by E. L. Todd
I took the paper and didn’t tease him like I normally would. He didn’t exactly seem like the joking type. “Carmichael High?” That was the poorest school in the city, hands down. Nearly every student was in the food program, and they were using the same textbooks from the eighties.
“Yeah.” He adjusted the single strap on one shoulder.
His application said he was a sophomore and quickly approaching sixteen. I’d never had a student from Carmichael walk into this office before, but there was a first time for everything. “How can I help you?”
He pulled his hair off to the side even though it wasn’t in his eyes. He looked at me head-on but seemed uncomfortable doing so. “I want a tutor.”
“Sure thing. What subject?”
He shrugged. “Whatever.”
Whatever? “There’s not a specific class you need help with?”
He fidgeted with his strap again. “I guess math and English.”
That was a better answer. “We have a few different programs you can enroll in. Annual programs, monthly, etc. Is there something you specifically want?”
“Well, I want to prepare for the SAT.”
“Then you probably want the annual one.”
He shrugged then dug into his pockets.
I watched his movements, wondering what he was doing.
He pulled out a few bills and a collection of change. “Do you have a payment plan? I have some for a down payment.” He placed everything on the counter between us. It amounted to $28.75. It was chump change to me, but probably a fortune to him. “Is this enough?”
Not by a long shot. That was barely enough to pay the tutor for just one hour. “Not quite.” I pulled out a financial aid form, assuming this kid was from a low-income household just by looking at him, and handed it over. “Just fill this out, and you won’t have to pay a dime.”
He took the form and read through it, looking stressed rather than relieved. His hand automatically moved through his hair, pulling it back and revealing more of the side of his face.
And that’s when I saw it.
A distinct purple bruise high on his upper cheekbone. It faded underneath his hair, difficult to see with the naked eye.
My laid-back manner disappeared, the concern coming through. “What’s your name?”
He kept looking at the form. “Why does it ask for my parents’ income?”
“We just need to verify that so you’ll qualify for after-school aid.”
He set the form on the counter. “Never mind. Thanks anyway.” Then without saying good-bye, he walked away.
“Whoa, hold on.” I rose out of my chair and kept him in my line of sight.
He was already at the elevator and hitting the button.
“Kid, hold on.” I came around the desk and headed to the elevator, not wanting to run because that might freak him out more than he already was.
He walked into the elevator and hit the button, the doors closing and hiding him from view. Then it began to move, sinking to the bottom of the building.
I put my hands on my hips and stared at my distorted reflection in the closed doors. Something didn’t feel right with this kid. He looked like a mess, he refused to provide his parents’ information, and then he ran from me like I was going to make his life more difficult.
But now he was gone.
***
I sat at our usual table with two muffins set in front of me. The sun was shining, but the few trees around the area sprinkled shade to keep it cool. My aviator sunglasses were on my nose, keeping my eyes comfortable.
Taylor emerged from the crowd and headed for the table. She wore a sundress with a pink cardigan, alligator earrings in her ears, and she had a tote bag with the globe on it. Even if I didn’t know her, I could tell she was a teacher just by looking at her.
And she looked pissed.
She dropped into the seat across from me and tore the sunglasses off her face, letting me get the full scope of her anger. “What. The. Hell.”
I pushed the plate toward her. “I got your favorite—a chocolate muffin.”
She shoved it back across the table. “I don’t want your sorry food.”
I didn’t believe that for a second. “Alright. I’ll just eat it then.” I reached for the muffin, watching her expression the entire time. As I suspected, her anger diminished as her appetite took over. If she let me have this muffin, then she would have to stand in line for twenty minutes to get another. And chances were, they’d probably be sold out by then.
She grabbed the plate and dragged it back toward her, keeping it out of my reach.
I grinned from ear to ear.
“Why did you crash my date last weekend?”
We hadn’t spoken in a week because I knew she was mad at me. I gave her some space so she could cool off. Obviously, that didn’t work. “Look, I didn’t know you guys were on a date. I just came by like I would any other time. It’s not like a schedule was posted on your door.”
“But when you found out I was on a date, you stuck around.”
“So?” I asked. “I wanted to see what he was like. And by the way, I’m not a fan.”
She reached across the table and snatched my muffin. Now she had two.
“Ooh…big punishment.”
“How would you feel if I crashed one of your dates? I just hopped in and got right between you?”
I couldn’t stop smiling at the arousing image in my head. “I’d love that, actually.”
Her cheeks tinted immediately. “Don’t be gross.”
“What?” I asked innocently. “I’m just being honest. I love threesomes. Sometimes pleasing one woman is just too easy.”
“Ugh, I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” If she did, she wouldn’t have met me for lunch. “Speaking of pleasing, does he still suck in bed?”
“I never said he sucked.”
“Because he clearly isn’t doing any sucking.” I waggled my eyebrows.
She grabbed a piece of muffin and threw it hard at my face.
