Tutor Me (5 page)

I had to agree with her there. “I wish we’d gotten paired up too.” This tutoring gig would be a whole lot more chill without Callum in it. OK maybe a little dull, but certainly stress-free.

A little while later, feeling frankly a bit bored, I was saying goodbye to Lacey in the kitchen when I felt strong arms wrap around me from behind. Bryce. He was weaving a little and clearly loaded at this point. I twisted my head up and sideways to look at him.

“Thanks for a great party. I’m going to take off in a couple of minutes.”

He frowned. “So soon?” Boozy breath hit my nostrils.

Lacey interjected, “walk her to her car, Bryce. Jenny, text me when you get home.”

Bryce took my hand and led me through the very drunken party to the front door. Outside the temperature was finally dropping and the air felt refreshing after the stuffy party. We held hands as we approached my car, the sight of which somehow amused him.

“This car is tiny. I bet my truck weighs more than three of these.”

“Probably. I…” Bryce grabbed me and pulled me into his arms, kissing me hard on the lips. His body felt firm and strong against mine. He stuck his tongue in my mouth and it wasn’t unpleasant, but kissing a drunk guy when you’re stone cold sober just isn’t that romantic. I reciprocated though, feeling a sense of power at his reaction when I slipped my tongue inside his mouth.

After a while he pulled back, but kept his face inches from mine. I could smell his tequila breath again. “Jenny you are so fucking hot. I want to spend time with you. Sober. Just the two of us. How about a date next week?”

I nodded, my ego filling up at his words. He kissed me again.

“I’ll be in touch tomorrow.” He turned and headed inside.

I drove away, revisiting the evening and that final scene. Funny how he didn’t bother to ask how I felt about him- that was a given. I couldn’t believe Bryce Avery wanted to date ME.

“Definitely wear this. Way hotter.”

It was an hour before Bryce was to pick me up for our date and Lacey was helping me get ready. I had already told her that at 18 I had some experience dressing myself, but she blew my sarcasm off.  She had invited herself over and I got the impression she wanted to be a part of everything. If she could have joined us on the date to steer our conversation she probably would have. After rifling through my closet and making me try a couple dresses on (not that there was much to choose from), she was making her decision, a strapless sundress with black and white geometric patterns and A-line skirt that fell just above the knee. I’d bought it last spring at Tina’s insistence but rarely wore it.

“I’m not sure I’m aiming for hot tonight. I don’t plan to sleep with him. It’s a Tuesday for chrissake.”

As promised, Bryce had called me on Saturday afternoon. I was lying on my bed doing Physics homework when the phone rang.  “When can I take you out?” He was certainly direct.

“Next Friday?” I suggested.

“I want to see you sooner. What about Tuesday?”

“I have cheerleading practice.”

“I have football practice, so, not a problem. And I won’t keep you out late, I promise. I’ll pick you up at 6:30?”

“Cool!” I was thrilled though I couldn’t see how I would be able to even start homework until after the date.

My mind went back to Lacey, who was saying “Sure, but you want him panting for it, nonetheless.”

Did I? Why did Lacey make romance sound like a battle?

Lacey continued. “Take a shower and I’ll do your hair and make-up.”

I must have looked doubtful because she quickly said, “I’ll help I mean. I won’t make you look radically different than you normally do. You’re beautiful already, and you don’t want to seem like you’re trying too hard.”

“OK. I’ll be out of the shower in a few minutes.”

I headed across the hall into the bathroom, happy for a respite from Miss Cluck Cluck, my protective mother hen. I giggled to myself, mentally filing away that silly nickname to tell Tina later. I took a quick shower because my parents had raised me to be super vigilant about water usage, and then reappeared in a robe and my hair wrapped in a towel. Lacey was watching something on her phone. She looked up, surprise on her face.

“Wow, that was a fast shower! Sit down so I can do hair and makeup.” So much for helping, she was taking over. Actually I was happy to let her do my hair as I was awful at styling it, never having the patience to dry it fully, let alone straighten it or curl it. Usually it was just messy. The new socially ambitious me had been trying a little harder but nice hair took more work than dressing well, I’d discovered.

Lacey worked methodically and after what seemed like an eternity of pulling and brushing she got it to fall in beautiful glossy waves. My hair did look spectacular. We then had a tussle of wills over the makeup, with me pushing for absolute minimum (lip gloss and eye liner) and Lacey pressing for full foundation and more. I had watched Bethany Mota on Youtube and had learned something about makeup, but was still uncomfortable wearing much of it. We compromised with a light blush, some striking eye shadow in purple hues that gave my eyes a sultry look, mascara, and a dark lip stain with high gloss on top. Lacey stared appreciatively at her own handiwork, and took a photo of me to post on Instagram.

