Page 54 of The Wallflower

"I was thinking something about the Civil War."

Well. I blink. "I mean...if you were in an American history class, that might work, but not so much for European history." I smile to try to soften the critique.

He shrugs, then flashes me a smile. His teeth are straight and white in his perfectly tanned face. "I have a question, and it’s a bit off subject, so I apologize, but why do you do this, Bel? You're like at the top of the class, right? Tutoring people can’t be fun. What do you get out of this?"

"Learning is always fun, and I enjoy it. Plus, it helps me pay for school, and I consider that a win. If you have any friends who need help, send them my way. I still have some openings."

He nods, accepting my response. "What about Napoleon?"

I latch onto that. "Perfect, a central figure in European history. Let’s do it."

We settle into a discussion about the Napoleonic Wars, and I'm surprised he's at least showing an interest. The last time we reviewed material, it was like pulling teeth to get him to talk. I set him up to outline, and I read over some of the textbook while he works. The silence buffers the world all around me, making it easier to think. To some, silence is terrifying, but that's because they fail to enjoy the peace and tranquility that comes with it. To be comfortable in complete silence would mean you would be comfortable facing all your demons, and acknowledging yourself and the choices you make. In silence, you’re incapable of hiding from your own true self. Which is why some of the grief and despair over my mother shifts away. I know it'll return eventually as it always does, but for now, I allow myself to sink deep into the quiet.

Stewart reads quietly, and I zone out after I finish reading the sections on Napoleon twice over. Once he finishes the short outline, he slides the paper over to me for review. I smile, accepting the paper. His handwriting is little more than a scribble, but I’m pretty adept at reading chicken scratch bynow. A lot of the jocks don’t really focus their attention on penmanship.

I skim the page and nod in approval. “This is a great start.”

Leaning in, he subtly slides his arm over the back of my chair. "What about this part?" He points at the bottom section. I nod again, moving my shoulder to put a little distance between us. He smells clean like soap, but I don't want him touching me. Not only because at any moment I know Drew will pop up and bare his claws but also because I’m not really attracted to him.

"It's good. This should give you a well-reasoned essay. Once you finish, you can send it to me for review."

"I'll wait until tomorrow to work on this since I have a shift at the carnival when it opens this evening. Are you going, Bel?"

It takes a moment for me to process his question. "Oh yeah, the carnival. I think I'm going to skip it this year. I want to stay home and spend some time on booking some more clients, prep for next week, and of course I have my own homework that needs to get done."

I grab a pen out of my bun and scribble across the notebook. "Did you want to schedule another time to meet?"

"Yeah, actually, I was thinking we could discuss tonight when you come to the carnival as my date." He winks at me.

I start writing before I think about what he’s said, then I pause and nearly choke on my tongue. "Your what?”

"My date. You can meet me there if it would make you feel more comfortable. We can hang out, ride a few rides, play some games. I dominate at Skee Ball by the way."

His matter-of-fact statement causes a laugh to slip out of me. It’s been so long since I laughed that I don’t recognize the sound. "I have to admit, I'm not great at carnival games."

He grins at me. "Can’t get good at something if you never try it. Plus, it would be a nice change since you’re the one usually teaching me.”

I stare at him, only a little shocked by his straightforwardness. He did ask me on a date previously, so it’s not really surprising. Then I realize he's waiting for an answer.Shit.Responsibly, I know I should go home after I get done for the day because my mom will need me, but at the same time, the thought of returning home makes me depressed. I’m either tutoring, sleeping, or helping my mom. I can’t recall the last time I did something for myself.

“Come on, Bel. Don’t overthink it. When was the last time you did something for you? I see you tutoring all the time, but I never see you anywhere else?”

Is it that painfully obvious that I’m a hermit crab? Indecision weighs on me. Drew could be there, but we aren’t together. We’re barely friends. Without a label, I’m technically allowed to go on a date if I want to.

"Yeah, you’re right. What time should I meet you?"

"How does five sound?"

I nod, tucking my chin so he can't see me blushing. He's cute, and he's always been nice to me. There’s really no reason I shouldn't go with him. He doesn't loom over my shoulder, grab me, or hunt me down. Maybe I'm ready for a normal relationship.

Or maybe a little piece of you wants to make Drew jealous?

As soon as the thought pops into my head, I can’t forget it. Messing with Drew is dangerous, but he’s already told me how he felt and where we stand. Maybe this is the push he needs, or maybe this is what I need to prove to him that he’s not in control of me. At least not completely. Or hell, in a last-ditch effort, Stewart is captain of the basketball team. Maybe Drew will leave me alone if he sees I’m interested in someone else.

The idea is sound, but the thought of never talking to Drew again makes me feel a bit queasy.Why? I hate him...right?Stewart packs away his belongings, and I wave him off. The room is still quiet, and I relax into the chair with a deep breath.

I have several more clients lined up for the morning, but nothing for the afternoon. The carnival is cutting into my afternoon client base. It's fine, though. I use this small lull to head over to the vending machine. I found some change in my car and use it to buy a packet of S’more Pop-Tarts to eat while I wait for my next appointment.

My next appointment is with Gracie, a girl from my geometry class. She has her dark brown hair pulled tight into a high ponytail. She’s wearing leggings and an Oakmount Elite sweatshirt. She looks like your average college student, minus a face full of makeup.

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