The Truth About You & Me (10 page)

So I held them out and stared at you with a flat gaze, a gaze empty of the emotion I felt for you, steeling myself. Your eyes were soft and maybe a little regretful, but you said nothing as you took the tests and turned away.

And then I sat there, scribbling my name on the top of the page, still angry and hurt that you'd purposely embarrass me in front of the whole class.

The first question was the first thing you'd just reviewed with us, so I felt a smidgen of relief as I filled in the bubble for C, and a little more relief as I read the second question.

But that was all the relief I got. I was only marginally confident in my third answer, and by the fourth, I was lost.

I hadn't studied at all, Bennett, and as I looked at one question after another, I realized that I'd hardly even paid attention to what you'd taught over the past few weeks. And there was nothing I could do. I was smart, but we'd covered a lot of ground, and I'd be lying if I didn't say that I was often distracted by watching you, your lips, your hair, your hands. Sometimes half of what you said didn't even register, because I was too busy daydreaming about you.

I sunk further into despair as I flipped to the second page of questions, glimpsing plenty of terms I knew, terms I remembered from class last week and from high school Biology, but the things I needed to know, the questions you posed, went over my head.

In all my life I'd never taken a test like this, one I couldn't breeze through, and it was miserable. Was this what it was like for students who weren't naturally smart? Who struggled to understand the basics while I soared right on past them, aced the AP courses, and enrolled in college two years before they'd ever have the chance?

I read the questions over and over as the students around me slowly got up, delivered their tests, and left.

I knew, statistically, that C was the best answer, so I used that every time I guessed.

And I guessed a lot.

By the time I looked up, I was startled to realize I was one of two students left, and the other was already handing you her test and slinking out of the room, looking about as happy as I felt.

I pushed my binder into my backpack and zipped it up, emotions swirling in my gut like it was a big blender. I slung my pack over my shoulder and squeezed through the gap between my desk and the next one, my flats quiet on the tiled floors, and then I was standing in front of you.

You sat back in your chair and looked at me, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as if you were searching for the words.

“Why?” I asked.

You blew out a long breath. “Sorry. I just … got nervous and overreacted.”

“Nervous about what? I was the one who was put on the spot like that,” I said, holding on to my frayed nerves.

“I don't know. I'm worried people will realize what we're doing, so I was trying to treat you like anyone else … ” Your voice trailed off and you looked so genuinely worried, with the space between your brows creased, that I believed you. “And then I went totally overboard.”

“That was completely embarrassing,” I say.

“I know. Like I said, I'm sorry.”

I wanted to stay angry, but it was slipping away. “We're not even doing anything, anyway. We've just talked. And hiked.”

“We haven't done anything
yet
,” you said, and it wasn't meant to be flirty or seductive, just an honest truth. You stood up and started to walk toward me, and then in a blink you'd stopped, gone back to your seat, and sat down. And I realized you had the same instincts as I did, the same magnetic pull, and then I felt stupid for worrying about the woman in the pencil skirt. You wanted me, not her. “I promise you it won't happen again,” you said. “Okay?”

I nodded. “Deal.”

You pursed your lips for a long moment, and I stood there waiting, unsure of where we went from here, where we were supposed to take this next. We couldn't kiss, we'd agreed on that, but couldn't we be something else? Something in an area just gray enough that we could ignore the things that pushed us apart and allow ourselves to be pulled together?

“Can we hang out again?”

I'd wanted to hear those words so much that for a second I thought I'd been the one to say them aloud, but it wasn't me, it was you, and you were waiting for an answer.

My lips curled into a smile before I could stop them and I nodded, my streaked hair sliding over my shoulder. I reached up and twisted a strand around my finger as you spoke.

“We don't have to hike or anything. I live on Green Valley Road … maybe you could come over and we could go down to the river?”

It was hard for me not to jump up and down or clap my hands or …
something
to show how excited the idea made me.
Your house.
You wanted to show me the real you, the one outside of the college.

“Yeah, that would be great,” I said, letting go of my hair. “When are you thinking?”

“Maybe on Friday afternoon? I just have office hours in the morning and then I'm free … if you are.”

I was supposed to help my dad pump up a bajillion new basketballs, something he loathed for some reason, but I would come up with some fake excuse to be with you instead. Dad could get one of his derelict students to help him, and in doing so feel that he was saving the kid. Like he was some Disney movie teacher, saving the day, and the kid goes on to become a doctor instead of a gang member.

Not that we even had gangs in Enumclaw, but that was how my dad saw his job—it was the only way he could find bigger meaning in a career that he thought was beneath him.

“Yeah, that would be great.” I beamed at you and you smiled back.

“Good.” You pulled out one of your cards and scribbled down your address, then slid it across the desk. “Don't let anyone see that, okay? It's gotta be … ”

“A secret,” I finished.

“Yeah.” Your nose crinkled up. “Wish that didn't sound so … ”

“Dirty?” I asked, and then laughed. “I know it's not like that. It would just get … complicated if we didn't keep things quiet. I get it.”

