by Hanna Ruthie
Struggling. Her choice of words rubs me the wrong way.
“Maybe you’re just a shit tutor.”
Shock covers her pretty features, her eyes going wide, her mouth opening to form a little ‘O’.
“I-I… I’m sorry if you feel that way. I’m really trying. Maybe we just haven’t connected yet.”
I roll my eyes. I’m bored with her already.
“We haven’t really discussed which studying methods work the best for you,” she continues. “Are you a visual learner or a verbal learner?”
“I don’t know. When it comes to bio, nothing makes any fucking sense.”
“Well I… I can’t help you unless you help me. I’m sure if we made a study schedule with different types-”
“Okay, Mary, I’m gonna stop you right there. See, I don’t do study schedules. I do class, workouts, practice, and a good party if I can fit one in. This is already fucking with my day to day routine so I can assure you, outside of this library, there will be no more studying going on.”
I see the annoyance in her eyes. She brushes a hair out of her face, flustered with frustration… with me.
“Okay, first,” she starts, “What’s with the Mary thing?”
I lean forward, angry with this entire conversation. “I thought you were supposed to be smart Mary Virginia.”
Realization crosses over her eyes and she leans back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Ohh I see. A play on words huh? Mary Virginia, Virgin Mary... very clever.”
She’s trying to play it off but I can tell she’s bothered by it.
“Second,” she continues, “I hate to break it to you, but you can’t get by without doing some studying at home. It might suck but you’re not going to pass this class without it, and I don’t think your coach would like that very much.”
I scowl at her. She’s smart to bring up coach. She’s got me right where she wants me. As much as I hate all of this, I need her, more than she needs me. Doesn’t mean I have to play nice though.
Josie sits up again and pushes the notes towards me. “Now, can we please pick up where we left off?”
I mumble something that resembles a “Fine”, and try to focus.
Chapter 3
Josie Virginia.
Man this guy is getting under my skin. I hate that I’m letting him. But every time he calls me Mary with that damn smirk, I just want to smack him upside the head. The only time he’s tolerable is when he’s actually trying. Our first session was short, I just figured out where we needed to start reviewing. Our second session was basically garbage since he didn’t actually retain the first half hour of studying we did. I have high hopes this time around. He brought his lecture notes from class, he says they’re allowed to use them on their test on Friday. Finally, he’s given me a little direction in which to help steer him. He brings his laptop and with my own, he shares his notes with me. I go over them with him, reviewing the most important points and adding notes and commentary in the margins for him to focus on. He seems to be getting it today. And I actually, foolishly begin to believe it’s a step in the right direction.
“Makes sense right?” I ask Matthew, peering across the table at him.
“I guess,” he murmurs.
I pull out a diagram that I printed out for him. I draw arrows towards different parts of the cell, what we’re studying today. I slide the paper over to him.
“Why don’t you take a look at this and see what you can label.”
“Uhh no.” He slides the paper back towards me.
I look down at the paper and then back up at Matthew, confused.
“What’s the problem?” I ask.
“I’ve got it, I don’t need that thing.”
“Well it can’t hurt,” I shrug.
“I said I’ve got it Mary.”
I close my mouth, backing off. Then, just because I’m bored and waiting for him to finish, I label the parts of the cell myself, testing my memory. When I fill out all the parts correctly I smile.
“Well gold- fucking- star for you Mary,” Matthew sneers, looking down at the paper.
Why does he have to be so mean? So confrontational. He’s taking pleasure from my being uncomfortable.
“You can keep it to study if you want?” I offer.
He glares at me until I look away, taking it as a cold no. I roll up my sleeves, feeling warm just from his anger. It radiates off of him. The action reveals a couple bracelets I’m wearing on my wrist. I look back down at my computer, typing a couple more notes for him to review later.
“Are you going to keep making so much noise?” Matthew asks.
This is getting exhausting. His insults are demanding and relentless. It’s like I’m at war with him, constantly being bombarded.
“What’s the problem?” I ask.
He nods to my bracelets. “Those are making a shit ton of noise and it’s annoying as fuck.”
“Sorry,” I say, pulling them off and setting them to the side.
Matthew pulls out his phone and leans back in his chair, tapping around. I wait for a minute, hoping he’s just texting a quick message. After a few minutes however, it becomes painfully obvious he’s playing a game, his phone turned horizontal in his hand.
“Matthew?” I say his name, trying to get his attention.
He doesn’t look up at me.
“Can we get back to work?” I ask.
He glances up at me, his grey eyes unnerving. “What are you, my fucking Mom?”
I shrink in my chair. This feels hopeless. He must hate me. There isn’t a single thing I can seem to do right.
“No I just… we still have thirty minutes of tutoring time on the clock.”
Matthew continues to ignore me, playing his game. I struggle with what to do. If I keep pushing, I know he’s going to snap. And considering how he is on a normal basis, I don’t think I want to see that. I sit, thinking of a way to get him involved when two large, noisy guys come up behind him.
“Hey Matt,” one of them says, slapping him on the back.
Matthew’s head turns as he looks behind him at the two guys.
