Mister Weir spent the greater part of the class interrogating me, one tedious question after the other. Some are strictly word problems, some are more equations straight out of the textbook. Some don't appear in the textbook at all. I had psyched myself out for so many years, though now it's clear that I had been living in my own head. Maintaining a higher average would have saved me from having to go through this awkward mathematics interrogation. There are plenty of A-average students that no one looks at twice. With one stupid slip-up, everyone will now think I'm either a freak or a fraud.
When the class ended, Mister Weir asked me to take out the pages from my notebook with the completed equations and let him review them again. I did as he requested, gather my things, and rush out before anyone can say anything else to me. I don't know what he plans on doing with the pages, but I should probably learn to escape this constant state of paranoia I've hid myself in for all these years.
When the school day was finally over, I had walked out of the school quickly and let the cool, soothing air outside wash over my anxiety. How many more months until graduation, until I can close this chapter of my life for good?
My meeting with Will at the nearby Starbucks went by super quickly. He gave me information on more papers to write, we had coffee, and I headed home. Though I did think I saw Jay drive by in his blue car, but maybe that was more unnecessary paranoia. Or wishful thinking. Either way, the car was gone in a second, and my attention had diverted back to Will.
***
As the evening evolves into night, I spend the time in the kitchen, a disgruntled mess, writing one paper after the next like I'm being chased by the concept of time itself. Furiously and desperately. As I rush through each topic, I also keep the earnings from every paper in my mind, calculate this week's expenses, and determine exactly how much I'll need for the rest of the month. With senior projects coming up, maybe I can start creating entire projects with presentations for people, and charge ten times more.
"Veeee, when is dinner?" Matty asks as he runs into the kitchen.
"In an hour. I still have to finish some stuff here. Did you finish all your homework?"
"Yep. Oh, I forgot to tell you, Josh is coming over for dinner too. He'll be here in like two seconds. Dad said I can invite him."
"But it's a weeknight," I respond, my voice a little more whiny than I had intended.
Matty gives a quick shrug, "You can ask dad if you don't believe me."
"I believe you, buddy. But he can't stay late. Eight-pm the latest, you got it?"
"Yeah, okay!" Matty replies, then runs out. I wish I had that energy, to run everywhere like every single thing is filled with great importance and excitement.
I start gathering up all my work from the kitchen table, wondering what I might make for dinner. Did I go grocery shopping? Or will it be another frozen food night? Remembering that we don't have enough money to order for delivery tonight, I'll have to make due with whatever we have in the refrigerator.
I'm about to head upstairs to my room to set down my stuff, when Matty rushes towards me again, "Veronica, there's someone at the door for you."
It's probably a salesperson, or someone doing a survey. Annoyed, I head to the front door slowly, my feet feeling heavier with each step. Though when I catch the face of the visitor, the heaviness seems to knock me forward and I stumble slightly. What is Jay doing here? I narrow my eyes at him with suspicion, push him forward, step outside, and shut the door behind me. "What do you want? How'd you know where I live?"
"I was dropping off Josh. He's my cousin, remember?"
"And you've done that, so you can go now. Please be back at eight to pick him up."
"Can we talk?"
"There's nothing to talk about." I cross my arms across my chest and divert my eyes from his. I will not allow him to captivate me with his stare. For reasons beyond my comprehension, my heart and soul seem to find themselves in a state of absolute chaos whenever Jay's in my line of vision. Wishful thinking, anger, a twist of logic. "You should go back to pretending like I don't exist. You did a great job of it in Cranston's office earlier."
"What did you expect? You ignored me for two weeks."
"I had stuff going on. I meant to tell you about it, but then you decided to act like I wasn't even there today." I feel like I'm sounding like a pouty five-year-old. Maybe it's now better if we're no longer friends at all. Not even acquaintances. Just some random students who were forced to study together for a couple of months. Okay, seriously? Stop going back and forth, Veronica. If I change my mind about him one more time I'll probably suffer from emotional whiplash.
He moves closer to me, but I keep my eyes focused elsewhere - on the ground, to the side, anywhere else. "Did that bother you? And here I thought you stopped giving a shit completely."
"Yeah, it bothered me. You bother me."
"Am I bothering you right now?"
I move my face away fully and turn towards the door, because I'm sure I'm turning tomato red. I will not give him the satisfaction of knowing he makes me blush. "Goddammit Jay, can't you just go back to being the annoying, arrogant tutor guy you were before? At least then I knew how to respond to you."
"You hated me then, so why would I do that? Anyways, the other reason I wanted to see you is because I have something for you," he replies, skipping over the whole part where he might be offended at what I had just said. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a book. He then hands it to me, "You said it was your birthday two weeks ago. I was going to get you War and Peace since you're going around quoting a book you've apparently never heard of. But that's like over a thousand pages, so I wanted to get you something close-ish. This is perfect."
The book is 1984. I've read it about ten times, mostly to remind myself that the future of our society is a depressing void of force and regret. Certain that I must have three copies, I can't bring myself to tell him I own it already. I can't remember the last time anyone outside of my family gave me a birthday gift, and I don't want to ruin the moment. Dumbfounded, and embarrassed of insulting him a moment ago, I mumble through my words, "Oh . . . wow I. . . thank you."
"You're welcome." His voice is soft and almost unsure.
Neither of us speak for a while, and as always I can't quite interpret the silence. Sometimes I wish superpowers existed outside of the fictional world - I'd want the power to read minds. "Right, well, I guess I'll go inside now. Thanks again. . . for the gift. I'll see you at school."
"Speaking of school, why'd you come back?"
"I missed these fun little interactions, of you grilling me with pointless questions."
"Did you really?"
I let my eyes fall on his, belayed and flushed, "No. Maybe. I don't know."
"You really are cute when you're nervous."
Flustered and fully aware that he's now close enough for me to see the small, subtle reflections in the blue of his eyes, I move back swiftly, "I have to go! I have to make dinner."
I was able to recite the entire periodic table when I was six. I can simplify the most convoluted algebraic equations. I can translate the Selected Works by Cicero back to its original Latin, then to Farsi, then back to English. And yet I can't control my own feelings when it comes to Jay. Why can't I figure it out? What's wrong with me?
The door behind me swings open without my help, revealing my mother. She glances at Jay with polite curiosity, then offers a warm smile, "You must be Josh's cousin, Jay, right? Would you like to join us for dinner?"
I jump in as fast as possible,"No! He was just leaving-"
"I'd love to," Jay cuts me off, a hint of a smile on his lips, his eyes still focused on me. He then faces my mom, "Thank you for the invite."
"You're very welcome. It's wonderful to meet you. Please come in." My mother opens the door wider and motions for him to enter our house. She then walks through the hallway and rounds the corner into the living room, and I can hear her asking Matty and Josh to stop eating the candy that Josh had brought, that they'd spoil their appetite.
Jay steps forward and is about to walk through the entrance when I place a hand on his chest, stopping him. "You can't stay."
"But your mom invited me."
I don't know if I'm ready to have him, or anyone from Apollo, walk into my life like this. It's a threshold that I can't imagine being crossed. I don't want anyone knowing the darkened layers of my life I've worked so hard to conceal - the physical, undeniable truth about my family, our financial struggle and the reality I can't even accept myself. "And now I'm uninviting you."