Page 1 of Teaching Cayden

Prologue

Cayden- age 17

Growing up as the youngest in the Sutter family has been both a blessing and a curse. Most of the time, things come easy to me because of who my family is. My dad works with my Uncle Nick as the assistant coach for the UNCW Seahawks. Uncle Nick has always been all about football, and my dad was more ‘all about the ladies’. My brother Aaron followed in their footsteps of being a player until he met his ‘now girlfriend’, Melinda. They’ve been together for a while, and I’m sure he’ll marry her someday. My cousins, Emma and Ryan, have all met their better halves, but me… not so much. I’ve tried, god I’ve tried so hard, but I’m not them. I don’t want a girl who sees me as a ticket into my family. I want a girl who sees me, Cayden, and appreciates what I can bring to the relationship.

I guess part of my problem is, I’m smart. I don’t mean I get good grades, I mean, I’m considered gifted. I graduated high school a year early, and I’m taking summer classes at Wilmington to earn credit toward my degree. My brother thinks I’m crazy, but I’ve always pushed myself to excel. My lack of a social life helps, I guess. Guys my age aren’t interested in what I’m interested in, so I never had many friends. I spent my weekends studying. I’m planning to major in physics, and we’ll see where it goes. Science has always been my thing, but now I think I’ve met my match. I’m taking a calculus class this summer that has been kicking my butt since I started, and midterms are around the corner. If I don’t get at least a B, I’ll be taking it over in the fall, and studying hasn’t been going well.

“I’m heading to the library to study,” I called over my shoulder as I grabbed my backpack and headed out the front door.

“Do you want me to save you some dinner?” my mom, Avery, called from down the hall. She’s been able to cut back on her hours at her flower shop lately and spend more time at home. It hasn’t really benefited me though because I’m at school all the time.

“Nah!” I called back. “I’ll just grab something on campus.” Before she could suggest that I call my dad while I’m up there to eat with him, I rushed outside. The summer air was hot and sticky, one of the downfalls of living on the beach, but it’s nice having the ocean as your backyard. I slipped my sunglasses on before tossing my backpack in the passenger side of my car, and sliding in. It was a hot day, and I rolled down the windows to keep from suffocating from the heat until the AC kicked in.

When I reached campus, I parked in a visitor lot, and made my way to the physics library. It was quieter than the main library, and I figured once fall rolled around I’d be spending most of my time there. It made sense that I learned my way around.

I haven’t made many friends here yet which I think might be the reason I haven’t been doing well. I don’t have anyone to study with and tell me when I’m wrong. I’ve been hoping to connect with some of the kids in my class, but I don’t think they’re interested. I’m the youngest in there by far, and I stick out like a sore thumb. Not only am I younger, but I look like it too. Unfortunately, I was a late bloomer growing up. My brother, Aaron, teased me relentlessly about it. I can barely grow facial hair now, and I have a baby face. My mom tells me when I’m old like her I’ll appreciate it. I don’t know about that. I feel like Doogie Houser here some days.

I weaved through the tables and chairs on the fourth floor of Byrd Library to the small section in the back corner. I found this spot by accident one day and know for a fact that I won’t be bothered. Very few students come up here, and most don’t venture to this hidden area.

After commandeering a table near the window, I pulled my calculus book along with my notes out. I sat down and prepared for what felt like the thousandth time of looking over these same equations. The numbers and symbols began to blur together as the day turned from afternoon to evening, and I began to wonder if something was wrong with me. Why wasn’t I getting this? My mom texted a few times asking me how it was going, and Aaron asked if I wanted to hang out with him and Mel tonight. I all but hurled my phone across the quiet room in frustration. Why couldn’t they just understand that I was trying not to lose my mind over derivatives and integrals?

“Excuse me,” a soft voice sounded beside me, causing me to stop and look up. A set of bright green eyes stared back at me framed by dark lashes. Her hair was pulled up under a Wilmington baseball cap with a few strands escaping around her face. She was holding a stack of books and shifted them in her arms, causing the loose t-shirt she was wearing to slip down her shoulder.

“Yes,” my voice cracked as I stared at her. Embarrassment flooded me as I thought about how I was showing my inexperience and age like a lit up sign at the moment.

“You’re in my spot.” She eyed the table I was using and annoyance washed over her face. “This is where I work every night.”

“I’m sorry.” I started to gather my things, but then changed my mind. “We can share.” I slid my papers over, giving her half the table. “I’m Cayden.”

“Great.” She sighed.

“And you are?” I turned in my chair to watch her unceremoniously plop down in the chair beside me.

“Busy,” she muttered as she flipped open a book that was filled with equations. I peeked over her shoulder to see if I could figure out what she was working on, but even I didn’t understand what I was looking at. She had to be taking a higher-level math or science course, and I sighed when I thought about what was coming my way in the future. Maybe physics wasn’t what I was meant to do.

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I went back to staring at the practice problem I’d been trying to crack for the last half hour. I didn’t even realize I was talking to myself until she elbowed me.

“Do you need help?” She turned and tossed her pen down on her notebook. “You’ve been talking to yourself since I sat down, and it doesn’t seem like you’re getting anywhere.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just not getting this, and I don’t know why. Math’s never been hard for me.” I raked my hands through my hair in frustration.

“Freshman?” She chuckled. “You freshman always think college will be easy because high school was.”

“I’m not a freshman,” I mumbled as I closed my eyes. I debated whether I should tell her that I’d be a freshman in the fall, or let her believe I was older, but she didn’t give me the time to decide.

“Let me see the problem.” She reached for my notebook and slid it closer in front of her, brushing against my arm in the process. “You’re thinking too hard.” She laughed lightly. “You just need to group these variables over here, and then multiply this exponent with this coefficient, and then solve by isolating this part.” Her hand moved effortlessly across my paper as she drew lines and circled letters that I’d erased multiple times. Her brow scrunched together as she explained problem after problem, making me seem like a fool for not understanding. I didn’t get it. Why was it so much easier to understand her, than my professor and how did she do this?

“Wow.” I sat back and looked at the last problem she’d gone through. “I feel terrible. I took all your time, and you didn’t get any work done.”

“It’s ok.” She blew out a breath. “Teaching seems to be my thing. I’m good at explaining things.”

“Do you tutor?” I rummaged through my backpack for my phone. I’d put it away when Aaron wouldn’t stop messaging me. If I could get this girl’s name and number, then maybe she could help me pass this class.

“No,” she murmured as she began packing up her things. She stacked her books and lifted them into her arms as she stood to leave.

“Wait!” My arm shot out to stop her. “Let me at least buy you a coffee or something to say thanks.” I was grasping at straws at this point, but something inside me told me this girl was important.

“Can’t. I’ve got to go. See ya around, Freshman.” She smiled as she rushed off, leaving me half sitting half standing, and completely stunned.

I didn’t know it at the time, but this mystery girl was going to haunt me for two years. Everywhere I’d go on campus, I’d look for her. Every class I took, I checked to see if she was there. Every time I ate in the student union, I looked to see if I could find her at a table, and I still sit at the table in the back corner of the fourth floor of Byrd Library every day to study, hoping that she’ll come tell me to move out of her spot.

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