Clearer (J.HALE)

12

"Think."

I glowered at the table and aggressively clicked my pen. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of directing my anger at him—it only made him more insufferable, as he went to great lengths to explain it to me in the most pretentious manner possible. I didn't want to end up throwing the textbook at his head.

"We went over this quite recently."

"I know," I snapped, eyebrows pulling together.

"Do you want a clue-

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Shut up, I'm thinking."

His chair creaked as he leaned back, lifting his arms from where they were laid on the table. I shoved the picture of him out of my mind—his forearms, exposed by rolled up sleeves—and homed in on the question, rifling through my brain for the answer. I definitely knew it. As annoying as it was, I'd learned more in the few weeks he'd been teaching me than I had in my last year of schooling. When he wasn't being a prick, he was quite a good teacher.

"Do you-

"Glycosidic!" I burst out, smacking my palm down on the table in triumph. "1,4 glycosidic bonds."

His face remained smooth by amusement sparked in his eyes. "Well done."

I collapsed back in my chair in fatigue and grinned, utterly delighted. I was wrapped in several blankets and my hair was piled up on top of my head in a splat of ginger curls, my eyes aching from staring at a book for so long, but I was victorious.

"I think it's time for a break, don't you?"

I nodded, letting out a yawn. My joints had started to ache and the bruises on my chest still panged every now and then, but the nausea had been the kicker. I hadn't been able to keep food down for longer than a few hours for the past four days, running purely on decaf coffee and smoothies. Jasper had grown used to my sudden springing up from my chair and barrelling for the bathroom, and no longer passed comment, and Aunt Meg had taken to keeping an old tin bucket on hand near the dinner table.

I stood up and trotted over to the sofa, flinging myself down onto the cushions. I buried my face in it, relishing in the cushy softness, and let out a small groan. I knew Jasper was shaking his head at me without even looking at him, but I didn't care.

"You need to eat something?"

"No." I blanched.

There were some shuffling sounds and a weight pressed down on the sofa by my feet. I lifted my head and peeked at him over my shoulder. He seemed pallid, a fraction less splendid than usual.

"Are you okay?"

He reacted like I'd slapped him. "What?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Mildly worrying that you don't understand simple English considering you're tutoring me."

He rolled his eyes but didn't answer.

I rolled onto my back and propped my head up with a cushion, smirking a little. "You need to eat something?"

He offered me an innocent smile. "Are you offering?"

The silence that followed was a little loaded.

"Seriously, though," I said, attempting to glide past it. "I don't know anything about your...culinary preferences. Like, if and when, and stuff."