Page 2 of Private Tutoring
I used the tail of my T-shirt to dry my face, doing my best to control the hiccupping brought on by my savage tears. I told her everything. “I’m failing Math and Italian. If I don’t get my grades up, I’m going to lose my scholarship. Mom can’t pay forthis, Delilah. She can’t. I’ll be forced to leave, and I’ll never sing on stage.”
Delilah sank onto the love seat, set her water on the small, round side table, and put an arm over my shoulders. “Okay. That’s intense. But we’ll figure something out.”
I almost shook my head and let the despair whisk me away. I’d told Mrs. Collins that I would figure it out. But right now, I wanted to bitch and moan about the unfairness of it all. Why did I need Math and Italian, anyway? I scrubbed both hands over my face and drew a shuddering breath.
“Mrs. Collins suggested tutoring.”
Delilah handed me the water, and I chugged it, emptying the bottle in seconds.
My best friend considered me. “Yeah, I mean, that’s an option. Any idea who you can ask?”
“No. Even if I find somebody, how will I pay them? It’s not like my scholarship offers anything like that. The only thing I’m good at is singing.” The icy water did wonders for my scratchy throat. I rubbed it gently. I had a class tomorrow with Professor Bellington. My theater professor would not consider crying a valid excuse for being unable to sing.
He was kind and considerate to everyone in class, but I didn’t know how far that kindness might stretch if I showed up too stuffed up to practice.
Leighona walked out of the study, caught sight of us, and crossed her arms. “What’s going on?” Tall and willowy, with long, red hair and snapping green eyes, Leighona owned the stage every time she walked out. As her understudy, we’d had a cautious but decent friendship. Since Leighona had seniority over me, and the perfectly rich voice for Cosette, I had no hopes of getting a chance to play the part I coveted with my entire being.
One chance. I just needed that one chance for someone to see me, to see my talent and whisk me away to stardom.
Was that too much to ask?
“Nothing.” Delilah stroked my shoulder. “PMS.”
I startled at the lie, and Delilah squeezed my arm in clear warning.
Leighona snickered, rolling her eyes. “Whatever. Per sorority house rules, as my little sister, I recommend a long, hot bath, plenty of Midol, and a nap. There are heating pads in the hall closet. Chocolate is in the kitchen.”
“Thanks.” My chin quivered as another bout of tears surged.
Leighona gave me a concerned look. “Do you need to go to the doctor? My ob-gyn is great.”
“I’m good.” I sniffled and tried to stop crying. “I’ll be fine.”
Delilah leaned in close enough to whisper in my ear. “Don’t tell her about any of this. She’ll use it to her advantage.”
“Why did you convince me to pledge to this house, knowing I’d be working with her?” I’d wondered for a while but never asked. Delilah had been adamant that we pledge here.
It wasn’t until after it was over and we’d been accepted that Leighona and I realized we were both theater majors and would be competing against each other for lead roles.
Delilah stood, pulling me up with her. “Because this is the best sorority house, and Leighona is a year ahead of you. Work with her, and you’re guaranteed to get the best role your senior year. Let her do her thing, be her friend, then you can reap the rewards of that friendship while also gathering your own following.”
It sounded so cold, so clinical and calculating, that I side-eyed Delilah. Where did all that come from?
“Remember why you’re here.” Full smile in place, Delilah walked me to the kitchen. She dug the bag of chocolate from the drawer beside the refrigerator and slid it over the counter whereI’d sank onto the white bar stool and cupped my hands on either side of my face.
The kitchen was the least used space in the entire house. Most of us ate our meals in the cafeteria or in town with friends. Cooking options were limited unless we did one of our rare grocery hauls to fill the cabinets.
Most of my sorority sisters had the palate of a toddler. Fruit snacks and crackers lined the shelves, along with cases and cases of drinks. The pristine white and chrome kitchen gave us peace and quiet.
“I have to figure this out, Del. Mom can never know about any of this. She’d be devastated. And she’d try to pick up a third job.” I couldn’t allow that.
Delilah opened the refrigerator with a huff of air and dragged two bottles of my favorite flavored water from the depths. “You bet your ass we’re figuring this out. I’m not losing my best friend.”
She sat across from me and smiled. “You’re a badass on that stage, Harmony. No one is going to stand in your way.”
Courage infused my spine. I lifted the water and clanked it against the matching bottle she held out. “Damn right.”
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