Coloring Outside the Lines

Chapter Eight

Chapter 8

"Seriously, Jack. Concentrate. This is easy, I swear on my life," I say for about the millionth time today.

"Did I not already tell you that I hate math?" Jack asks, putting his face in his hands.

"Did I not already tell you that I don't care?" I ask, using the same tone he used.

Jack groans and slams his hands down on the desk. He grabs his pencil and proceeds to circle A,B,C, then D, A, B... So on so forth... For the rest of his assignment.

"Very mature," I say, sighing.

"Really, though. I'm done with this. I don't get it, I-"

"Maybe if you listened when I tried to teach you-"

"-am a retarded goldfish, I hate-"

"-then you might succeed in life, at some point-"

"-everything and I don't give a crap if I fail my math class."

"-and you should care because if you fail you'll have to come back here for summer school and get kicked off the basketball team."

Jack throws me a look and I raise my eyebrows. "It's true."

"Fine," Jack replies after a while. "But I hope you know that I think this is a waste of time. I could be napping, accomplishing at least something."

"You will understand this. And you will get at least a C on your finals. Because that would mean that I'm a super awesome tutor," I say, mostly for myself.

"You are," Jack says. I look at him in surprise. "I mean, it's not your fault you got some idiotic, aggressively attractive, basketball star, who is still, yet, very lazy in the classroom."

"True statement."

"This is where you're supposed to assure me I am wrong, that I am not a failure," Jack says.

"I promised my mother, once, that I would not tell a lie."

************************************

I try to bundle myself and hide from the cold in the jacket and scarf I am wearing. I watch as the lights turn red and begin walking across the street.

Suddenly I feel arms wrap around my waist and lift me up. I scream and thrash and look down and find Ray laughing at me.

"Could you not have waited until I was out of the road?" I yell down to him, trying to ignore the angry honking behind us. "Put me down!"

Ray runs across the street, still holding me, and enters the bookstore.

"I come, bearing a slightly angry Jordan!" Ray announces to the shop, which is completely empty except for Sheryl who is sitting at the counter.

I am set down and I wipe off my jeans. I try to glare at Ray. Note the word: try. Yes, I do burst out laughing. Why, oh why, does Ray always have to put me in a good mood, especially when I'm purposely trying to be angry?

"Hello, Jordan. Hello, Ray. Nice to see you here again," Sheryl says.

"You too, Sheryl," Ray says. Then he has a concerned look on his face. "Is it inappropriate to call you Sheryl? Should I call you ma'am or something?"

Sheryl lets out a short laugh. "Sheryl's fine, thanks. Unless you prefer to call me Swagalicious Mexican Lizard. That's good too."

"That's what I call her," I inform Ray.

"Sure thing, Swaggy Mexi-lizard," Ray says.

Sheryl and I both laugh, unable to contain it anymore.