Page 37 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Perry snatches away his hand and ducks his head. I turn and beam up at Jasper. “Waiting for you, silly.” I point at the empty space opposite us. “I want to talk to you about something.”

Jasper growls out something that could have been a curse—was definitely a curse—but he sits anyway, wincing the last inch of the way as if he can’t bear the thought of spending breakfast with me.

“So talk,” he says, taking a noisy sip from his cup without making eye contact.

“I need a student to tutor. Do you know anyone that needs help?”

Jasper frowns at me, and then moves that look to Perry. “No,” he says. “Ask the teachers.”

“Oh, right!” I snap my fingers and point at him. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”

Because I don’t want to teach just any kid. Jasper doesn’t like me, but he seems bright enough. I want to show Father Gabriel I can do this so I’ll aim for some low hanging fruit first. Plus, if I can get him to stop treating me like shit while I’m still his roommate, it would make my life that much easier.

Two birds, one stone.

Jasper scrapes his spoon through his oatmeal for a few seconds. I slurp at my coffee and take a bite of my toast, happy to shut up and wait.

I don’t think he’s going to go for it, when he suddenly asks, “Will it get me out of swimming practice?”

“Will what?” I ask through a mouthful of toast. I know I’m pushing it, but I need him to think this is his idea.

“Extra classes.”

“What, for you? You need extra classes?”

“You said you need practice.”

“I do.” I drop my toast and dust my hands. “Yeah, I guess I could do a few with you. Just while I figure things out. What do you need help with? Is it math? I could def?—”

“English,” Jasper cuts in.

I nod, frowning a little. “Okay. Let’s do it.” I hold out my fist.

He stares at it until I put it back in my lap. “See you at three,” he says.

I salute him with my mug of coffee.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how it’s done.

I don’t risk pissing off Jasper by joining him at lunch. Instead, I sit off to one side and munch on a slightly soggy cheese and tomato sandwich while I steal glimpses at the rows of boys. Sister Miriam pops in on our meals as randomly as if she’s doing a spot check. The boys seem to have developed a sixth sense around it. Seconds before the dining room doors or kitchen doors swing open, the entire hall hushes.

As soon as Miriam’s walked up and down a few times, she leaves. Seconds later, noise levels return to normal.

Maybe Icanget the hang of this place. It can’t be that hard—not if all these boys manage to coexist.

I don’t have Psych today, and that suits me fine. If I did, I’d probably sprain my ankle on the way to Zachary’s class and arrive late…again. Heaven knows what penance he’ll assign me.

Is he the kind of teacher that would go old school and draw me over his knee? I don’t think that shit’s allowed anymore, but Jasper didn’t look like he was kidding about getting lashes.

I head to my room just before three. I don’t want Jasper to wait for me in case he loses his nerve and bails on our first lesson. Honestly, I’m a bit nervous. I paid close attention today in each of my classes, trying to figure out if there was anything specific I needed to do if I was going to start teaching. But nothing really jumped out at me, so I’m going into this blind.

“Not here,” Jasper says as soon as he steps into the room.

“Oh, okay.” I stand up, my notebook and math textbook pressed to my chest. “Then where?—?”

“Library.” He flicks his fingers, and I follow him.

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