Breakthrough or .....

The rest of the week goes by with us having tutoring sessions in my room at the end of every day. What surprises me most is how receptive he is to the tutoring because the Ryan I knew never liked studying one bit. Our interactions at school are still stiff, but now we at least text—well, it’s mostly him texting me every night to let me know he got home safely after our sessions, and me pretending like I don’t care while secretly kicking my legs and smiling like an idiot whenever I receive them.

Friday comes too quickly, and as usual, Dad drives me to school. The fact that they haven’t resumed their teasing since the first day of tutoring is baffling to me, but I’m not about to complain since their teasing can be really embarrassing.

I walk into school and realize people are crowded around the notice board. Curious, I go to see what’s so interesting and realize they’ve posted the football season schedule. Of course, SHIH is going against their arch enemies, Wolf Peak High School. The committee that organizes these matches seems to revel in this rivalry because they always intentionally pit them against each other.

I leave the football enthusiasts to it and head to my locker to pick up the books I’ll need for class. The telltale sound of footsteps behind me has me turning around to see my own personal version of chaos moving toward me as though she’s gliding.

“Hey.”

“Hey. How’s our patient doing?”

“Oh, please, not you too,” she says with a groan, making me laugh out loud because it’s quite rare to see something that actually frustrates the almighty Cecily.

“You can’t blame us. You haven’t been in school for over two days.”

“It was nothing. I just needed an IV drip and I was right as rain. My parents just decided to keep me home an extra day so they could monitor me.”

“Okay then. I missed you, twinnie,” I say as I link my arm through hers.

“Missed you too, baby.”

We move toward our class and coincidentally meet Ryan and his gang as they’re also entering. He looks down at our linked arms, and for just a second, his face seems to darken. But when I look again to make sure, his expression has already smoothed out.

The rest of the day passes like that.

When I get home, I receive a text from Ryan telling me he’ll be late, so I just shoot him a thumbs-up. He finally shows up at 8 p.m. for our tutoring session, which I understand since the football roster is out and they probably need to train even harder.

What I don’t understand, however, is why he’s being so unreceptive to my teaching today. These past few days have gone so smoothly that I’d almost forgotten what Ryan had become.

“What is wrong with you?” I finally snap after repeating the same thing three times and him still not seeming to get it.

“Nothing. Let’s continue,” he says with a shrug like it’s no big deal.

“It’s nothing to you because you aren’t the one talking until your throat is raw. So either tell me what the problem is or we cancel for the day. I’m tired too, and I really don’t want to keep talking to a stone wall.”

“You seem to have fun talking just fine,” he says with a smirk after my little speech, and that condescending tone of his makes me see red.

I immediately get up and start gathering the books we’ve been using when he suddenly reaches out and catches my arm.

“What?” I snap, looking down at the hand wrapped around mine.

“Do you like Cecily?” he blurts out so quickly that the words mash together into one.

“Who?”

“Cecily. Your desk mate,” he says while looking down, still holding my hand.

I simmer down a little and retake my seat.

“No. I don’t. Ceci is my best friend,” I say, and his grip tightens just slightly at the words best friend.

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. So what the hell is this about?” I ask again, shooting a pointed glance at the hand still holding mine.

“Nothing,” he mutters, finally letting go.

“You couldn’t possibly be jealous, right?” I ask, and the way his shoulders tense gives me all the answer I need.

Instead of excitement, though, a bolt of pain shoots through my heart.

“You do realize you lost the right to be jealous a few months ago, right?” I say quietly.

“I ain’t. Don’t flatter yourself,” he says, but the fact that he can’t even look at me shows just how little he believes his own words.

“Good. Then let’s continue—or would you rather talk about my relationship with Ceci some more? Hmm?”

“Continue,” he mutters.

The rest of the session goes smoothly, but there’s an underlying tension that makes the atmosphere feel heavy.

“Our next session will be entirely up to you. Pick a date and let me know,” I say as we finish up.

“Why?” he asks.

“Because your football roster is out, and I’m pretty sure you knuckleheads will need to adjust your training schedule,” I reply, rolling my eyes because it’s pretty obvious what I mean.

“Not knuckleheads heads, atleast not all of us anyway but yea I got you. Okay then. Good night,” he says as he swings his bag over his shoulder and stands up.

“Good night.”

He moves toward the door and pauses for a moment as though he wants to say something, but then he seems to think better of it and rushes downstairs instead.

Later, as I reflect on it, I realize that for the first time since we drifted apart, we actually touched on the landmine between us.

At the beginning of these tutoring sessions, we were just pretending to be two strangers forced together by circumstance. But now, it feels like we’re finally starting to break through some of the ice between us—if his questions about Ceci are anything to go by.

The thought makes me smile like an idiot and kick my legs in excitement.

Maybe this is the breakthrough we needed after all.