Tutor Me (19 page)

Lacey smiled warmly. “That makes me happy, Jenny. I just know the four of us will be amazing together and Bryce is so ready to settle down with you. He is only running around because he’s not sure how committed you are. He won’t look at another girl once you give yourself to him.”

I knew the truth was far less romantic, that Bryce would sooner or later get bored with me and want some other tail, but he’d probably make an effort for a little while, until he was sated.

Lacey sent snapchats of our painted toes to Kai and Bryce, asking them to guess whose feet were whose. I’d selected a midnight blue for my toes and pale pink for my fingernails. Lacey used the same polishes, but reversed it. The boys sent a selfie back of themselves on the bus, and labeled correctly whose feet were whose. Then they took a shot of their hands and asked us to guess whose was whose. Lacey and I peered at the picture on her phone.

Lacey knew right away. “This one is definitely Kai’s. He’s got that little freckle on his index finger. Bryce’s nails are so neatly trimmed!” Lacey was right, this foursome could be good.

I didn’t want to face going home to an empty house and thinking about Callum so when we left the salon I asked Lacey if she’d like to get an eegee at Blimpies, which was nearby. As Lacey’s home life was even more emotionless than mine, I knew she felt no need to hurry home. We ordered kid’s size strawberry eegees and looked up possible prom dresses on Lacey’s iPad.

When I finally drove home, a surprise awaited me: Callum’s car was parked in the driveway, next to my dad’s.
What the hell??

I sat in my car for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts. I turned on my phone to see what I was dealing with. Sure enough, the oldest texts were a string from Callum (typical peremptory statements:
we must talk
;
call me
;
where are you
). There were also a couple from Lacey, one x-rated one from Bryce, and then my dad had texted to say he would be home for dinner tonight. The last message was from Callum:
Waiting at your house. Your dad’s cool.

If the goal was to yank my chain, he was achieving it. I stomped up the steps and flung open the front door, to be greeted by a tranquil scene of my dad and Callum sitting side by side on the couch, guitars in hand. They both looked up when I walked in, my dad briefly, Callum a bit longer.

“What’s going on?” I was seething. Callum’s expression was smug.

My dad answered me, distracted, his eyes on his guitar. “Jenny. Glad you’re home. Your friend Callum here is quite a guitar player. Giving me some good tips on this rather difficult piece. I bought ingredients for paella, would you mind making it? Oh and set the table for three. Callum is joining us.”

Callum looked at me, his eyes gleaming smugly. Arrogant prick. I stuck my tongue out at him, and he chuckled silently.

My dad was trying to get Callum’s attention again. “Uh Callum, I can’t work out the fingerwork here. I know you said to ease the pressure but…”

But I wasn’t done. “Callum, what are you doing here? We had arranged to meet at Starbucks.”

Callum shrugged, an innocent look on his face. “Starbucks isn’t a good place for studying.”

My dad nodded, “Callum is right, Jenny.”

Callum then delivered the final zinger. “I tried to call you but your phone is still not working. So when I couldn’t reach you by phone I thought the best thing to do was just come on over.”

My dad again nodded. “You did the right thing.”

“Thank you, sir.” Oh my God I was going to puke on this love fest.

“Well don’t feel you have to stay for dinner.” I snapped. My dad looked shocked, but Callum responded as if he was oblivious to my rudeness.

“Oh but I’d like to, thank you. Let me know if I can be of help.” He gave me his sweetest most innocent smile but I wasn’t buying it.

“I can handle it, thanks.” I strode to the kitchen, tied on an apron, and started on dinner, banging a few pots and pans around. Luckily I could make paella with my eyes closed. I chopped the garlic and minced the onion, and sautéed it in the oil before adding the rice. When I had added the heated broth and put the pan in the oven with the sausage on it, I set about preparing a salad and a vinaigrette dressing. I set the dining table, and returned to check on the paella rice and add some of the seafood. I heard my dad and Callum talking and playing, catching snippets of their conversation.

To my dad’s question of which classical guitarists he liked, Callum responded, “I love the old guard, like Segovia of course. Bream is fantastic. Among the new generation the Assads are really interesting.”  I could hear the two guitars playing the same piece together, one tentative, one assured, and was struck by just how talented Callum was. Talent that didn’t come out in most rock songs. I’d already observed how well he played keyboard, but now, on the guitar, he was spectacular. This was a side to him I hadn’t seen. I almost forgot I was mad and hurt when I listened to his music and heard him talking with my dad.

