Twenty-One
Ivy
T he next week went by in a blur. Q and I settled into an easier routine with his classes and each other. By now, everybody knew I was his tutor and nobody seemed to think much of it—it was high school—there was always some other new gossip to be spread. Besides, everyone loved him no matter what condition he was in.
At lunch, Q always went to sit with Ollie and CJ and the rest of his jock friends, like we didn’t even know each other. I noticed that Jazzy always sat with Ollie though. The one girl in the group of boys. I wondered if that was a sign of true love.
Fourth period I had orchestra and Q went to the gym and did some of his PT exercises, then we’d meet again in the piano room for fifth period. The only person that seemed to be bothered by our tutoring arrangement was Laurel Simmons. I caught the flirty looks she gave him and wondered what her game was. Even though she was dating Josh Hendershot now, it was like she knew she could get Q to dangle on the end of a string for her. Sadly, I wasn’t convinced that he wouldn’t do it if she asked.
Fifth period piano practice had evolved into its own peculiar routine. It was just the two of us alone in the practice room and Q asked me to play almost every day. He knew, as I did, that nobody would know, or probably care, if we didn’t play the piano at all.
“It helps relax me, Ivy,” he said in that annoyingly charming way of his. Did anyone ever tell the guy no? I didn’t know if he was telling the truth or not, but I agreed to play for ten minutes at the end of the period, but he had to practice the rest of the time.
When I played, he always sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, giving me the opportunity to stare at his near-perfect features. I hated to admit it, but I enjoyed that ten minutes as much as he seemed to.
I DROPPED MY backpack on the table in study hall. It was Wednesday. Midterms were next week and I was feeling the pressure of trying to keep up. Q was already seated with his back to the room, like normal, his books spread out before him.
“Hey.” He smiled at me. He was much more relaxed around me now and didn’t seem to care if I saw his wonky smile or not. “How are you?”
I looked up in surprise. He was wearing a baseball cap backwards, pulling his hair away from his forehead. I pretended I didn’t notice how crazy blue his eyes were. I think it was the first time he’d ever asked about me. I didn’t really think before I answered.
“Stressed.” I sat down and unzipped my bag.
He was watching me. “Have you always gotten straight A’s?”
“Yeah. I didn’t have a choice.” I pulled my trig book out of my backpack. “My parents would have kicked me out of the house if I didn’t.”
He was silent for a minute. “You get a lot of pressure from home?” There was something in his voice that made me pause. Like he felt sorry for me .
“Yes and no.” I rested my chin on my hand. “My parents just want the best for me. They know I can do it, so they push me. It was the same for my brother.”
“What does he do?” Kellen genuinely seemed interested.
“He’s a senior at Columbia University in New York. Pre-med. He’s hoping to eventually intern at Johns Hopkins before setting up his residency.”
“And what’s your life plan, Ivy Ly?” One side of Q’s mouth quirked, but I could sense the true curiosity behind the question. “Are you going to go to an Ivy League college and set up your residency somewhere, too?”
I shrugged, wondering why I was telling him all this. “Something like that.” I didn’t tell him that I couldn’t decide between music, medicine or a vapor trail to Paris. I was supposed to have my plan in place by now. “But what about you?” I stared back at him. If he could ask me personal questions, I could ask him, as well. “It can’t be easy to be the star quarterback and keep up good grades. You’re taking advanced classes and almost carrying a 4.0
Ivy
T he next week went by in a blur. Q and I settled into an easier routine with his classes and each other. By now, everybody knew I was his tutor and nobody seemed to think much of it—it was high school—there was always some other new gossip to be spread. Besides, everyone loved him no matter what condition he was in.
At lunch, Q always went to sit with Ollie and CJ and the rest of his jock friends, like we didn’t even know each other. I noticed that Jazzy always sat with Ollie though. The one girl in the group of boys. I wondered if that was a sign of true love.
Fourth period I had orchestra and Q went to the gym and did some of his PT exercises, then we’d meet again in the piano room for fifth period. The only person that seemed to be bothered by our tutoring arrangement was Laurel Simmons. I caught the flirty looks she gave him and wondered what her game was. Even though she was dating Josh Hendershot now, it was like she knew she could get Q to dangle on the end of a string for her. Sadly, I wasn’t convinced that he wouldn’t do it if she asked.
Fifth period piano practice had evolved into its own peculiar routine. It was just the two of us alone in the practice room and Q asked me to play almost every day. He knew, as I did, that nobody would know, or probably care, if we didn’t play the piano at all.
“It helps relax me, Ivy,” he said in that annoyingly charming way of his. Did anyone ever tell the guy no? I didn’t know if he was telling the truth or not, but I agreed to play for ten minutes at the end of the period, but he had to practice the rest of the time.
When I played, he always sat back in his chair and closed his eyes, giving me the opportunity to stare at his near-perfect features. I hated to admit it, but I enjoyed that ten minutes as much as he seemed to.
I DROPPED MY backpack on the table in study hall. It was Wednesday. Midterms were next week and I was feeling the pressure of trying to keep up. Q was already seated with his back to the room, like normal, his books spread out before him.
“Hey.” He smiled at me. He was much more relaxed around me now and didn’t seem to care if I saw his wonky smile or not. “How are you?”
I looked up in surprise. He was wearing a baseball cap backwards, pulling his hair away from his forehead. I pretended I didn’t notice how crazy blue his eyes were. I think it was the first time he’d ever asked about me. I didn’t really think before I answered.
“Stressed.” I sat down and unzipped my bag.
He was watching me. “Have you always gotten straight A’s?”
“Yeah. I didn’t have a choice.” I pulled my trig book out of my backpack. “My parents would have kicked me out of the house if I didn’t.”
He was silent for a minute. “You get a lot of pressure from home?” There was something in his voice that made me pause. Like he felt sorry for me .
“Yes and no.” I rested my chin on my hand. “My parents just want the best for me. They know I can do it, so they push me. It was the same for my brother.”
“What does he do?” Kellen genuinely seemed interested.
“He’s a senior at Columbia University in New York. Pre-med. He’s hoping to eventually intern at Johns Hopkins before setting up his residency.”
“And what’s your life plan, Ivy Ly?” One side of Q’s mouth quirked, but I could sense the true curiosity behind the question. “Are you going to go to an Ivy League college and set up your residency somewhere, too?”
I shrugged, wondering why I was telling him all this. “Something like that.” I didn’t tell him that I couldn’t decide between music, medicine or a vapor trail to Paris. I was supposed to have my plan in place by now. “But what about you?” I stared back at him. If he could ask me personal questions, I could ask him, as well. “It can’t be easy to be the star quarterback and keep up good grades. You’re taking advanced classes and almost carrying a 4.0
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