Burn Before Reading(32)

Fitz mimed fainting like an 18th-century dame, and I suddenly felt sick. Was that the rumor that'd been going around? Holy shit - was that what it really looked like to an observer? I definitely, under no circumstance, could look at Wolf again. Not even at his hand, or over his shoulder, or a single flyaway hair of his. Nothing. Ever again.

I tried to bury my heated face in my book-shield, but Fitz pulled a chair up to the table and slammed a few heavy books of his own down.

“What are you doing?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“We had a deal,” He said lightly. “I’d tutor you, if you apologized to Wolf. And you did. Sort of. Not really. But it’s the thought that counts. Let's start with the War of the Roses, shall we? That's what the upcoming quiz is on."

"I don't want -"

"You do," He insisted, eyes sparkling. "You want a good grade. I know that you, more than anyone in this goddamn school, wants good grades. So c'mon. Sit up. Let's refresh that naive-yet-clever little brain of yours."

Inwardly, some part of me cheered. This was exactly what I wanted. This is exactly what I needed if I wanted Mr. Blackthorn to keep my scholarship up. But the victory still felt a little hollow. It was just an act, after all. We weren’t really becoming friends. It was just for the scholarship.

"I can't - I can't pay you. I've got nothing to pay you with and I don't want your charity."

"Yes, I'm aware you hate charity," Fitz exhaled. "If you really are stuck on paying me back, just think of this like a raincheck. You owe me in the future, alright? Just a little favor, or an errand, and we'll be even."

I wrinkled my nose. I was pretending to struggle in that class, but would owing Fitz really be worth it? I shook my head. Of course it would be. I was already doing pretty well with Burn - getting to know him slowly. And now that Fitz was willing to tutor me, I was two-thirds of the way there! All that's left was -

Wolf.

But that would never happen. I'd sunk that ship so far down they might as well have started calling it the Titanic. Burn and Fitz would be enough. They had to be.

I never expected Fitz to be a good teacher, but he was. Despite the fact he slept through all of the class, he knew everything we'd covered, top to bottom. His teaching was easy to understand, and he even managed to make it fun. I couldn't keep myself from smiling and laughing at the history jokes he'd make. The hardest part of it all was remembering to play stupid - to not immediately give him the right answer. He drew stick figures to represent all the royalty I had to memorize, and I called them ugly. He then drew a stick figure of himself, which he claimed was his most beautiful work yet. We got sidetracked, and he drew Burn - huge and sleepy-eyed - and then Wolf, with his perpetually angry face and sharp eyebrows.

"And this is you," Fitz announced. He drew a stick figure with the long ponytail I usually wore and an armful of books.

"That's way too many books!" I protested. "I look like I'm about to fall over!"

"No, no, that's Wolf," He corrected. "Trying to push you over with telekinesis."

"Ah, so that's the Blackthorn secret. You're all supernatural telekinetics."

"And vampires," He said. "Huge, godly, vegetarian vampires who sparkle in the sunlight constantly."

"Just like a disco ball."

"That's us; three massive disco balls," He agreed. "With great hair and no modesty."

I laughed, but it was cut off by my phone buzzing. Dad. I made a motion for Fitz to wait as I walked away and picked up.

"Hey, Dad! Is everything okay?"

"Why do you always ask that?" He sighed. "Just a 'hello' would be fine."

My throat squeezed. "Right. Sorry. Hello. Any plans for dinner yet? I could stop and pick us up some pad thai or something if you don't feel like cooking."

"I can cook, Beatrix." His voice got cross. "I'm capable of cooking, alright?"

It was happening. That spiral where nothing I could say would help was just beginning. If I let it go on too long, he'd get more and more irritated, until he snapped. And then, after he snapped, he'd feel so terrible about it he wouldn't get out of bed for days. I had to cut it off here, at the head.

"Okay!" I forced my voice to be cheery. "That's great! I'm just at the library, but I'll head home now."

Dad quieted, and then; "What are you doing there? Reading?"

"Studying. With a -" I looked over at Fitz, who waved a few fingers at me and smiled with all his freckles. " - a classmate."

"Oh, that's good. Are you two friends?"

"I'm not sure - it's still too early to tell."

"It shouldn't be too hard to figure out, Bee. It's so easy to make friends at your age."

I swallowed the urge to correct him. I didn't want to start an argument.

"Yeah. Well, I'll be home soon, okay?"

"Okay. Drive safe."

He hung up, and so did I. I stared at the blank screen of the phone for a moment, resting my arms on the glass rail of the balcony. Today had clearly been a bad day for him. Part of me wanted to go home as soon as I could, to make sure he was alright. The other part of me, the selfish part, didn't want to go home at all.