After about 45 minutes, dinner was ready. I came out to the living room, still wearing the apron, and invited them to the table. My anger had subsided and now I was left feeling sad, remembering that this mesmerizing boy was just not that into me. He was simply redoubling his efforts to win me over and mess with Bryce. But I wouldn’t let him see how this realization affected me. They put their guitars down and Callum headed down the hall to wash his hands. My dad came into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of red wine. “Do you want some, sweetheart?” My dad had a European attitude toward wine drinking.

“No thanks, I’ve got homework to do after this.”

“Why were you so late coming home?” By posing that question I knew my dad was merely curious- he never adopted a standard parental role with me.

Callum reappeared as I was answering, watching me. “I was getting a mani-pedi with Lacey.” My dad looked confused.

“Ian, hello, a mani-pedi is short for manicure and pedicure.” I held out my hands and one foot. Both males peered down somewhat comically.

“You like?” I couldn’t help asking, looking at my dad but really speaking to Callum.

“Your hands and feet were already pretty adorable.” Callum said this, and I glanced up at him, seeing a yearning in his eyes that made me feel good briefly. But I looked away, not acknowledging his compliment. Sweet talking wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

If my dad caught Callum’s statement he chose to ignore it. He instead babbled on sagely about bodily decoration as evolutionary behavior and its possible origins in premodern hominins. We sat at the table, my dad at the head and Callum and I on either side of him, across from each other. The paella sat on a trivet between us, steam rising.

My dad dominated the conversation during dinner, as he and Callum continued to chat about classical guitar and music more generally, and about baseball, another of my dad’s passions. I was mostly quiet, eating while they talked, finding that I was quite hungry after skipping lunch. Callum was very complimentary about the food, and a few times tried to bring me into the conversation, but I shut down all of his attempts. I tried to stare back stonily but I knew my look was more wary than anything else. My anger had now faded but I had enough instinct for self-preservation that I worked to keep him at an emotional distance, and not let him charm his way back into my good graces.

After dinner my dad sat at the table and chatted while Callum and I cleaned up. I was for once thankful my dad was there because I was dreading the inevitable private conversation with Callum. I felt tired and hurt, nothing I wanted to explain to Callum. But the time eventually came when the kitchen was clean and my dad was getting up to go to his study, a detached room over the garage.

“See you later kids,” he said as he drifted away, his mind already on some scholarly point almost certainly.

After he had left I couldn’t make eye contact with Callum and we stood there awkwardly, the air full of tension. “Can we talk in your room?” Callum asked tentatively.

I nodded without looking at him, heading down the hall knowing he would follow. Once there, Callum prowled around my room, taking in the poster of the periodic table, my plastic DNA model, stacks of NME magazines and shelves full of books. Nope, my room hadn’t undergone any changes following my social transformation. After a moment, Callum flopped down on my bed, looking annoyingly cute on the brightly colored geometric duvet cover.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” I said sarcastically.

“Oh I feel very comfortable.” Callum’s mood had shifted, and he was grinning mischievously.

“I have homework to do, so, can you say what you want to say, please, and then go?” I stood with my hands folded across my chest, defensively.

“Well, I’m sorry you overheard that conversation with Connor, and I forgive you for your disgusting display at lunch.”

OK my anger was back. “Where to begin responding to that? First of all, I don’t want you to apologize for my overhearing what you said, I want you to apologize for saying it in the first place! And don’t you dare bring up my behavior at lunch! What I do with Bryce is my business, not yours. You’re the one who talked trash about me to your friend.” I was livid, standing before him, my hands clenched now into fists at my sides.

“When you suck face publicly that becomes everyone’s business.”

“What do you care? You told Connor it was all about the challenge, nothing else, so you must have been getting a bit bored after yesterday morning, when the challenge was getting easier.”

“You know I was just saying all that to cover up our bets.”

I humphed but his story seemed to elide with Ben’s take.

“OK I’m going to ask you straight: it’s not true, what you said?”

He paused for a moment, watching me. “It’s not entirely untrue. I do want you. I am trying to sleep with you. And I do take some pleasure in fucking with Bryce, but that part is just an added bonus to all this, not a motivation, I assure you.”

I hugged my arms around me, as if to protect myself. “You were so cold when talking about me to Connor. I felt demeaned, like you’ve been using me. I didn’t like it. It made me feel dirty, as if everything we did together was to ridicule me.”

He sat up straight on the bed. “Listen. Those things we’ve done, that I’ve done to you… I was not demeaning you.” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “How can I explain this… when I was doing those things I was worshipping you, trying to make you feel something spectacular.”

