. Nothing.

“That’s not true at all,” I tell her firmly. 

She ignores my tone of voice. “You should talk to him,” she encourages.

I shake my head quickly and frown. “I’m not going to do that.”

Not yet, at least. I want to give it time and wait to see if he remembers anything about me. If he really looks closely, he’ll see a resemblance. I’m not surprised that he didn’t recognize me from the coffee shop last May. Back then I wasn’t even a blip on his radar.

“Are you nervous to talk to him?” Tosha asks in a teasing voice.

“No—”

Quickly, she interrupts me. “Are you being all quiet and ‘Emilia’?”

“What other way would I be?”

Tosha shrugs her shoulders and hops off my bed, sliding on her flip-flops. “It’s hard to tell with you, Emilia.”

With Tosha off the bed, I scramble out of the chair and dive onto my stiff mattress. The sad part is that I’m actually getting used to the lumpy feeling. 

I fluff my pillow and grin widely at Tosha. “I’m quiet. People can’t handle quiet people?”

“There’s nothing wrong with quiet,” Tosha points out. “It’s when you stare at someone like you know everything about them. That’s what no one can handle.”

Weakly, I defend my habit. “Some people are just easy to read.”

“You’re going to find someone that reads you right back,” she warns. It’s meant to be a joke, but my blood freezes. It’s a scary thought, thinking someone could possibly see my pain. Tosha gives me another pointed look and smiles. “And when that happens, I’m going to be there with a post-it in my hands. It’s going to say, ‘Told ya so!’ and I’m going to slap it on your forehead.”

My expression is dull, but I’m panicking inside. “Thank you for your support,” I say dryly.

Tosha heaves a sigh and pats me on my knee. “Whatever you’re after ... just take it, Emilia.” She walks over to my desk and unzips my makeup bag. “You can be fierce when you want to be.”

“You think so?”

Cocking her hip to the side, she points my lip liner at me. “I know so. You’re like broken glass.”

  “Broken glass?” I give her a strange look.

  “You’re intense. It’s unexpected and makes everyone jump.”

  “I hope I cut a few people,” I reply dryly. 

Pulling out my compact she looks at her face and nods at her reflection. “You will.” Tosha slams the compact shut and looks over at the right side of the room. “Hey, where is Severine?”

We’ve been talking for almost two hours. How is Tosha just now noticing that Severine isn’t here? 

“Probably with Thayer. She’s never here.”

“What do you think of her?” she asks.

I shrug and stare at the ceiling. “She’s okay. Reminds me of a Bond girl.”

A short burst of laughter escapes Tosha. “What?”

Turning over, I look at my friend. “You know, she’s friendly in person but actually cunning.”

“Oh really? And you’re completely pure and innocent?” Tosha jokes.

  There are major differences between Severine and me. She’s beautiful with her green eyes, dark hair, and plump lips. But she knows she’s gorgeous and is smart enough to use that to her advantage. I can’t use my looks as a weapon. But that’s where my people-watching skills come in handy. That’s my weapon and it never fails me.

When Severine and I are in the same room, we tiptoe around each other. The conversation always remains light. It’s very clear that neither one of us really trusts the other. 

“Well, I know she’ll come around,” Tosha states confidently. “Probably just getting a feel for you.”

“We’ll see.” I lift my head up from my pillow. “Where are you going?”

“Target.” Slowly, Tosha twirls and looks at me. “How do I look?”

I take in her blue, short shorts and yellow blouse. “For Target, you look great.”

“The last time I went, I wore a khaki skirt and a red polo. I had someone come up to me and ask what aisle the cold sore cream was in. I’m just making sure I don’t have the Target employee vibe this time.”

My smile spreads so wide my cheeks hurt. “You are Target free,” I promise.

“Good!” she shouts and walks out the door.

As I think over Tosha’s words, my smile fades.

‘You’re going to find someone that reads you right back.’.

It feels like a warning to me … that someday I might meet my match.

Seconds later, my phone rings. I grab it and read Tosha’s text: 
Be broken glass
.

Tosha is trying to be encouraging. But all I can see in her words is that I have to break in order to succeed.