“Chris, Thomas, hey,” he says, offering them knuckles. They bump fists with him and then look over at me.
“Who’s this?” One of them asks. He’s blonde, tall, blue eyes and a smile on his face.
“My tutor,” Matthew answers rudely, not even giving them my name.
“I’m Josie,” I say, introducing myself. I hold out my hand and the blondie shakes it.
“Thomas,” he says.
I look over at the other one. He’s brunette with brown eyes, a little shorter than his friend but with arms twice as buff. He shakes my hand too. “Chris,” he says.
“Well, I got a handshake out of the two of you which is already more than I can say of Matthew here,” I joke, trying to make myself seem comfortable.
Matthew’s eyes find mine and show me he’s very much un-amused. Thomas and Chris however seem to find it humorous, laughing and clapping hands on Matthew’s shoulders.
“Don’t sweat it,” Thomas says. “He’s a grump. Has been since the day we met him.”
“Fuck off,” Matthew says, clearly annoyed to be the center of attention in our conversation.
Chris and Thomas only laugh. I look at them surprised.
“We’re used to it,” Chris explains. “We’re roommates and teammates. It’s about as advanced as his vocabulary gets.”
I bite my lip to keep from smiling. Finally, some much needed relief. It’s nice to see Matthew in the hot seat for once.
Thomas pipes in. “Honestly, he says it so much it loses its meaning.”
“Are you two planning on studying with us? We’re working here,” Matthew bristles, trying to get rid of them.
“Oh please Steele, you were on your phone as of two minutes ago. Not even giving poor Josie here the time of day,” Chris shoots back.
This time, I can’t control it when a small gigg
le slips out. I can’t help it. It’s nice to see Matthew called out on his crap. His eyes narrow on me and I swear he’s hoping I’ll ignite from his contact. After a few moments he takes his eyes off of me and looks up at Chris.
“I’m surprised you know where the library is Chris, I didn’t think you could read.”
“Ooh, good one,” Chris replies, unaffected. He begins to move away from the table though, clearly tired of Matthew’s rude attitude.
“Sorry Josie,” he adds, saluting me. “I’ve got to deal with him on the court and at mi casa, I’ve got no patience for him anywhere else.”
Thomas gives Matthew one more pat on the shoulder.
“Hang in there Josie,” he says. “You develop thick skin after you’ve been around him for a while.”
He throws up a hand in goodbye and follows Chris across the library. Matthew sits, steaming, staring at me from across the table. He didn’t like that interaction one bit. It couldn’t have come at a better time for me. I got a little bit of reassurance. I’ve just got to be patient. I clear my throat, hoping somehow his anger will go from boiling to only scalding.
“So, I added a few more notes for you to look at,” I say quietly.
I see his jaw tighten in a hard clench. He’s keeping from spewing venomous words at me. Releasing the angriest sigh I think I’ve ever heard, he sits forward, looking at his laptop again. And thank God, he stays with me until the end of the session.
* * *
The next week, I spot Matthew coming in fast. He slams his things down at the table, seething. His phone in his hand, he shoves it in my face.
“What. The. Fuck.”
I push his hand away so I can at least focus on what he’s showing me. It’s a grade from the test he took, the one he could use his notes on. 66% shines back at me. Yikes. I do feel a little bad, but I quickly shake out of it. Maybe if he spent more of his time out of class studying, and more of his time here not being an asshole to me, he’d be making more progress. Still, not wanting to be mean, I try my best to cheer him up.
“Aw man, that’s too bad,” I say, genuinely sympathetic. “It’s okay, we’ll do better on the next one.”
“Really? That’s all you’ve got for me Mary? Maybe you really are a shit tutor.”
I know he’s just angry, but I also believes he means what he says. And this Mary crap is really starting to get to me.
“Look, Matthew, I’m sorry about the grade, that sucks. But we can use this going forward. We can see what you did wrong and work on-”
“What I did wrong?” He interrupts. “I don’t fucking think so. I signed up for a tutor. I showed up. I brought notes. We went over them. This is your fault.”
Regrettably, I let his immaturity get to me. “How could it be my fault? I’m not the one who took the test.”
Oh man does that make him mad. His nostrils flare. “You fed me a bunch of bullshit, I know you did. You wanted me to fail.”
I actually laugh at the ridiculous nature of his statement. “Why, why would I ever do that?”
“Because you’re spiteful Mary. And you’re jealous of me and sad that you’re too much of a fucking prude to get fucked good and hard.”
And that’s the line. I stand up, meeting his glare head on.
“Call me Mary one more time!” I shout.
The library goes even more silent than it already was. You could hear a pin drop. Matthew looks shocked but only temporarily. Soon a snide smirk stretches across his face. He’s happy he got a ride out of me. I hate that I let him.
I lower my voice as I continue addressing him.
“That’s not my name and you know it.”
Matthew shrugs at me, that smirk still floating happily over his features.
“It isn’t cute, nor is it funny Matthew. It’s disrespectful and degrading, and I won’t continue to put up with it, no matter how much I need the money.”
