Tutor Me (13 page)

“Nice work again, Caldwell.” Mr. Ferguson was handing the quizzes back and from the sound of it, Callum had gotten an A. I felt myself blush, knowing what that meant. I didn’t dare look around at him but I felt his hot eyes on the back of my neck. Who knew Calc quizzes could be so sexy? As I waited for my own quiz, a shadow fell across my desk. Callum placed the quiz in front of me on the desk so I could see the ‘A’ on it in Mr. Ferguson’s scrawl. I looked down at the paper instead of risking a look at Callum, worried I would show too much – what? -anticipation?- in my eyes.

I nodded. “Sweet!”

“I’ll text you later,” he said quietly, his voice grave.

At his words I glanced up, meeting his eyes with what I hoped was a relaxed look that didn’t reveal my excitement. His gaze was intense.

“OK.” I said equally quietly, my attempt at a cool demeanor failing when I swallowed loudly. He smiled at that, picked up his quiz and was gone. 

On the previous Thursday, the night before the quiz, Callum had texted me.
Quiz bet?

I was facetiming with Tina at the time, who started squealing when I read her the text.

After consulting with her, I wrote back
Less than an A gets me an oil change

Callum texted back a moment later.
A= third base

I groaned. Tina looked concerned. “Don’t you want this? You knew where this was going.”

She was right, and I did really want this because I was so hot for this guy I couldn’t even see straight, but this situation seemed fucked up.

“I feel like the deeper we go with this game the bigger the slut I must seem.”

She snorted. “That’s ridiculous. To whom? You’ve only slept with one guy in your life and he was your serious boyfriend. You are by no definition a slut. Anyway, stop worrying about what other people think. Do what feels right.”

“That’s just it. When I’m with Callum doing these crazy things it all feels right but then I get away and I think what the hell am I doing? I’ve got this great guy begging to be my boyfriend and I’m stalling with him while I fool around with someone else who promises nothing. Not to mention that it’s not just Bryce on the line here. If Lacey and the others find out I’ll lose all those friends.”

“Look, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. If you text Callum and say take it down a notch, he’ll accept that.”

I thought about that for a moment. It was true, I had a choice. I felt better, more in control of my decision. I would own it.  So I texted Callum back.
ok

After the quizzes were returned, the rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. Mr. Ferguson had handed back the quizzes on Tuesday rather than the usual Monday, so I had cheerleading practice right after school.  I was on autopilot in practice, so much so that the coach barked at one point, “Jenny, where’s your head today? Focus please.”  Lacey glanced at me sharply but didn’t say anything.

After practice, as we walked from the gym to our cars, Lacey asked, “So what’s up? You seem very dreamy today. Fun date with Bryce last night?” Her eyes twinkled. She knew that Bryce and I had gone to the movies the night before.

“What? No.” When Lacey looked astonished at my rather vehement reply, I hurriedly corrected myself.  “I mean, the date was fine, terrific, but I wasn’t thinking about that. I’m just tired and kind of spacy is all.”

She looked unconvinced but didn’t push it. “OK well get some sleep.”

As I drove home my mind immediately went back to Callum and our bet. The other times he’d collected pretty quickly. As I was pulling into my driveway I got a text. It was from Callum. My heart started beating wildly.

I want to go for a drive. Pick you up at 8?

A drive? What did that mean? Third base in his car, in some parking lot? Visions of the night before with Bryce popped into my head. Oh well I could definitely handle this if it was a repeat of Bryce’s uninspired groping.

It was 5 o’clock. I had three hours to eat dinner, get my homework done and have a shower, but I had to facetime with Tina first to tell her the news. She was thrilled, told me it was going to be awesome.

I shrugged. “I’m not expecting anything major. He’s hot but three guys have been down my pants and so far it has been about as sexy as a trip to the Ob-Gyn.”

“But this is Callum we’re talking about here, Jenny. I know he’s going to rock your world.” Her parting words were, “Wear a skirt.”