Right then I believed him, and knew he wasn’t just feeding me a line. I smiled wanly. “OK I forgive you.”

Callum looked relieved, but then his eyes narrowed. “We’re not done yet. You owe me an apology for lunchtime.”

“Actually, I don’t. Bryce and I just got carried away. It had nothing to do with you.”

“Bullshit. I saw you initiate it and I know you were trying to hurt me. I’ve never done that purposefully to you.”

“Yes you did, when you went off with that Melanie chick at the party the other weekend.”

Callum threw up his hands. “That’s different and you know it. I explained then what I was doing.”

Callum was not going to let me off the hook, so I gave in. “Fine, you’re right. I was hurt and I wanted to piss you off, break through your coldness. I’m sorry.”

“For the record, I never feel cold toward you.”

I was curious. “So have you told anyone about our bets?”

Callum looked sheepish. “The guys in the band know.”

I protested, “Oh geez Callum, I’m going to be so embarrassed around them now!”

“Don’t be. They get it and they really like you. How about you? Have you told anyone? Tina?”

“Yup.”

“What does she think of these bets?”

I flushed. “She thinks they’re hot.” Callum looked smug.

“Anyone else?”

“Ben.”

“Shit, is he going to kick my ass for messing with his little sister?”

“No, I called him this afternoon and he actually was defending you, saying you had to say what you did to Connor.”

“There you go, another guy gets it. But you were still pissed at me this evening, even after hearing the guy’s point of view?”

I was pacing around the room. “I had to hear it from you. Ben had a theory, that’s all. Look, I’m exhausted and I still have homework to do, so you need to go.”

“Are we good now?” He had stood up and was tilting his head to the side in this adorable way.

“We’re good.”

At our tutoring session the following Wednesday Callum was friendly but a little wary, and had even managed to remember his textbook for the first time. This meant we could sit further apart while working, disappointingly. We had a cumulative midterm on Friday so we did have a lot to work on, but I was still bummed. At one point I’d accidentally brushed his arm with my fingers while trying to explain something in the book and he’d carefully moved his arm back. He didn’t even mention a bet. I followed his lead and played it cool with him during our session, but as soon as I got home I called Tina in tears.

“Why was he so, I don’t know,
polite
today? Do you think he’s lost interest? Any advice for the lovelorn?” I said half laughing, half crying.

On the computer screen I saw her roll her eyes. “No, he has not lost interest, dummy. He is pulling back because you are technically unavailable and he doesn’t want to get hurt. Dump Bryce and Callum will be all over you.” After Callum’s handling of the fight she was on Team Callum.

“I don’t know if you’re right. Everything seems so tense between us. Sometimes he glares at me like he hates me or something.”

Tina gave me a look. “He does not hate you, he is just wound so tight around you he’s about to explode. I saw you guys in action at that party, remember? You could cut the sexual tension with a knife. Everything boils down to that.”

“But what if I break up with Bryce, and then Callum doesn’t make a move? I’m still not convinced that I’m not just a challenge for him.”

“No risk, no reward: you know this. What about the next bet?”

“The midterm is this Friday and he hasn’t even mentioned a bet. I mean, we talked about it Saturday morning but then we kind of jumped the gun on it, so what now?”

“Text Callum to get that damned bet lined up. I’m staying right here to hear his response.” My nosy fairy godmother.

I pulled out my phone, feeling a tightening in my chest at the thought of writing to him. What a nutcase I had become over this guy! I couldn’t even begin to think of what to write. “I’m paralyzed here Tina. A little help?”

Tina thought for a moment and said “How about, ‘Bet for the midterm? I still want a guitar lesson.’”

“OK,” I said, typing nervously. “I will just die if he writes back something like he wants me to bake him cookies now.” 

Tina snorted. “No risk no”—

I cut her off. “I know I know, I got it the first time.” I hit send.

We sat there in silence for a few minutes, me staring into space, Tina flipping through Instagram on her phone. I was too anxious to make small talk. Finally I said to her, “Look, you can’t wait all night. Maybe he won’t even write back. Ever.” I was feeling very sorry for myself.

Tina was just telling me to snap out of it when my phone rang. Callum’s name popped up.

“It’s Callum!”

Tina did her trademark bounce. “Answer answer!” she practically screamed.

“I’m turning you off.” Her mouth turned down and she got her puppy dog eyes.

I relented. “OK you can stay on but I am not putting him on speaker phone, and you have to be absolutely silent, got it?”

