Page 26 of Tutored in Love
“I think it’s odd,” I say, returning to my point and pressing my luck against this lighter mood, “that you’ve been helping me for all this time and I know nothing more about you than I did the first day.”
He turns the page on my assignment as if I haven’t spoken, but I see the muscle in his jaw tick. I try some wait time, like I do with my after-school kids, to see if the awkward silence will persuade him to answer. He clears his throat, swallows, and opens his mouth to speak. At long last, the perplexing Noah Jennings is going to shine some light on his life outside this lab. I hold utterly still in anticipation.
“You dropped the negative sign on this coefficient,” he says, lightly circling the problem with his pencil and moving on to the next.
What?
I was so sure he’d finally tell me something about himself that this nonanswer renders me speechless. I want to call him on it—Iknowhe was joking around, letting a side of himself peek out from that thick shell he always wears—but he doesn’t give me a chance, working through the rest of the assignment and teaching me how to correct the errors he finds, barely leaving me time to breathe between problems. In a blink, we’re done and he’s gone, leaving me even more frustrated with his remoteness than before.
Now I know there’s a sense of humor behind that stony front, but I didn’t even get a chance to rib him about his ditzy date.
It’s looking like another long evening in which I should tackle my paper, but I’m relieved to find Ivy home when I walk through the door. She’s staring at the TV and doesn’t say anything to me even when I sit next to her on the couch. That wouldn’t be terribly unusual, except that the TV is off and her eyes are red-rimmed and puffy.
“Hey,” I say.
She sniffs.
“You okay?”
She shrugs.
“Family okay?”
She nods.
“Dave?”
Another shrug. Some welling up.
“What happened?”
“I ruined everything. I kissed him.”
“What? Why is that bad? Did he kiss you back?”
She smiles, sad yet smug. “Yeah.”
“Was it... ?”
Her eyes close and her smile deepens. “So good.”
I’m so confused. “Then why did that ruin everything? Did he not think it was good?”
“He only wanted to be friends and now he can’t even be my friend anymore because I stupidly, arrogantly assumed that if I could just get him to kiss me, he’d see we’re perfect for each other.” She blows out a gust of frustration. “He said he’s too attracted to me.”
Wait. What? “Is that even a thing? Too attracted? Attraction is agoodthing, especially when you’re already friends like you two!”
“Agreed,” she says, “but he doesn’t see it that way. I should have known better. He’s told me about his family, his mom. It’s pretty messed up. Apparently she stepped out on his dad and has bounced around a ton of relationships since, all based solely on physical attraction. I think he’s determined that he won’t date or marry for attraction because he doesn’t want to end up like his parents.”
“So he won’t date youbecausehe’s attracted to you?”
Another nod. “And we can’t spend any more time together because I ruined our platonic friendship withlustfulness.” The word drips with disdain.
“Is that what he said? That you were lustful?” I ask, mama-bear hackles raised.
She scoffs. “No, but he implied it. And more about himself than me.” Her hands fiddle with a loose thread on the blanket enveloping her. “It was just a kiss, Gracie. A really good one, but still.”
“I’m going to—”