By the time it was a suitable hour to start getting ready for school, I'd finished the rest of my homework and drank a strong cup of coffee to keep myself awake. My nightmare kept haunting me as I showered and put on fresh makeup, then went to Maddie and Clare's room to wake them up.
"Come on, you two," I said, opening the door and gently prodding the two sleeping figures that were lying in the queen-sized bed. Clare rolled over and opened her eyes sleepily, her stick-straight brown hair mussed from tossing and turning like she did every night.
"Do I have to go to school?" she asked, rubbing her eyes with her fist. Beside her, Maddie stirred.
I knew that feeling all too well--every day, I woke up with the same exact thoughts. "Yes, you do," I said. I crossed the room and flicked on the lights. "Hurry up and get ready. I'll make waffles for breakfast, okay?"
That got my two little sisters up. I quickly helped Maddie get ready and then went down to the kitchen to start on the waffles.
Since my car was still being fixed (I didn't want to think of the bills involved), I decided that we'd all take the bus to school. Even though I knew Maddie hated it, there was no other option. I'd have to figure out how to get to my job and to Maddie and Clare's after-school care later.
I made waffles while half-asleep, the coffee having not kept me as awake as I would have liked. Still, by the time Maddie and Clare came padding down the stairs, I had plopped a Belgian waffle apiece on their plates and began setting the table.
"What are you eating?" asked Clare as I set down her plate in front of her.
I realized too late that I'd forgotten to make something for myself. "I'll just have yogurt," I told her, reaching into the fridge and taking out some vanilla Greek yogurt. It was healthier than waffles, anyway. "Go on and eat, or we'll be late for the bus."
"The bus?" complained Maddie, her dark eyes widening. She and Clare had gotten Mom's brown eyes, while I'd inherited Dad's bright blue ones. "I don't like the bus."
Reaching across the table, I hugged her and then shifted her plate of breakfast so that it was directly in front of her. "I know, but we have to take it. Our car's getting fixed. Eat up, okay? You can sit in my lap on the bus."
Maddie resentfully went back to her breakfast, her cheeks bulging as she stuffed waffles inside. I finished my yogurt and began getting their backpacks ready for the day, putting in snacks and making sure all their books were in order. Even if I was flunking all my classes, I was determined for my sisters to get good grades.
Fifteen minutes later, we had left the house and entered the light drizzle outside, beginning the ten-minute walk to the bus stop. Maddie's feet were dragging as she pulled her backpack on wheels behind her, her face set into a permanent pout, but Clare was hopping into puddles and squealing excitedly. I kept a firm grasp on my smallest sister's hand and led them through the neighborhood.
We'd made it about five minutes into our walk before a sleek convertible--with the top down, though I had no idea whose top would be down in weather like this--pulled up beside us. I squinted my eyes through the rain that was soaking my hair and saw Cameron inside.
"Need a ride?" he asked, sidling up to the curb so that we could all get inside.
I tucked my hair behind my ear as I surveyed the music booming and the expensive interior of the car. "No, thanks," I said, unsure how good Cameron's driving skills were. "We'll walk. We're almost there."
Shrugging, Cameron put his hands back on the wheel and slid away from the curb, the silver car's back just visible through the onslaught of rain. Beside me, Maddie was whining.
"Why couldn't we go in the car with him?" she asked, rubbing her eyes. Her bottom lip even seemed to be trembling. "He's nice. He helped clean up my milk last night. And--" She stifled an enormous yawn and added, "I don't like walking in the rain."
I stroked Maddie's stringy, soaking-wet hair and said, "We can't just get in the car with people we don't really know. Come on, we're almost there."
We were all drenched through by the time we reached the bus stop, but I figured anything was better than getting in that plush silver convertible with someone whose driving skills were probably subpar.
~*~*~
The bus trip dried out my hair a little, but it was frizzy by the time we arrived at school. I just pulled it into a sloppy sock bun and took Maddie's hand, walking her to the elementary school.
Our town was so small that the elementary, middle, and high school was all on the same campus, and the only school in the area was public. I figured that was why rich people like Cameron Maddox attended--faced with any other option, he probably would have gone to some exclusive prep school.
I had math first, and I surprised myself by pulling out the notes on conic sections Cameron had made for me and reading them as I walked. For some reason, I was determined not to fail this test. After all, I'd studied for it, and I'd been perfectly capable of getting good grades before everything had happened. What was stopping me now?
Of course, it would take a while before my F in math was brought up to a passing grade, and that didn't even account for my other five classes. I still didn't think I could find the time.
When I pulled out my neatly printed math homework and handed it to Mr. Roberts, my precalc teacher, at the beginning of class, he was completely taken aback. "Thank you for actually deciding to do your homework," he said, raising a pale yellow eyebrow as I blushed and hurried back to my seat. If my teachers knew half of my situation, they would think twice before they implied I was a slacker.
The rest of the class filed in slowly--I knew most of their names from freshman year, when I'd been a social butterfly, but I hadn't spoken to many of them in what felt like ages. Mr. Roberts started the class as soon as a tall, blonde-haired girl walked inside; she must have been new this year, because I didn't know who she was.