She bounced again and made the gesture of zipping up her lips with her hand.

I answered the call unsteadily. “Hey” was all I could manage by way of a greeting.

“Hi.” There was a pause.

Unable to wait it out, I blurted out “So did you get my text?” On the screen, Tina made an L with her fingers.

“Yeh. That’s why I’m calling.” Another long pause. Again I knew I should remain silent but I simply could not.

“Do you still even want to place a bet?”  Tina threw up her hands in exasperation. I ignored her.

Callum chuckled but it was humorless. “I do, but I’m torn over what to pick as my prize.” I waited, my body completely tense.

He continued. “So I wanted to run a couple options by you. One is, that you cook me another paella dinner sometime.” I could feel the blood drain from my face. In another situation, a dinner would be a sweet idea but we were way past this and I would take it as a rejection, albeit a gentle one. Meanwhile, Tina was holding up a piece of paper that said ‘What’s going on?’.  I ignored her.

I gave a neutral “uh huh” sound, and Callum resumed.

“The other option has the virtue of continuity with our previous bets.” There was a long pause. My heart was in my mouth. Was he going to ask for a blow job maybe, or??—

Then Callum said it: “That would be a home run.”

I was so silent that Callum asked, “Jenny are you still there?”

“I’m here. Just listening.”

“Well, what do you think?”

Oh no I wasn’t going to be pushed out on a limb like this. “I’m fine with either.” I said coolly, quite proud of myself for keeping it together so far.

But Callum persisted. “But which do you prefer?”

“It’s your bet. So the question is which do
you
prefer?” Why was he putting me on the spot like this?

There was a silence that seemed long. I had stopped breathing. Finally he spoke again. “Jenny, fuck, you know which one.”

“Do I?”

He ignored that. “You need to say it, say you want that, or it can’t happen.”

Defeated, I let my guard down. “Fine. Home run. I pick home run.” I practically shouted out the last two words, and then I hung up. Tina, who had been trying to follow the one-sided conversation with some frustration, mouthed, “Oh. My. God.”

I shook my head at her, but she blew me off.

“Are you freaking kidding me? This shit is so hot I can’t believe it!!”

I was doubtful. “It sounds kind of sordid, though, doesn’t it? I mean, we are going to have sex on a bet.”

“It would be yucky,” she admitted, “but because it’s you two, and you’re unable to express your feelings like normal people, it’s just incredibly sweet.” I rolled my eyes at her.

I barely saw Callum in the days following, but I sure saw Bryce, a lot of him. He was waiting for me after class, carrying my books, buying me lunch at the cafeteria. It was cute but kind of intense too, in a clingy way. And Bryce didn’t do clingy well. On Thursday he had taken me out for dinner. Afterward we climbed in the back of his SUV and I gave him a perfunctory blow job before saying I had to get home early to study for the midterm.

Bryce whined like a baby. “We have got to finish what we started at that party. I’m dying here.”

“Bryce I just blew you, life isn’t that bad. Look, my period started today, so nothing is happening tonight anyway.”

At the cafeteria the next day Bryce was especially affectionate, sneaking up behind me as I stood in line for food and kissing me on the neck. I had been thinking about Callum and those kisses on my neck felt good, like a massage. I had this odd lapse where I thought for a moment it was Callum kissing me. I closed my eyes and smiled in spite of myself, before registering with disappointment that it was Bryce doing the kissing. I looked around guiltily and saw Callum a few feet away. His face was pale and his eyes were furious. As I watched him, he deliberately turned his back on me and went to his usual table. I pulled away from Bryce, the nice sensations of the kiss evaporated. This situation was crazy, I felt guilty for being with Bryce in front of Callum, and guilty for being with Callum behind Bryce’s back. I stole glances at Callum a few times during lunch but he never looked in my direction and seemed to be chatting casually to his friends. He had obviously recovered, but I still felt a sense of foreboding, as if I’d screwed something up with him.

Callum arrived in Calc that afternoon as Ferguson was handing out the exams so he moved swiftly to his seat without a glance at me or hand on my desk. I focused on the exam which was quite challenging. When I was finally done, just as class was ending, Callum was already gone.

Tuesday Ferguson was handing back the midterms. I couldn’t believe the moment had finally come. The weekend had seemed to drag on forever. We’d had an away game on Friday night, followed by a party. On Saturday I decided to stay in and work on an English paper rather than go to yet another party. The truth was I was getting a little bored of standing around drinking beer out of plastic cups, gossiping, and fending off Bryce’s advances. My period was all that was holding him off at this point. I had to cover for one of the other swim instructors on Sunday which meant two sessions back to back, and I was thankful for the extra work. I’d hoped Ferguson would have the exams graded by Monday but because they were longer than usual he’d said they’d be ready Tuesday. 

