Page 13 of Gingers Can Do Maths

My eyes flick back to the robot necklace and my already galloping heart races faster.

There’s no way Sin wore the necklace because she knew she’d see me after three whole years.

The tutors hadn’t been assigned until this morning, and I made sure my name didn’t appear next to Sin’s until ten minutes before our session started. That aside, her journey from Hortace was no less than forty minutes.

So did that mean she always wore it? Hidden beneath her clothes and close to her heart where my gem eyes could always watch it beat?

Did that mean that she still thought of me consciously, outside of her dreams?

I gaze at the bakery bag. She didn't know I was her tutor and yet she brought my favourites. She’d wanted to feed me like she’d always done in the past, silently knowing that my own family would never cook meals for me or even with me.

I don’t know if I should be thrilled that I still affect her food choices, or furious that she’d try to give my favourites to some other man as if I were replaceable.

Recreatable.

Is that what she thought? She could reimagine our maths sessions with someone else?

Then again, what if she had known it was me beforehand? Would she have cancelled? Asked for another partner? Not that she can. I made sure of it. She either spends all of her time on Bradley’s campus with me or not at all because there’s no way I’ll let her get out of her next promise. Presley University.

We may have had a misstep with Ennox, but we still have four to six years of university ahead of us.Together. Because despite our three-year separation, I have zero plans to break my promise. And I won’t let her break it either.

All those firsts? Still mine.

All those nexts? Still mine.

All those lasts?Still fucking mine.

She’s mine.My Sin.

If you confess your sins does your awareness make them any better?

Maybe I’d confess that I implemented Bradley’s tutoring partnership with Hortace.

Maybe I’d admit to pushing the fliers all around Hortace’s campus. In every single classroom that Sin attended. In her school’s email box, no less than twenty times over. Even in her folders and textbooks, hidden amongst the stacks of papers she keeps clustered on her bedside table. The white-washed antique one close to the little balcony that’s nestled beside some strong-ass latticework.

Snap!

I peel my eyes off Sin’s nipples and look at her wrist that’s covered in dark maroon marks from the elastic band she keeps snapping onto it.

Snap!

I blink, coming back to reality with each pop.

Fuck.The digital clock on my computer tells me that our session’s nearly over. How had two hours gone by that quickly? It feels like I’ve just set eyes on her.

“Why are you doing that?”

It takes her a second to look away from the equation she’s been fighting with for ten minutes. Even then she barely spares me a glance before she’s gazing at the screen again. “W-what?”

Her lower lip is red and swollen from where she’s been biting it for so long in concentration. Unlike me, she’s actually paying attention to the work.

I gesture to the rubber band around her wrist that’s about to rip from all the tension she’s putting on it.

“When the equation gets too hard, I tend to drift and lose focus. Suddenly all I can think about is the tick of the second hand whether I can hear it or not.” For emphasis, she glances at the clock above my head. “Or how dark the ink of the equation is. Or how dull my pencil is and how I need to sharpen it. Then I think about the shavings that are building up in the reservoir and I worry that I’m sharpening the pencil so much, soon there won’t be space for new shavings. Then what will I do? Empty the reservoir into my pocket? Then I think about the laundry—”

“Roisin.”

“The little shavings getting stuck to everything else.”

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