Page 41 of Over the Edge

“Good thing you’re too old to be one of my students.” She takes a drag. “Who was it?”

“Lana.” Her name is sour on my tongue.

“Shit,” she spits.

“Yeah.” There’s something nice about being able to say her name and people knowing. Sometimes I hate the reactions, the pity that melts people’s eyes like I’m still twelve and sitting alone on a park bench doing my homework.

Pat’s good with it, though. She knows shitty things are just that. Shitty.

“Why’d you bring the girl back?” Pat asks, pointedly changing to what apparently has become everyone’s new favorite subject.

“It’s not a date.” I might have to tattoo it on my forehead at this point.

“Didn’t say it was.”

“It was an apology,” I explain. “We had a bit of a misunderstanding.”

“All cleared up?”

“Maybe. It was over the alarms I put on my phone for when I’m done with tasks,” I say. It’s a technique I’ve had since I was a kid, so Pat is familiar with it. I couldn’t control much, but I could choose how to use my time.

“No one wants to feel like a task, just so you know,” Pat says. “A bit dehumanizing. But maybe if she knows why, it’ll help in the long run.”

“Fuck,” I groan. How are we going to get through two weeks if I’m failing after one day?

“People have never been your thing, kid. Doesn’t mean you can’t learn. Let’s get inside before they come and hunt us down.”

After trivia, Evelyn helps put up chairs and clean up spills. All the while she talks to everyone. Her laughs break throughthe music and have other people looking at her with endearing smiles. I think about how she should have been the one from here, not me. She fits in a way I’ve never been able to, never allowed myself to.

It’s past midnight when we leave. Evelyn leans with her head resting on her hand as we cruise. Despite the light nipping breeze, there’s a glowing warmth in my chest and she might be the culprit.

“Tonight was fun, the trivia questions made me feel like an idiot. But still, it was a good time,” she says as I pull to a stop in front of her house.

“You accept my apology then?”

“You’re missing the key part where you apologize. If you need a refresher a good place to start is with ‘I’m sorry.’” Her expression grows expectant.

“I am sorry, Eve. I never wanted to make you feel like you were something to check off a to-do list. I am sorry for that,” I tell her. I try not to look away as my face heats with embarrassment.

“Honestly, I overreacted a little. I was having a pretty good time, and I thought you were too, so thinking you just wanted to get rid of me pissed me off.”

Here goes nothing. “If it’s okay with you, I’m going to keep the alarms though, but I’ll explain why, if you want.”

“If it’s because you’re secretly a spy and need to check in with your handler I will take it as an acceptable excuse.”

“As fun as that sounds, I doubt I’d be able to tell you if that were true. It’s just that I like structure and to know what’s going on and when. Putting on timers and alerts makes certain I never lose track of that,” I explain.

As I was first introduced to a stable schedule, I clung to it. It was something I could control. It’s part of the reason I liked boarding school so much. I knew where I needed to be andwhen. I knew the meal schedule and that the food would always be there.

“Is there a reason you’re insistent on me having an action-packed double life?” I'm okay with explaining, but I’m not sure if I want to open myself to more questions.

“It's lonely being the only one, and it’s a waste to let your looks not be used for espionage and debauchery. You even have the car for it!” she says then reaches over to slap the dash. “And just so we’re clear, you like the calendar invites for the same reason?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll make sure not to forget them. But I’m going to use my time to the fullest and make you have a little fun.” She throws me a wink. “I’m going to get a real smile out of you, Larson, even if it kills us both.”

15

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