Now as Ferguson moved around the room, my heart was pounding, my palms sweaty. I wanted to look back at Callum but felt too shy. Callum had slipped in after class started, giving my desk one rap with his knuckles as he walked past. I looked up but he was past me before I could make eye contact. I twitched and knocked my binder on the floor.

As I leaned over my desk to pick it up, Drew whispered, “Geez you seem so nervous. You always get an A, you gotta chill out.”

I flicked him a look and tried to get my agitation under control. “I’m actually nervous about Callum’s exam as much as mine.”

Drew looked surprised. “You guys are pretty intense. You reamed him out the other day over the notes, now you’re all strung out about his grade.”

Luckily Ferguson handed back Drew’s exam then so I didn’t have to be under the scrutiny of the classroom’s resident stoner couples therapist.

I was still waiting for my exam when Ferguson gave Callum his without a word. I looked behind me but Callum was looking down, collecting his things. Frustrated, I turned back in my seat to face forward. The suspense was killing me, but only for a moment. Callum was soon standing next to my desk, and without a word he placed his exam on it, the grade visible on the top. A-.

I slumped, stunned. I felt almost numb, which was good because it meant I couldn’t cry. But then it hit me that not everything was all about me and our bet, and I was being selfish. This was about Callum, and from almost failing last year he had an A- on the midterm, which was an excellent grade. So I steeled myself and nodded, looking up at him to smile and say “Nice job”. It was a brittle smile but it was the best I could manage. He just gave a brief nod and headed out.

I got my exam back and walked out of the class feeling utterly dejected. Instead of heading straight back to my locker, where I knew my friends would be expecting me, I slipped down a quiet side hallway and, leaning against the wall, slid to the ground to think for a moment. I hadn’t realized until I saw Callum’s grade quite how much I had counted on those bets, how in my mind I had been assuming that his winning them was inevitable. The bets had allowed me to do all these things without having to risk my feelings. I acted as if it was a dangerous game but in some ways it had been very safe. But I wanted Callum too much to act passive anymore. I remembered the time we’d fooled around after the oil change and realized I could do this again. Before I had time to change my mind I sent Callum a text.

A-, A: no difference really.

My fingers tingled and my heart was pounding. There it was: I was truly telling Callum I wanted him, bet or no bet. I was proud of myself for finally owning up to my feelings.

I was still sitting on the floor of the hall, waiting for a response from Callum, when Mr. Ferguson came by.

“Oh hi Jenny,” he said distractedly. “Nice job on that exam.”

I politely said, “Thank you”, expecting him to keep walking. But he paused.

“And you’re clearly doing a great job tutoring Callum. He’s on his way to an A in the class himself.”

I shrugged. “He is pretty easy to tutor now that he’s making an effort.”

Mr. Ferguson nodded. “I can tell. That is what made this exam a bit disappointing.”

I raised my eyebrows. “An A- is a great grade.”

“Oh sure,” Ferguson agreed, “But it was so odd. Callum’s exam was perfect, but on the last question, which as you know is always an easy one on my tests, he simply skipped it entirely and drew a smiley face. That’s what brought his grade down to an A-.”

I turned white as I listened to this. Ferguson must have noticed because he watched me closely as he continued. “It was like he purposefully sabotaged his own grade. Any idea why he might do that?”

I shook my head no, but my stricken eyes must have made it obvious that I did have some idea.

“Well I must get to a faculty meeting,” Ferguson said, moving away.

I just stared at my feet. So Callum had intentionally lost the bet, rather than sleep with me. I felt as if I’d been kicked in the stomach, the rejection hurt so much. I sat for a moment, rocking back and forth, and thought I might throw up. I scurried to the girls’ bathroom further down the hall. It was empty inside, thankfully, and I didn’t even shut the door of the stall as I dry-heaved over a toilet. Nothing came up and I didn’t feel any better. Splashing water on my face with trembling hands, my hurt started to be subsumed by another emotion: fury. How dare he force me to agree to the bet, then reject me? What kind of game was he playing? Had this been his plan all along?

Then I remembered, mortified, the text I had sent him. Which he had yet to reply to.
Oh hell no
. The ball was so not in his court anymore. I pulled out my phone and shot off another text to him. My fingers were trembling so much it took me three tries to get it right.