I smiled at her in the mirror. “OK I admit it, you can work miracles. I’m not giving you public credit for this though!”

“Of course not, but I’m still pleased.” Lacey grew serious for a moment. “Jenny I know I can be a bit, well, bossy, but I just really want this thing between you and Bryce to work out. Bryce is like Kai’s best friend and it would be so cool if the four of us could hang out together.”

I had to agree that did sound glamorous and awesome. Me and the beautiful people. Unreal.

“Well fairy godmother, you better get going cuz he’s going to be here in 10 minutes. Thank you for this.” I gestured up and down at myself.

“Oh no way, that’s you. I just brought you out a little more. Have a great time! Text me!”

We walked to the door together. “Bye Mr. Bartholomew,” Lacey waved breezily at my dad, sitting on the couch, on her way out.

My dad looked up, distracted, from a book, and called out “Bye”, belatedly.

After she left, my dad finally noticed me. “You’re all dressed up. Where are you off to?”

“I have a date with a guy named Bryce.”

I saw a flicker of interest in his eyes. I hadn’t dated anybody since Seb and I broke up over a year ago.

“He’ll be here in a few minutes. Please don’t quiz him about intellectual stuff. He’s not like that.”

“What do you mean? What is he like?” My dad looked confused.

“He’s a football player, jock type.”

My dad’s eyebrows shot up. “Low IQ?” My parents were unrepentant intellectual snobs.

“Jesus Ian I don’t know. He’s a nice guy. Not everybody has to be a brainiac.”

“True, and you’re young so you can sow your oats a bit.” I rolled my eyes at that, but my dad had already returned to his book.

The doorbell rang. When I opened the door, there was Bryce, his sandy blond hair slicked back, in a blue polo shirt and khakis. Man, he was gorgeous. His eyes widened as he looked at me. “You look amazing.”

That was an exaggeration, but nice of him to say. I grinned. “Thanks.”

I invited him in to meet Ian, with some dread. Most girls worried their father would grill a boy on his intentions. Mine was likely to grill him on whatever obscure topic had captured his fancy, like the origins of vaudeville or the life cycle of a cicada.  He wanted me to date someone who could hold a good conversation and tell him something he didn’t already know. He’d liked Seb for that reason, and for months after Seb and I broke up he would ask after him from time to time. This even though I had told him how Seb had cheated on me.

Sure enough, after an exchange of names and a handshake my dad announced he was reading “the new biography of Wilson”. This book on Woodrow Wilson was his latest obsession.

My heart sank. My eyes darted to Bryce but he seemed totally at ease.

“One of my heroes.”
Really? That was a surprise.

My dad glanced over with new interest at Bryce, then continued. “Amazing man, complicated and troubled, yes, but brilliant.”

Now it was Bryce’s turn to look surprised but he nodded in agreement. “Well, it all came down to the guys with him.”
Shit. Huge misunderstanding unfolding here!
Bryce was talking about Russell Wilson, the Seahawks QB. I should have intervened at that point but this conversation was like a train wreck I couldn’t stop watching.

My dad conceded, “I’ll give you that. He picked his cabinet carefully.”

Bryce looked confused for a moment at the word choice, but resumed bravely. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that without Lynch there would be no Wilson.”

My dad’s eyes darted to him sharply. “You’ve got me there, I’m only about a third of the way through the book and this Lynch you mention hasn’t made an appearance yet. Right hand man to Wilson, huh? I take it he got the shaft. History is never kind to those types.”

“Sir don’t get me started. Fucking tragic (excuse my language, sir). Worst strategy I’ve ever seen. Such a waste of great talent. I felt like punching a fist in the wall and I had nothing at stake in it.”

My dad looked at Bryce with new appreciation. “Your passion for history is refreshing. I wish my college students felt the way you did. I would love to hear your opinions on Hoover.”

I grabbed Bryce’s arm before this went any further. “We need to go. Have a good night.” I practically dragged Bryce out the door.

I clambered into Bryce’s SUV, a big white Suburban. Bryce looked over at me and grinned. I began to relax. Here I was on a date with my dream guy. Awesome!

