You Asked for Perfect(16)

“Don’t you want to finish the problem?”

“In a second.” I stand and grab both of our cups. My pulse skips, staccato. Calm down, Ariel. Focus on something else. His cup has the Deathly Hallows symbol on it. “So you’re a big Harry Potter fan, yeah?” I ask him.

“I am,” Amir says. “Still waiting on my Hogwarts letter.”

“I bet they don’t have calculus at Hogwarts.”

“They don’t, but I’ve heard Arithmancy is difficult.”

My laugh disorients me. It’s as if my mind is functioning in two separate spaces. I push toward the good space. “You’re a bit of a nerd, aren’t you?”

Amir grins. “Little bit.”

I turn back, then open the fridge and inhale the cold air. I can do this.

What if I can’t do this?

I blink, eyes blurring. I have the distinct urge to break into tears. Stop it. Refocus. I slip out my phone and scan my messages. There’s one from Sook: What time are you coming over?

I don’t respond yet because I have no clue when we’ll be done.

“You see it?” Amir asks. “It’s on the top shelf.”

I shove my phone back into my pocket. “Yeah, thanks.” I pour our teas and head back to the table. “What time are your parents coming home again?”

“We have plenty of time. I don’t think the first act is even over.”

I nod, twisting my fingers together. “What’s the play about?”

“A children’s adaptation of Cyrano de Bergerac. It was pretty funny.”

“Oh, I liked that play.” My fingers lock together, squeeze. “I’m not loving Crime and Punishment. Are you in Mrs. Rainer’s class?”

“I am,” Amir says, but he doesn’t seem interested in more conversation. “C’mon, let’s get back to work. We were doing well.”

Hah. We really weren’t.

I pick up my pencil. The eraser is half-gnawed off.

“Okay,” Amir says, “So you were about to take the constant out and—”

“Isn’t Mr. Eller the worst teacher?” I ask.

“He’s all right. Scattered. So we take out the constant and—”

“I had no problem with calculus last year, but this guy can’t teach to save his pension. Good thing he doesn’t have to. It’s ridiculous. I wish they could get rid of him. Sticking us with this guy at the end of school is such bullshit.”

“I guess so. Okay—”

“And he doesn’t even—”

“Ariel, stop procrastinating.”

His tone is relaxed, but my whole body tenses. He can’t see me falter. No one can. I swallow hard, then say, “I’m not procrastinating. I wanted to talk. Sorry. Didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You aren’t bothering me. I like talking with you.” He pauses. “But you came to me for help, and I want to make sure you get it. If you’re still having trouble with the material, we can go back to the beginning.” His tone is warm, but I don’t feel comforted.

“I don’t think this is working out.” I close my notebook.

“Wait, what?”

“I don’t need this.”

My heart pounds fast as I stuff my things into my bag.

“You don’t need what?” Amir asks. I stand, and so does he. “You’re leaving? Ariel, why?”

“This isn’t working for me. I’ll be better off studying on my own. Thanks for trying.”

“I don’t understand what just happened. Sit down. We’ll try again.”

“No thanks. This was a mistake.”

I slip my bag over my shoulder and walk toward the door. If I stay any longer, he’ll see what’s happening. He’ll see I don’t understand. I’m not smart enough. I’m an imposter. If I’m going to lose everything I’ve worked for, at least I don’t have to do it in front of an audience.

“Ariel—” he says again.

But the slamming door cuts off his voice.





Five


The neighborhood rushes by as my feet smack the pavement. Sweat pours down the back of my neck. My breath comes sharp and fast, while Keith Moon pummels drums for “Who Are You.”

My legs ache. My lungs constrict.

I push harder, bearing down, increasing my run to almost a sprint. Wind rushes through my hair. My body floods with endorphins.

Then revolts.

My stomach lurches as I round the corner to my street. I stop short and fling out an arm to brace myself against a tree. I tense, then bend over and dry-heave. But I must have stopped in time because nothing comes up.

I lean against the tree, breathing hard. The song switches to “Happy Jack,” and I click down the volume. School starts in less than an hour. I need to get back home, eat breakfast, and try to cram in a bit of extra studying before Sook picks me up. It’s like I lost a day trying to study with Amir. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. The pressure built too fast, and I turned on the one person who could help me out of this situation.

My stomach lurches for a different reason.

I take a deep breath, then turn the music back up and keep running.

*