EMILIA

I make it to The Study right on time, proud of myself for finding the damn building. It’s on the opposite side of my dorms. I get to the front counter and ask to be pointed in the right direction.

“Private tutoring is located at the Education Library, dear,” the nasally old lady behind the front counter says. She picks up a campus map and points to a building in the opposite direction, right by my dorm.   

By the time I reach the right building, I’m more than late. I’m the awkward late—the kind where the minute anyone walks into the room, everybody lifts their heads up and stares at the person who can’t tell time.

I run straight to the information counter. A short girl with a pixie cut and funky glasses smiles happily at me. “May I help you?”

  “I’m here for private tutoring,” I say out of breath, cheeks flushed.

  “Oh.” Pixie Girl frowns and points at the shut doors clear across the room. “That started about twenty minutes ago.”

  “I know, I went to the wrong place the first time.”

  Pixie gives me a look that says,
‘Okay, Dumbass.’

 
Honestly, I have no idea why I’m wasting time explaining anything to the pixie. I stride across the room, toward the oak doors with determination and confidence.

  When I open the doors, no one looks up—everyone is too busy looking at their laptops or reading the textbooks in front of them. I let out a sigh of relief and scan the faces, trying to find the person I need to check in with.

  No one stands out to me. I’m close to sliding out the doors and running back to Pixie Girl, when I catch Melissa Woods talking quietly.

  Meeting Melissa last May was probably the only positive thing about my visit. My nerves were out to play that day and she was instantly friendly. Melissa stuck out as a person with such a kind heart.

Everything starts to look a bit better as I tap her on the shoulder because there is someone here that I kinda, sorta know. 

  When Melissa turns around, it’s clear she kinda, sorta does not remember me. I smile weakly and say, “Hey.”

  It takes her a few seconds before her eyes widen and she smiles happily. “Oh ... oh! Hey, how are you?”

  I lean a hip against the table. “It’s the end of the first week of classes and I’m here for tutoring, so ... not too good.”

  Quickly, Melissa stands up and smiles—actually, I don’t think she has stopped smiling since we started talking. Genuinely happy people are hard to come by.

She pats me on the shoulder. “Are you kidding? Everyone gets a little confused. It’s no big deal. Give me your paperwork and I’ll help you out.”

“You’re the person I check in with?”

She grins at me. “I’m that and
the person that assigns you to a tutor.”

I smile widely as I
search for my paperwork. Maybe she’ll be my tutor…

  Melissa scans my info, while I watch with an antsy feeling. She looks up at me and shakes her head.

That’s always a bad thing.

  She hands over my paperwork. “I can’t help you with math, but I have a few people that will be perfect.”

  I grab it quickly and plead with her because I’m comfortable with her. “Sure you can,” I say confidently. “I bet you know way more than I ever will on the subject.”

The wheels in her head are working and I know she wants to say yes. Melissa is too kind to say no. She glances back at the student sitting at the table and looks at me with regret. “I can’t. I already have too much on my plate. Besides, there are way more qualified tutors to help you.”

  I keep my head down and stare down at my paperwork and say, “Oh yeah? Who?”

  “I can help.”

  My head snaps up instantly. Macsen. His green eyes are guarded, as he slowly looks me up and down.

  He holds out his hand and points at my paper. I step back and clutch it to my chest. My head feels shoved under water and I can’t breathe. This is
not
part of my plan.

“Can I take a look?” Macsen asks slowly.

A lot of things are happening inside me: fear, sadness, and anger. I’ve been waiting for him to talk to me, but not here, not where all my vulnerabilities are exposed for him to see. 

  He steps closer and snatches the paper from my hands. I flatten my lips together to keep anything from coming out. I watch his eyes scan the paper and my entire body is shaking. I stop looking at his face and stare at his white polo shirt. It showcases his muscles and makes them even more defined.

It’s a brief thought, but I wonder if this is what my sister saw.

He lifts his head and I’m snapped out of my thoughts. I get a whiff of his scent. He smells like the outdoors mixed with soap. Macsen nods and takes a step back. His clean scent follows. “Yeah, I can help you.”