"As is written on your syllabus, you have a test on conic sections today," said Mr. Roberts, taking a thick stack of papers from his desk and tapping it on the table surface so that the edges of the pages lined up. "As long as you've paid attention in class and done your homework, you should be in good shape."
Or had a tutoring session with that miracle-worker named Cameron Maddox, I thought to myself, twirling my mechanical pencil between my fingers. I wondered if it was the same one I'd used last night while Cameron had been over.
Mr. Roberts was passing out papers face-down, handing them to the first person in the row, who passed them back. I took a stack of five sheets and took one before handing the rest to the girl behind me.
"You have thirty minutes," said Mr. Roberts when everyone had received their papers. "You may begin."
I quickly flipped over my test paper and scanned the first problem, adrenaline kicking in. This feeling of wanting to succeed on a test felt almost familiar--if I reached out for it I felt like I could almost grab it and identify it. Twirling my hair around my index finger, I thought back to what Cameron had said last night about graphing conic sections.
The center...that was (5, 2), right? And the graph was a hyperbola. I quickly sketched it out and checked my work before moving on to the second problem. A quick glance at the clock; I still had plenty of time.
I finished the problems on graphing and solving conic sections easily, simply picturing the detailed notes Cameron had outlined for me in his thin, slanted handwriting. By the time Mr. Roberts called out, "Ten minutes left, everyone!", I was already finished and was double-checking my work.
At this point during a test, I was usually writing down random numbers and trying to make my work look good, knowing I'd flunk it anyway. Right now, I was actually hoping for an A.
I went through my work twice and then stood up to hand my paper to Mr. Roberts. I was the first one finished.
"Already done, Evelyn?" he asked, skimming my answers with a surprised expression. I nodded and then went back to my seat in the front row, watching as he took out a red pen and immediately began grading--he was probably as curious about my score as I was.
Slowly but surely, the rest of the class turned in their papers--only one student didn't finish in the allotted time limit. Mr. Roberts took all of the papers and stacked them up, with mine at the top. Squinting, I saw that there was a grade on it, but I couldn't make out what it was. It looked like an eight from here...I'd be more than happy with a B.
"All right, then," he said, standing and uncapping a dry erase marker. "Let's get to work on our next section in our conic sections chapter. I'm going to teach you some formulas and some processes that will allow you to find things like the focii and directrix of a conic section."
A statement like that would have usually gone completely over my head, but after reading the textbook and completing my homework, I actually knew what was going on. I took out my math notebook, which was completely empty, and prepared to take notes.
After the lecture, it was time for class to be dismissed. I quickly began packing up my things along with the rest of the class, but before I could leave, Mr. Roberts called out, "Evelyn! I'd like to see you for a second, please."
I zipped up my backpack and slung it over my left shoulder before heading up to his desk. "Yes?" I asked.
My test was in front of Mr. Roberts, and the grade on top of it was written in red ink. A 98. "I'd like to know how you managed to make a 98 on your test when you've been making Fs in everything up to this point."
"Cameron," I said, fidgeting with the straps of my backpack nervously. "He tutored me last night and made me do my homework."
Again, one of Mr. Robert's eyebrows plucked upwards. "Well, please continue to do your homework. Clearly, you're smart when you decide to apply yourself." He handed me back my test and then said, "You're dismissed."
Tucking my hair behind my ear nervously, I stuffed my test into my backpack and then left the room. I had Spanish next. Even though I had a D in the class, I figured I might as well continue my act of being a good student. Sra. Olivera shot a surprised glance at me as I took out my notes and began copying down that night's homework, but I just cast her my most angellic smile and kept on writing.
~*~*~
School flew by--even biology, during which Ashley begged me for details about my tutoring session with Cameron. Before I knew it, it was three o'clock, and I was jogging over to the elementary school. It was still raining, and I thought longingly about my van and how I'd just drive to the carpool line if it weren't being fixed. I still had no idea how I'd get anywhere I needed to go this evening.
I was walking with the hood of my sweatshirt up when I saw Cameron walking towards me in his soccer gear. "Where are you off to?" he called, increasing his pace.
"Car broke down," I panted, squinting to see through the rain. "I have to walk to pick up Maddie and Clare, then get them to their daycare somehow and then walk to work..."
Cameron ran his hand through his soaking-wet hair, messing it up. "My offer to give you a ride still stands," he said.
For a few seconds, I thought longingly of Cameron's silver convertible (with the top up, of course!), and then of the alternative--walking through the rain with my two little sisters for miles. But I knew I couldn't accept his offer. Something inside me just wouldn't let me get in a car with a stranger. "Thanks," I said. "But I'm fine. You have soccer practice, anyway."
"Not until three forty-five," Cameron said. "Will you please let me do this for you? You can't walk out in that weather with your little sisters."
As if to prove his point, thunder cracked and a jagged streak of lightening illuminated the gloomy sky.
Miserably, I squeezed water out of my hair and said, "Fine. Whatever. Just drive slowly, okay?"
Cameron was smiling. "Of course I will, Evelyn. Wait here under the shade and I'll run and get my car."
Before I had time to open my mouth to protest again, he had jogged back out into the torrents of rain towards the parking lot. I crossed my arms and watched him disappear into the hazy fog--for some reason my mind wandered to my A on my math test, and suddenly, I couldn't wait to tell Cameron about my recent success.