Page 94 of Icing Hearts

I keep tutoring. Some days it’s looking the hardest thing I’ve ever done in the eye. Staring down the barrel of a missed opportunity. In all likelihood, Tory feels the same way. But every Tuesday and Thursday, we both show up. We do the work. His grades improve. I tell myself it’s because I need the money. On a subconscious level, I know it’s because I need him in my life in some capacity.

“So, how are you doing?”

Jack sits across from me at our favorite juice bar downtown. We feel fancy when we come here in business casual clothes and leave his old Honda CRV parked around the corner. I swirl my cup of cold-pressed juice. Despite it being the beginning of February, I got a drink with fall vibes. Carrot, pumpkin, apple, Cinnamon. Jack got the Sweetheart Special—a banana, dark chocolate, raspberry, peanut butter smoothie with whipped cream and multi-shade pink sprinkles. It’s more sugar than health, but it makes him happy.

“Great,” I lie. “Vince and I just celebrated our one-month anniversary.”

“You…celebrated?”

“Well, no. It was more like, ‘hey, we’ve been dating a month,’ high five in the hallway kinda thing.”

“Hm. Nice. Things are going well, then?”

“Swell.”

I know what he’s going to ask about next. I’m ready for it. He’s learned how to ease me into difficult conversations. Start in the shallow end and slowly wade deeper. We’ve been people watching outside the large front window of the juice bar for fifteen minutes.

“How are you really doing?”

“Fine.”

“Has Tory said anything more about wanting to be with you?”

“Yeah. Last week he basically said it’s not over and he’s not going to stop fighting. I got the feeling he’ll bide his time.”

“Interesting. You’ve certainly tamed the player.”

“Not quite.”

“And then you dropped him.”

“You know I had to.”

Jack came over when my dad was on shift for the last three weekends. Helping me clean and put my room back together. Do you know how hard it is to get minuscule glass fragments out of carpet? Nearly impossible. Jack knows now. So do I. He even brought me around to six different thrift stores finding picture frames to replace the broken ones.

The chief came over early once. Jack knew everything but played it off like he didn’t. He was respectful and sociable, but I saw the fire burning in his eyes brighter than his orange hair. He wants to kill the chief, too. Regardless, my dad trusts him now, and I basically have free rein to hang out with Jack whenever I want. So I do.

“What are you gonna do?”

“Survive, Jack. This is about survival. I don’t have the luxury of going to my other parent’s house or escaping to my grandparents. I have no other family and no money. I’m stuck. I just need to keep my head down, get perfect grades and get a full-ride to college in a year.”

“You can live with my family. I’ll talk to my parents. I know they’d be okay with it, Clara.”

“I can’t do that, Jack. I’d still see him around town. He’d lie about me to your parents and make me look crazy. Trashing my room was psychological abuse. I won’t push him further.”

“This is horrible, Clara. I don’t know what to do. I want to help.”

“I’m gonna tell you the same thing I told Tory. I don’t need rescuing. I’ve got this under control.”

“As the victim in this situation, I don’t think that’s possible. What if he hurts you, Clara? These guys always escalate. He could hit you or something.”

I don’t tell Jack that he already has. Many times. “He won’t. I’m positive. You have to trust me.”

“I certainly don’t. But I can’t force you. Just know I’m here for you no matter what.”

“I know, Jacky. It’s really okay. I’m basically always with you or Vince or at hockey.”

“Just promise me you’ll tell me if something happens, okay?”

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