Page 3 of Break Me

I’m the kind of person who loves a very packed schedule.

I thrive on a challenge.

So, I take more classes than I should. I somehow wound up as the social chair for my sorority, even though Inevereven thought I would like the sorority in the first place. And I tutor athletes, too.

I don’t drink much or go out much. If I am going to succeed, I can’t be waking up wasted every morning.

I need to be alert.

Alive.

So, I restrain myself while my friends go out and get drunk and hook up with each other.

I like my life this way. It’s routine. It’s productive.

Sure, I get tired sometimes.

But when I look back on my college career, I’m going to remember that everything I did led me to be the amazing dermatologist that I will be one day.

You don’t get to be the best without working like the best.

And the best are not the ones who are hanging their heads over toilets and trying not to throw up on a weekday morning.

I check the time and see that it’s quarter to nine.

I’m due for a new tutoring student, so I need to make the short walk over to the tutoring center.

It’s funny. For someone who tutors athletes, I know shockingly little about sports. My friends always try to get me to tell them who I tutor, but I’m sworn to secrecy.

There are a lot of rules for athletes’ tutors. I can’t tell anyone who I tutor. I can’t date my students. And I can only meet with them in the tutoring center.

I know a lot of tutors break these rules, but not me.

I’m kind of a stickler for rules. Plus, this job pays well and looks amazing on my resume. I’m not about to lose it just so my friends can know who I meet on a regular basis.

When I walk into the tutoring center, I show my ID to the reception desk.

He waves me through.

On the second floor, I have a favorite table that I like to use for my sessions. It’s away from the windows, so there are minimal distractions, and it is pretty close to the coffee maker. The table is in a small room with glass walls, so we have privacy, but nottoo muchprivacy.

I’m told that my student’s name is Rayn.

Rayn is kind of a funny name. That’s what I thought when I first heard it. It didn’t ring a bell, but I didn’t expect that it would.

I tap my pencil and review my notes.

I have a lot of work to do with this one. We’re going to work on Political Science, Computer Science, Chemistry, British Literature, and Sociology.

I debated whether I should start with the harder or easier classes first. Ultimately, I decided to tackle it assignment by assignment, rather than class by class. I just have to keep this kid from drowning.

We’re both sophomores and I have taken most of these classes recently, so that shouldn’t be too difficult.

I check the clock.

It’s 8:58.

I expect that he will be late. They arealwayslate. And they are always miserable, too.

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