As we drove down my block, he asked, “We’re going to Flanagan’s Steak House. I probably should have asked: is that OK? Some girls are vegetarians.”

“Some boys are too!”

“Yeh well probably some fruits in LA or San Fran or something.”

I let that go. “Anyway, I eat anything. Steak sounds good.”

“Sweet!” He smiled again and turned up the radio, a classic rock station. Lynyrd Skynyrd was on: Sweet Home Alabama. Bryce tapped the steering wheel to the beat.

We pulled up into the parking lot of the restaurant. Bryce jumped around to the passenger side to open the door for me and then as I leaned forward he grabbed me around the waist, lifted me up, and set me on the ground. I suppose I could have gotten down without his hands on my waist, but in my heels and skirt it wouldn’t have been pretty, so I was kind of grateful. His hands felt nice. As I straightened up his hands lingered on my waist. My eyes met his and I whispered “thanks”, his eyes sparking with a flash of intensity in response. He released me and we started walking toward the restaurant entrance, his hand on my lower back.

As we crossed the parking lot I felt someone’s stare on me. I glanced to the right and coming out of the boxing gym next door to the restaurant was Callum, watching me with a stony look on his face. He was wearing a gray t-shirt with the sleeves cut off that fully exposed his muscled arms, and black nylon shorts. His hair was wet with sweat and his whole body looked slick. He was holding a hand towel and a gym bag. A boy I recognized from school was with him, Theo was his name, but I only noticed him out of the corner of my eye because I was fixated on Callum. He was so sexy all sweaty that my breath hitched and I slowed down without meaning to. Bryce glanced down sharply at me and then followed my gaze to Callum. He immediately draped his arm over my shoulder. Callum had stopped walking and was just standing there, our eyes locked. We were too far away to talk but I had to do something so I mustered a smile and gave a short wave, which I regretted instantly.
A wave Jenny, how goofy!
  But Callum nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes flinty. Theo tugged at his arm, clearly trying to move his friend along, and Callum and I broke the stare and walked on. The entire encounter must have taken no more than a few seconds but it felt like it had all played out in slow motion.

“How do you know Caldwell?” I could hear tension in Bryce’s tone, even if his words were neutral.

“I’m just his Calc tutor is all.”

“You tutor him? I wonder how he arranged that.” Bryce’s voice was flat.

“Mr. Ferguson paired us randomly. It’s no big deal.”

Bryce sneered. “I don’t like the way that asshole was looking at you.”

I tried to play it cool. “There is nothing there. I’m not his type.”

“Trust me Jenny, if he’s straight, you’re his type. He so wants in your pants. You should drop this tutoring thing.” I liked the vote of confidence about my appearance but no way did this guy get to be territorial on the first date.

“Bryce, I can handle it. He’s harmless.” My tone was a little clipped and Bryce dropped the subject.

We had a nice dinner, talking mostly about, well, football and the team. Over dessert I finally asked, “So what else do you like to do besides play football?”

“Um watch football. Watch TV I guess. Oh, and play Call of Duty.”

I nodded. “Sure. What about music?”

“What about it?”

“What kind of music are you into?”

“You know, classic rock, some country.”

Now we were getting somewhere. “Who are your favorite bands?”

“Hmm. I just kind of listen to whatever comes on the radio. Florida-Alabama Line, they’re good.”

“Florida-Georgia Line you mean.”

“Yeh that’s right. Hey, did you get to see that pass Austin intercepted...?”

After dinner Bryce drove me home. Outside my house he pulled up, turned off the engine and the lights, and then swiftly leaned over to kiss me. We made out and I let him rub my boobs through my dress, although I didn’t feel much as the bodice was lined with all sorts of wires. He seemed to enjoy it though and he was a decent kisser. I still had Physics homework to do and I was tired after a long day, so after a little while I pulled away.

“Thanks for a great night, Bryce,” I said cheerfully.

Bryce looked dazed. “I don’t want to let you go, babe.”

I appreciated the sentiment but I hated to be called ‘babe’. Baby was alright but babe managed to sound both flippant and cloying at the same time. I didn’t want to discourage him or be rude though, so I didn’t say anything. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and put my hand on the door to open it. Bryce hurriedly opened his own and raced around in time to grab me by the waist again to help me down. He kept his fingers there, and kissed me again until I moved gently away.

“Well, thanks again.” I was a little impatient with this drawn-out goodbye.

“See you tomorrow, babe.”
Ugh was this babe thing going to stick?