I ate some left-over pasta, thankful for once that tonight my dad was out so I didn’t have to spend time cooking or chatting. I did homework till 7:15 and then gave myself 45 minutes to get ready. I normally didn’t take that long but getting really clean and looking good made me feel more in control of this bizarre situation. My goal was to be as clinical about the bet as possible. Whatever honesty we had showed each other last week about our mutual attraction was a distant memory.

As I was brushing my hair, Bryce texted.
What are you up to, beautiful?

I wrote back,
Homework
, the casual lie slipping off my fingers.

Bryce’s reply gave me a pang of guilt.
See you tomorrow. Sleep well.
What was I doing messing around pointlessly with Callum when I had Bryce? Last night Bryce had been hinting hard at wanting to get serious, and I couldn’t commit. What was my problem? 

I was still feeling guilty about Bryce when the doorbell rang. I had put on a soft white t-shirt and a floral pouf skirt that came to a couple inches above my knees. Most important, underneath I had on some white lace panties, bikini cut, that I’d only worn once. Leather flip flops completed the outfit, and I brought along a fuchsia cardigan in case it got cool. I kept makeup to a minimum, just a little pale gloss and my standard dark eyeliner. I wore my hair down. I looked like a very good girl, except for maybe the shortness of the skirt. It seemed slightly slutty to be driving to a parking lot and letting this guy feel me, and so I was trying to minimize that impression, at least in my own mind.

I opened the door, my pulse racing, and Callum stood there in a long sleeved black crew shirt with New Politics on it, and jeans, his hair messed up adorably. “Hi” he said, his head tilted slightly to the side, a smile evident at the corners of his mouth.

“Hi” I said in a small voice.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yes.” I had texted my dad already to say I was going out with a friend for a little while. He’d not replied and I knew he wouldn’t be concerned.

Callum opened the car door for me and I climbed in, loving the smell of the old leather seats. Once he was in his seat and we were pulling out, he glanced over, saying, “I thought we could take a drive out of town a ways.”

“Sounds good.” I was both wary and excited by this suggestion.

Callum had plugged his phone in so he could stream music through the car’s speakers. We sat silently, listening to the music, the windows down. The songs were on shuffle play, so it was an eclectic mix. I didn’t know a lot of the songs but did recognize Lamb of God and Kongos. There was a touch of coolness in the night air now. As we headed east out of the Phoenix sprawl, the lights grew dimmer until it was pitch black in front of us, the orange glow of the city visible in the side view mirror. Callum drove fast but with complete control. We didn’t talk but the silence was a comfortable one. The wind was strong in the car with the windows down, and my hair was getting whipped around my face.  I could smell the desert, the creosote and mesquite, and I realized there was nowhere else I wanted to be at that moment.

After 20 minutes or so Callum pulled off down a dirt road to the right. I hadn’t seen any signs but he seemed to know where he was. We drove along the road for a couple minutes, slowly because his car had low clearance. He finally stopped the car and killed the lights. It was dark all around us, but as my eyes adjusted, I saw that it was not entirely black as I expected. We sat there for a moment.

“You’re not going to murder me out here, are you?” I was joking but Callum responded seriously.

“If I was, it would be a little late to ask that question, wouldn’t it? In fact, I really hope you wouldn’t let some guy just drive you out into the middle of nowhere unless you knew him very very well.” He sounded stern.

“I don’t know you ‘very very well’, but I trust you,” I said, looking at him, his face in shadows.

He didn’t respond and I couldn’t see his eyes very well in the dark, but I felt his gaze.

He abruptly said, “Come out, I want to show you something.” I was opening the door when he came around and pulled it wider, giving me a hand to climb out of his low car. He kept his hand in mine as he led me around to the front of the car.

“Look up.” I did and drew in a breath. In Phoenix the city lights blocked out all but the brightest stars, but here the sky was like a dense carpet of them.