I let it bounce onto the floor, where a group of pigeons ripped it apart. “Has he made you come yet?”
“Yes,” she said defensively.
“How many times?”
“What does it matter?”
“It does matter. Is he bringing you to that special place every time?”
She turned her attention to the muffin and started to eat it. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”
“Why? Because you know I’m right?”
“Right about what?”
“That the sex isn’t working and you need to find someone else.”
“Volt, sex isn’t everything.”
“But it’s a lot.”
I grabbed my muffin and dragged it back to my side of the table. “So, he only makes you come once in a while?”
“I don’t know,” she said as she picked her muffin apart. “I’d say once every four times.”
I almost spit out my food because I was disgusted. “And he calls himself a man?”
“Shut up, Volt.”
“No, that’s bullshit.”
“Why do you care so much about my sex life?” she argued.
“Because you’re my friend. And friends don’t let friends have terrible sex. If you were Derek, I’d say the same thing. He was with this one chick who hated blow jobs, so I told him to kick her to the curb. And guess what? He did.”
She rolled her eyes. “Stuff like that isn’t as important to women.”
I laughed because it was absurd. “Women are just as sexual as men. They like sex, and they shouldn’t feel ashamed to say it. You clearly haven’t had a great experience in the bedroom. If you had, you wouldn’t be settling.”
“Not settling.”
“You so are.”
“Look, enough of this conversation. Just stop crashing my dates.”
“He wasn’t even that interesting,” I said. “And he plays video games? What is he? Five?”
“Hey, I
like video games,” she said defensively.
“This guy is a total nerd. What do you see in him?”
“For your information, he’s very sweet.”
“If you care about sweetness, eat a peach.”
Taylor made a deep sigh, expressing her obvious irritation with me. “I’m done talking about this.”
If she wanted to settle for some skinny guy who didn’t know how to tap her headboard against the wall, then fine. She was the one missing out. “Whatever.”
She kept her head down and ate her muffin quietly. When the tension became too much, she broke off a piece of her food and tossed it to the birds. Her nails were bright green, reminding me of a neon light show. I noticed she did her nails in different colors, always bold and striking. “How was your week?”
“Fine.” I thought of the kid who came into the office. I never got his name, and I kept wondering what happened to him. I watched the birds walk past our feet, searching for any crumb they could have possibly missed.
“It doesn’t sound fine.” She pulled the wrapper off the muffin and ate the remaining pieces.
“I just had a weird interaction with a kid.”
“What does that mean?” She set her muffin down, more interested in me than eating—which was a first.
“He came by the office and tried to sign up for tutoring. When I told him he had to fill out a financial aid form, he took off.”
“That’s not too strange.”
“He had a bruise on the side of his face. And he’s the first kid I’ve ever had from Carmichael High.”
Taylor became very still, her breathing shallow. “A bruise?”
“It was past his cheekbone.” I used my hand to mark the area on my own face. “He has uneven hair that covered most of it, but I spotted it. He wanted to pay for the service on his own, but he only had a few bucks. When I asked him to list information about his parents, that’s when he took off.”
“That doesn’t sound good…”
“I never got his name. And I haven’t stopped thinking about him.”
“Maybe you can trace him down by going to the high school.”
“If I don’t have a reason to be there, it’s going to look really bad.”
“Don’t go on campus. Just watch from across the street.”
“I guess I could do that.” The short interaction I had with him was enough to stick with me for a lifetime.
“I think you should.”
My parents were upstanding citizens, and Connor and I always had what we needed. Not just financially, but academically. My dad was always a role model to me, and he gave me the resources to succeed. When I noticed the other students on the lunch program or getting sent to the principal’s office every other day, it made me realize how much I had. I was the valedictorian of a school with two thousand students, and that never would have happened without my parents’ encouragement. I always pitied students who didn’t have that kind of support at home. “Me too.”
***
The bell rang, and kids filed out like ants leaving the anthill. They grabbed their bikes and skateboards and took off, heading to the skate park or to get a drink from Starbucks.
My eyes scanned the crowd, searching for the small boy who stopped by my office. Carmichael High was oversaturated with students, and it was a sea of nameless faces.
But luck was on my side, and I spotted him.
After most of the students left, he approached the bike rack and unlocked his mountain bike. It looked too old to be usable, and the chain was barely hanging on. He pulled it from the bars and was about to hop on when he noticed the problem himself. He kneeled down and fixed it like he’d done it a hundred times.
That’s when I made my move.
I crossed the street and headed down the sidewalk until I was near enough to speak to him. I stood over him, my hands in the pockets of my suit. My shadow covered his face.
He looked up when he noticed me. “What?” At first, he didn’t recognize me, but after he took in my features, he made the connection. “What the hell do you want?” He stood up straight and pulled his bike close to him, ready to take off again.
