Page 9 of Shy Girls Can't Date Rockstars
“I know,” Ryder cuts her off, his voice tight.
“Do you?” Miranda’s tone is pointed. “Because that stumble at the beginning could have cost you everything. You know how these things work. One mistake and they’ll move on to the next act.”
I watch Ryder’s shoulders tense, and his hands grip his silverware a little too hard.
“It won’t happen again,” he says, fighting the shame written across his face.
“I know it won’t, because we’re going to make sure you’re prepared.” Miranda turns her attention to me, her expression softening. “Actually, Alice, this works out perfectly. I wanted to talk to you about something.”
My stomach drops. Oh gosh, what is it? What could she be expecting of me?
“As I mentioned, your academic record is exceptional,” Miranda continues smoothly. “And Ryder, well, he’s brilliant with music but struggles with some of his coursework. The label wants him to maintain certain grades and not jeopardise his graduation. The head of the label is very insistent about this. Ashworth opens a lot of doors.”
Ryder shifts uncomfortably but doesn’t argue.
“I was thinking,” Miranda says, shifting in her seat like she’s going to suggest something fun, like a picnic, “it might be beneficial for both of you if Alice helped with some tutoring. Ryder, you need to keep your grades up while focusing on the band. And Alice, this curriculum is probably a cakewalk for you. You’d be helping Ryder graduate, which will help his career, which ultimately helps all of us.” She smiles. “Don’t you think that makes sense?”
The way she phrases it makes my head spin.
“I... I don’t know,” I stammer. “I just got here, and I’m still trying to…”
“Of course, and I completely understand,” Miranda interrupts gently. “You’ve been through so much. But sometimes the best way to heal is to focus on helping others, don’t you think? Your parents were such giving people, even before they started their catering business. I’m sure they’d be proud to see you carrying on that spirit of service.”
I tense in place at another mention of my parents. Why does she keep doing that? She deliberately didn’t speak to them for twelve years. What is she trying to prove?
“I don’t need a tutor,” Ryder says, his voice flat.
Miranda’s smile doesn’t waver, but her eyes harden slightly as she looks at him. “Ryder, darling, we’ve been over this. Your chemistry grade is unacceptable, you basically slept throughyour last calculus exam, and you’re barely passing English. If you fail either course, you won’t graduate. And if you don’t graduate...” She lets the threat hang in the air.
“The label will drop me,” Ryder finishes bitterly.
“Exactly.” Miranda turns back to me, all warmth and understanding again. “See, Alice? You’d really be helping. And it’s not like it would take much of your time. Maybe an hour or two a day? You’re so bright, I’m sure you could catch Ryder up in no time. Plus, it’ll give the two of you a chance to bond before school starts. You’ll already know someone on your first day.”
She makes it sound so reasonable. Kind, even.
“I guess... I mean, if it would help...” I fumble for words.
“Wonderful!” Miranda claps her hands together delicately. “I knew you’d understand. You’re such a thoughtful girl, Alice.”
Ryder says nothing, just stares at his plate with a muscle ticking in his jaw.
“You can start tomorrow,” Miranda continues, as if it’s all settled. “Ryder has practice in the morning, but perhaps after lunch? That gives you time to settle in. How does that sound?”
I feel as though I’ve been swept up in a current I can’t control. “Okay.”
“Perfect.” Miranda beams at me, then turns her attention to Ryder. “Now, tell me more about practice. Is the setlist finalized for the showcase?”
As Ryder responds, his voice careful and measured, I push food around my plate and try to figure out what just happened.
I’m tutoring someone?
I’m not exactly in the right frame of mind. I don’t even know how I’ll do my own schoolwork. My whole world has changed. I don’t even know if my new classes will be working on the same material as my last ones.
But Miranda makes it sound like I’d be selfish or ungrateful if I didn’t help. My gaze lifts to watch Ryder. How much does hefactor into my new life? Is it financially beneficial to make sure he succeeds? Does his career fund Miranda’s living expenses and, therefore, mine?
The dining room suddenly feels smaller, and the dark paintings on the walls press in. I force down a bite of salmon, and it tastes like ash.
“Alice?” Miranda’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “You’re being awfully quiet, dear. Is everything all right?”