“This is stunning.”

“Isn’t it? I come out here once in a while to remind myself of how big the universe actually is.” We were standing side by side, the backs of our legs against the warm grill of the car, gazing upward.

“It makes me realize how small and unimportant I am in the scheme of things,” I said.

“Does that bother you?”

I thought about it for a moment. “No, it feels kind of comforting, as if my problems are really not worth getting that worked up about.”

“That’s how I feel too. Let the petty bullshit wash off us. But then I also think, in a universe this big, if I’m no more than an ant, if my life is so unimportant, I should just go after what I want because, why not? Not much is riding on it for anyone or anything but myself.”

“Are you talking about music?”

“Among other things.” My pulse quickened, and I glanced at him, but he kept his eyes on the stars, and so I returned my gaze skyward.

“Look, there’s a satellite over there.”

I followed where he was pointing and saw it too: it looked like a star, but it was moving steadily across the night sky.

“Would you ever want to go up there, in space?” he asked.

“No. It scares the crap out of me. I feel adventurous about going anywhere on our planet, but space seems so lonely to me. And I don’t want to meet any aliens!”

He turned toward me so that his side rested on the car and I turned to face him. In a split second the mood shifted from philosophical to sexually charged. I felt myself get wet knowing what was to come.

“Will you sit on the hood of the car?” Callum put his hand on it. “It’s warm, but not too hot.”

“Sure.” I was trying to sound casual.

“I’ll get a blanket to put on there.” He went around to the back of the car, and opened the trunk. He returned a moment later with a dark woolen blanket which he placed, folded up, on the hood. He moved to stand in front of me.

“Can I lift you up there?” He was gentle, tentative. I nodded, not trusting my voice at that moment. He put his hands on my waist and it took all my willpower not to throw my arms around his neck. He lifted me up and set me down carefully on the square of blanket on the hood, so that my feet were dangling over the grill, my flip flops falling off my feet. He let go of my waist but stayed leaning against the grill facing me, so that if I chose I could wrap my legs around him with minimal effort. When that thought popped into my head, I could feel myself get even wetter. Oh dear, this was going to be embarrassing. So much for acting clinical. I set my hands in my lap, waiting. Callum’s eyes were locked on mine, and in the moonlight they looked like dark pits.

“You’re not trying to re-enact the Whitesnake video, are you?” I asked suspiciously.

Callum laughed loud. “That video is smoking, but no, I didn’t think of that.” Then he became serious again. When he spoke his voice was soft and soothing. “Will you open your legs for me Jenny?” I swallowed and eased them open.

“Can I do this?” he asked as he put his hands on my legs, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on the skin of my inner thighs.

“Yes,” I said gravely.

He massaged my thighs with a firm warm touch, rubbing up and down, and when his hands moved upward to just inches from my panties, I tried not to groan. He seemed in no hurry but I was desperate for his touch. Everywhere his fingers went sent sparks to my core, which was now throbbing. Before I could stop myself I had spread my legs a little wider.

Callum’s eyebrow shot up. “Do you like what I’m doing?”

“I do,” I said, unable to smile. His hands were still on my thighs and I yearned for him to go higher. He kept running his fingers along my thighs.

“It’s OK if you want to go higher, you know,” I said, my voice strained.

He smirked. “Do you want me to, Jenny?”

“You won the bet, so it’s up to you.”

He persisted, “But you need to tell me you want me to, Jenny.” It was a command.

I couldn’t meet his eyes as I gave in and said quietly, “I want you to go higher, Callum.”

I leaned back, my hands bracing me against the hood. His fingers slipped up far under my skirt, finding my panties. I was biting my lower lip hard to stay calm. I knew he would discover how wet I was, but I was beyond caring. When he ran his fingers between my legs, feeling the sopping fabric, he let out a gasp. I felt my face flush but I risked a peek at him. He looked at me with wonder, not teasing.