Page 35 of Out of Bounds
Between my three classes, I see Daddy and Nelson. Nelson hasn’t puked anymore, which is great, but he’s lethargic and sad.I called the family doctor, who told me to give him sugary drinks and nothing else until his stomach settles, so he must be sugar crashingandstarving. My heart literally aches seeing him like this. He’s my smiling, happy, cheeky baby, notsad.
The part of my major organ that isn’t breaking is beating hard for my daddy because there must be many,manyother jobs he could be and should be doing today, but instead he’s pushing a poorly baby in a stroller around my campus, probably getting more funny looks than I do these days, and that’s going some.
By the time I sit down outside my tutor’s office, I’m wired and frantically searching my brain for any project idea, when I remember that I haven’t messaged Tanner yet to cancel our lesson tomorrow.
Me
Nice hen dance in the end zone yesterday, Tanner Pace. Clearly your time spent studying how they move paid off.
His reply is immediate, even though he should be in training or reviewing tape of last night’s game.
Tanner
I still smelled like their feces when I scored that touchdown.
Remarkably, my lips tip up, which in turn makes my eyes well,again. It turns out kindness is my kryptonite. His next message comes before I have a chance to reply.
Tanner
How’s Nelson? And how’re you doing, Annie Quinn?
The door to my tutor’s office opens and another student comes out looking a lot happier than I feel about my appointment.
Me
He hasn’t thrown up so far today. I guess Colton told you? I’m messaging to say you shouldn’t come to the ranch tomorrow. Better safe than sorry.
Tanner
How are you?
I take a long breath in and sigh it out.
Me
I’m just fine, Tanner Pace. Thanks for asking.
There are dots like he’s typing when my tutor appears, calling me.
Professor Banks, in complete contrast to me, looks smart and clean and smells of a fine scent. Her hair is rolled back into a bun and she has perfectly painted lips.
“Take a seat, Annie,” she says, gesturing to the chair opposite her own at her immaculately clear desk. “It’s lovely to see you.”
This is nothing like how my own office would look if I were an academic. My small desk at home is cluttered with Post-it notes, all colors of gel pens, opened books, scrunched-up doodled paper, or neatly stacked paper with coffee mug stains on top of it. Even the shelves of old books in this office are perfectly lined in height order.
“How are you?”
“Great,” I say with a forced smile, hoping my drooping eyelids and the grey rings under them don’t give away that I’m so out of my depth this year already and the semester has barely begun.
She considers me with pursed lips then smiles. “Okay, why don’t you give me your top three suggestions for a project and we can chat about them?”
For a second, I wonder whether I’ve caught Nelson’s bug because I’m suddenly nauseous. My phone vibrates against the ring binder on my lap and I don’t want to look but it could be Daddy messaging about Nelson, so I subtly glance at it.
Tanner
I might not have a psychology major but I have sat through hours of sports therapy, so you’re not fooling me, Annie.
“Annie?” Professor Banks asks.
