Page 15 of Down My Chimney

I blinked and looked up. “I’m sorry,” I said for what felt like the millionth time. “I know it sucks to be stuck helping someone like me. We can just call it a day.”

Marika laughed. “Technically, we can’t. We have to work together for five hours a week or we won’t fulfill the terms of the tutoring agreement.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure you have other things you’d rather do than help some dumb jock who doesn’t know how to read.”

“What I’d most like to do is get paid, which won’t happen if we don’t stick this out,” she said. “And you’re not a dumb jock, and you emphaticallydoknow how to read, if those mystery text messages you keep staring at are any indication.”

She pointed down at my screen, and as if on cue, a new text from Henry appeared. The weight in my chest lifted a little. I picked my phone up to read what he’d said.

HENRY: You like waffles, right? There’s this diner I want to bring you to on Friday night and they do amazing waffles. You can get one that’s got a foot of whipped cream on it

I smiled and wrote back.

BLAKE: I’d rather get whipped cream IN something

BLAKE: And by something, I mean you

BLAKE: And by whipped cream, I mean…well, you get the idea

I set my phone back on the table, screen down, and found Marika grinning at me. I made a face.

“Maybe I keep staring at them because I can’t actually comprehend their meaning,” I said, which made her roll her eyes. “And if I weren’t a dumb jock, I wouldn’t need tutoring to begin with. They don’t offer this kind of support to just any student, you know. Only athletes get this deal.”

That was yetanotherthing I felt guilty about. The school didn’t want it to look like they’d admitted me just to help their soccer record, even though that was exactly what they’d done. They went above and beyond to make sure I didn’t completely embarrass them, but it felt wrong, getting extra help just because I could run and kick a ball at the same time.

“I agree it’s not fair,” Marika said. “But I don’t think you’re going to make things fairer by not abiding by the terms of the agreement and losing your scholarship.”

I groaned. “I hate that you’re right about that.”

She just smiled. “Why do you think I work as a tutor? Iama genius, after all. Now come on, if we can settle on a topic, we can probably get a solid outline of your paper done in the next hour…”

* * *

“Yo, Blakester. You going up to LA today?” Taylor asked when I walked into the living room the next morning.

He’d flopped onto the futon in front of the TV while Matty stood in the kitchen, threatening to set the smoke alarm off again with his fourth attempt at making scrambled eggs.

I hefted the duffel bag in my hand. I had two classes to get through first, but I was going straight from them to my car. “Yeah. I’ll be back Sunday night.”

“Can you get me some of those meat pies from Salaam Cafe?”

“What am I, your maid? Just get some here.”

“Nothing in San Diego is as good as it is back home,” Taylor complained.

“They wouldn’t even be good anymore by the time I got them back here.”

“They would be if you brought them in a cooler. Just put a little ice in it and you’ll be good to go. Come on, please? I’ll love you forever.”

“Blake doesn’t need your love,” Matty said without turning his head. “And he’s gonna be too busy having phone sex with his secret girlfriend to pick up your shit.”

“We don’t even know if she lives in LA,” Dev shouted from the bathroom.

“Not important,” Taylor said, shaking his head. “What’s important is that I need those pies, man. Blake, you’ve gotta come through for me.”

“Why do you want Blake’s meat so bad?” Dev said, walking down the hall with a toothbrush in his hand, his mouth all foamy.

Before Taylor could respond, Matty turned to me. “Blake, does your secret girlfriend live in LA?”

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