“Whoa, calm down. I just want to talk.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Why is that?” I kept my hands in my pockets and seemed as unthreatening as possible.
“Because you’re a creep who follows kids around, maybe?” he said like a smartass.
To defuse the situation, I smiled. “Following kids around isn’t my thing. I only came here because I had a meeting with the principal. And that’s when I recognized you. So, chill.”
“Really?” he snapped. “What’s the principal’s name?”
This kid was brighter than I gave him credit for. “Principal Littleton.” I happened to know everything about the New York school system, both public and private.
His suspicion died down but didn’t disappear altogether. The bruise that was on his face last week was gone, but there was a new one on his arm. I tried not to stare.
“You got a minute to talk?”
“No.” He secured his chain and hopped on the bike.
I wanted to stop him, but there wasn’t much I could do. “If you’re still interested in the program, there’s room for you.”
“I don’t have any money.” He started to pedal away.
“There’s no fee.”
“I’m not filling out that stupid paper.” He gave me one final look before he started to pick up speed.
I was going to lose this kid if I didn’t do something. “You don’t have to. You don’t even need to tell me your last name if you don’t want to.”
To my luck, he hit the brakes. He turned the bike around and faced me, his hands gripping the handlebars. “Are you lying?”
“No. I wouldn’t lie to you.” I kept my cool even though I was panicking inside. Something told me I couldn’t let this kid go. I had to intervene in his life, make him come to my tutoring program. If I lost him, I’d regret it forever.
He studied me with suspicion before he pedaled back to me. “So, I don’t have to fill out any paperwork?”
“No.”
“My dad won’t find out I’m there?”
Why would he want to hide tutoring from his own family? That just made me more uneasy. “Not unless you tell him yourself.”
“Why is it free all of a sudden?”
Because I was paying for it. “We have special programs for all students with different needs.”
Finally, he dropped his uneasiness. “When can I start?”
“Whenever you want. We have a lot of different tutors you can choose from, based on your needs.”
He twisted the handlebars slightly, his eyes looking off into the distance like he was thinking.
I noticed he was careful with his words. He thought about every action before he made it, like every little thing mattered. He had the thought process of a diplomat, wise beyond his years.
“I want to take the SATs.” He looked down like he was embarrassed.
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“But I’m terrible at math and English. Actually, I’m terrible at everything. I was hoping I could score high enough to get into a junior college or something…”
I noticed his jeans were the same ones he wore when I first met him. And now I wondered if that was the only pair of jeans he owned. “We can make that happen.”
“Yeah?” he asked in surprise.
“Absolutely.” I was definitely the best tutor in the building since I was the only one who had been a teacher at one point. My knowledge wasn’t necessarily better, but I understood how to work with special-needs students—like this one. “What should I call you?”
“Clay. What’s your name?”
“Volt.”
He raised both eyebrows. “Mr. Volt?”
“No.” I gave him a smile. “Just Volt.”
***
I walked into the bar and spotted the gang min
gling near the couches in the rear. My eyes immediately went to Taylor, seeing her in a charcoal gray dress that hugged her hips perfectly. Purple heels were on her feet, and despite the clash, they looked great on her. Her calf muscles bulged out impressively, and her ass was even perkier than usual.
I grabbed two drinks then made my way over there. “This is for you.”
Taylor already had a drink, but she took mine anyway. “What’s this for?”
“I always buy hot women drinks. And you look damn fine tonight.”
The corner of her lip automatically rose in a semi-grin. Half embarrassed, half flattered, she turned away and set her previous drink down. “Well, thanks…” She took a sip then savored the taste on her tongue. “Just hope it’s not spiked.”
“Nah. I don’t need drugs to get a woman into bed.” I drank my beer while my eyes remained glued to hers the entire time. “So, who picked this out for you?”
“What?”
I looked her up and down. “This ensemble.”
“That was all me, thank you very much.”
“You’ve got great taste. And you know exactly where you got it from.”
“Cosmo?” she asked playfully.
“We both know it was me.”
Natalie came over wearing a skintight dress and heels that were so high they might break her ankles. I knew she dressed to impress, but there was only one person she was trying to attract—and he didn’t notice her. “I was wondering if you were going to say hi to the rest of us.”
I gave her a short wave. “Hey.”
She eyed us back and forth suspiciously, a few drinks already swirling in her belly. “Okay, seriously. What’s going on between you two?”
“Between us?” Taylor asked incredulously.
“Yeah,” Natalie said. “The two of you are always tucked away in your own little world, and you always hang out. There has to be something you aren’t telling us.” She backed us into a corner and wouldn’t let up.
“We’re just friends,” Taylor said. “I already told you that.”
“Friends with benefits?” Natalie leaned forward like she was in on our little secret.
“I wish,” I said. “But no.”
“You guys are two peas in a pod,” Natalie said. “And I’ve never seen Volt be just friends with anybody.”
“I’m just friends with you,” I pointed out.