He opens his mouth to argue but I continue.
“I tried to help you at our last session! I gave you the diagram, which you ignored. I tried to work with you, but you ignored me and played games on your phone and said mean things!”
“Aww poor baby,” he fires back. “Did you go home and cry to Mommy after I said those mean things? Tough shit. Welcome to the real world.”
“Stop! Just stop being such an asshole! Who raised you to be this way?!”
“I was raised to see through the bullshit; and right now, I’m seeing right through you.”
God he makes me so angry that my fingers curl into fists. I can feel my face turning red, my body getting worked up. I swear for the first time in my entire life I want to punch something.
“If you think showing up to three tutoring sessions, only one of which you actually paid attention in by the way, is going to get you a good grade- you’re wrong. And if you think I’m going to sit here and take this crap after helping you, you’ve got another thing coming. I’m a good tutor. And I’m a good person, and I don’t deserve this. And I think I could really help you Matthew, but if this is how you’re going to treat me after one bad grade, I’m quitting right here and now.”
Finally, finally, something I said seems to get through to him. He stares me down, still angry. I meet him with a stare of my own. I’m not backing down. Not on this one.
“Fine,” he snaps. “No need to get your granny panties in a twist.”
I feel my fists clench tighter under the table at that last dig.
“Why do you hate me?” I ask.
He stares me down for a second, grey eyes piercing me, and damn if they don’t hurt.
“It’s not just you Princess. I hate everyone, don’t take it personally.”
My fists unclench at his words. It wasn’t pretty or nice, still far from it. But… it was the first semi-truthful thing I think he’s ever said to me. I believe him. He does hate everyone. He has to, at least that’s what I’ll chose to believe. At least if he hates everyone I don’t have to take it to heart as much as I have been. Because I… I’ve never done anything wrong to him! And you shouldn’t treat people who have never wronged you the way he’s treating me.
I sigh. “Princess? Really?”
It’s a step up from Virgin Mary, but not by much. His eyes stare me down, not budging.
“Why don’t we try my real name?” I ask.
His eyes narrow at me.
“Josie,” I suggest. “Or Josephine if you’re more comfortable with that.”
He studies me for a few long moments and sits down at the table. I sit as well, rubbing my hands through my hair, trying to relieve some of the stress this situation has created.
“Now,” I sigh. “Did she give you your test back?”
“Yes,” he mumbles.
“Then get it out. Let’s take a look and see what went wrong.”
Chapter 4
Matthew Steele.
“Take a seat,” coach says.
I sit down in the chair across from his desk, my hands sweating. Coach takes his baseball cap off and runs his hand through his hair.
“I guess we’ll just jump right in.”
I swallow nervously and nod my head.
“I told you before to find a tutor and get your shit together, right?”
I nod. “Yes coach. And I did-”
He holds his hand up, signaling for me to stop. I close my mouth abruptly.
“I did a grade check the other day and saw that your grade in your bio class has dropped. Dropped Steele.”
“I know, it was this one stupid test. I-”
“Cut the bullshit son. I get enough excuses from my teenagers at home. I expect more from a twenty two year old.”
I swallow, nodding my head again.
“You’re a great point guard Steele. The best we’ve got. But if the semester cut-off comes and your grade in bio isn’t passing, you’re off the team. I told you this before and I’m telling you again.”
“Yes sir,” I murmur.
“If you need to double tim
e with your tutor or cut back on workouts to get this shit together, do it. These aren’t my rules, they’re the schools. And unless you want to lose your scholarship, I suggest you straighten out boy.”
I nod my head slowly.
“Understand?” He asks.
“Yes coach.”
“Good. Now you’re excused. And close the door on your way out.”
* * *
“You’re late,” Josie says, sounding disappointed.
“I know I’m late,” I reply. “I had a meeting with my coach and I couldn’t get out of it and it went late.”
She opens her mouth to say something but I cut her off.
“And I already got my ass chewed out once today so just… lay off. I’m late. Tough shit.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, already defensive.
“I was just going to say we should swap numbers. So if either one of us is running late or has to cancel, we can get in touch. That way, one of us isn’t sitting here waiting for forty minutes.”
I don’t miss her dig, but I don’t feel bad about it either. Conscience button is pressed off, today and everyday.
“Fine,” I say, sliding her my phone. She pulls out her own and taps around on the two for a minute, putting in the contact information. Eventually, she hands it back to me.
“Thanks,” she says softly.
I nod my head, sliding my phone away. I can’t be a dick today, there’s actually some shit I need to ask of her.
“Listen,” I start. “Can you go late today? I really need the full hour and a half. There’s a quiz on Friday.”
“Matthew, we’d finish after nine.”
“So?”
“So, the library closes at nine.”
“Oh,” I sigh. “Well we could go somewhere else. I promise I won’t be a dick. I just really fucking need the help.”
Josie rubs her eyes tiredly. I know I’m asking her to go out on a limb here but she’s nice, and a part of me knows she’ll do it.
“Fine,” she sighs. “The bookstore closes at ten. We can work there.”