“Good. Because earlier, when Zoey was here … ”

The pencil skirt woman. “Oh, no,” I said. “I mean, I get that you have colleagues or whatever … ”

“Right. She's a Chemistry professor. We share the lab and have to work out scheduling conflicts and stuff.”

“Uh-huh. I get it.”

“Good. I didn't want you to think … ”

I didn't supply a fill-in answer that time, because I didn't know what you wanted to say, but I wished you'd finished that sentence. Did you already see how much I'd fallen for you, and you needed me to know that you were saving yourself for me, not dating anyone else? Were you telling me to wait for us, that you wanted things to be exclusive?

You didn't finish the sentence, though, so I'll never know what you meant. Eventually I just said, “No, it's fine, I get it.”

“Cool. So, see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you at the lab.” I stepped away, feeling suddenly … lighter, more sure of us, of what we were becoming.

“Looking forward to it,” you said. And by the tone of your voice, I knew you meant it.

On Thursday, just
a day away from our upcoming time alone together—a day I couldn't stop thinking about—Katie plunked down next to me in class with a sad-puppy face. “So, before we get those tests back, I was thinking I needed to put some pre-emptive good-test karma out there. We need to plan some study sessions because, holy hell, I think I'm going to get a big ol' F.”

I sighed as I flipped open my Biology book. “Yeah, me too. I guessed on two-thirds of it. I hadn't even read the last chapter and I totally forgot that we even had a test, so I didn't study.”

Katie leaned over like she wanted to share a secret or juicy gossip. She lowered her voice and said, “Yeah, I wondered, because you're way smarter than me and I knew that answer, and he totally called you out. What was that even about?”

My heart tumbled all over itself and my smile turned a little forced. Had she picked up on the fact that you were treating me differently than everyone else? I shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. “I don't know, I guess he was trying to make a point of it or something. Like to scare everyone else into taking it seriously.” I flipped another page of my Bio book even though I hadn't read the one I was on. “I mean, I won't make the same mistake again, that's for sure.”

She snorted. “Yeah, maybe that was his plan, like make sure people know he'll call you out if you're not paying attention. Kinda harsh, you know? I'm totally paranoid now that I'll forget an assignment and he'll totally embarrass me like he did you.”

“He didn't
totally
embarrass me or anything,” I said, suddenly defensive even though she was speaking the truth. “I mean, he's right. I didn't read the chapter or anything and I completely flunked that test. There's no way I got more than half of them right.”

Before we could talk any further, you stood up and walked to the center of the room, a thick stack of papers in your hands. “All right, guys. I've got your tests back, and I'll be returning them. Remember that the three tests in this course represent forty percent of your grade, and some of you have some real catching up to do.”

With that, you glanced down at the first test and walked to the jersey-obsessed guy at the end of the horseshoe, placing the test face down on his desk. I watched as he jokingly made a cross on his chest before flipping over the test, then fist-bumping his seat mate.

“God, I am so screwed … ” Katie whispered under her breath.

I laughed, but my palms had turned sweaty. My parents would kill me if I got a poor grade in this class. In any class. To them, failing wasn't even something that existed. It was something that happened to other people, people who didn't care about their futures or some crap.

You walked by, sliding Katie's test onto her desk before proceeding to someone three desks down.

“How'd you do?” I asked, resisting the urge to lean over in case Katie didn't want to share.

“Ew. Sixty-one,” she said, frowning.

“It's a pass,” I say.

“Barely! It's totally going to drag down my grade, and I want to be a nurse! Biology is kind of important.” She looked up at me, her pretty eye shadow bringing out the green hues of her hazel eyes. “We really have to study.”

“For sure. I can't do another test like that. My grade will shrivel up and die.” I was joking around, trying to pretend like I wasn't freaking out.

I'd never gotten a bad grade. Ever. Perfect little Madelyn Hawkins, Ivy-bound since the first grade, didn't fail.

And then there you were, sliding it onto my desk, moving on so quickly it's like you weren't standing there at all. I took in a deep breath and turned it over, and what I saw made me go completely still.

A-.

You gave me an A-.

“You liar!” Katie whispered, smacking my arm. “You totally aced it. Figures. You have this stuff down pat. Well, now I know who gets to lead our study sessions.”

You gave me an A-, Bennett.

I know I didn't earn it. You
gave
me that A-. I guessed on so many questions, I couldn't have just gotten lucky. I couldn't have truly earned that A-.

“Yeah, uh, I guess I did better than I thought,” I said, tucking the paper quickly into my binder, guilt swimming up my throat and choking me.

Did you change my answers, Bennett? I never wanted to look at that test again, so I didn't check. You either changed them or you simply wrote a false grade at the top of the page, and I didn't think I wanted to know which one it was. You'd said the word “
secret”
felt dirty, but this felt worse.

My mouth was dry and a sick feeling sat in the pit of my stomach like a bowling ball.

The rest of the day you didn't call me out in class, like on Tuesday, because you didn't call on me at all.

I wanted to say something to you right then, when the class was over, but I knew I couldn't, knew I needed more time to talk to you than the five minutes between class. And besides, I was going to your house on Friday.

Your address on that business card was burning a hole in my pocket.