Page 19 of Embrace

The guys snicker behind me. “You sure you’re not just trying to convince yourself?”

I chuck my wet towel at Seb. He groans, holds it like it’s radioactive, then lobs it into the hamper. It feels good to be a senior. It’s a leg up from having to collect the nasty jock straps whenever I’d piss off Kilner.

“Save me some wings from Porter’s,” I call before pulling my bag onto my shoulder and heading out. I connect my music to my car, and “Everywhere” by Fleetwood Mac plays through the speakers as I drive to the library for tutoring.

When I spotted Scarlett in the dining hall the other day, I knew I had to do something. I’ve been told grand gestures are reserved for special moments, but that’s not my philosophy.

If you can go big,alwaysgo big.

And it paid off—I finally have a tutor and I’m one step closer to graduation.

In the library, she’s right where I expected, headphones on and no glasses. She’s wearing an oversize, pale yellow sweater. The weather is colder than a week ago, but the library is warm. I just got off the ice, and I’m burning up. I ignore the instinct to ask if she’s feeling okay, or if I should find the thermostat.

“Hey, freckles,” I say, taking a seat right beside her and dropping my textbook next to hers.

Scarlett jumps, then quickly folds the paper she was writing on. I’m only able to make out a “Deer Dad” at the top before she shoves it between the pages of her textbook.

“I’d rather not relive the days of middle school bullies with that nickname,” she says, pulling out her headphones. I feel bad instantly.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” I drop my hand over hers on the table. “I meant it as a compliment. They look like stars. My mom has them too.”

She’s looking at me now, head tilted in a careful assessment. My heart thumps against my rib cage like it’s found somewhere better to be. I ignore it.

“Did you bring your syllabus?” she asks.

I pull out my things. I came extra prepared, so she would see how serious I am about this. “I have this problem set due at the end of the week.”

She reads over it. “Yup, descriptive statistics, measurement, and data visualization.”

Those words make my eyes droop closed. “What?”

“That’s the first problem set. They made us do something similar in my stats class. Basically making sure you have the building blocks before it goes into computing.”

“Right.” I scratch the back of my neck. I’m so screwed.

“Don’t panic,” Scarlett says, placing her hand over mine. It’s the first time she’s touched me. Her hand is so much smaller and softer. “Seriously, you’ll do great.”

“How do you know that?”

“I don’t.” She laughs when I give her a blank stare. “But I do know you’re determined. You’re a hockey player. Athletes don’t give up easily.”

“How many athletes do you know? You seem to have a good grasp of our motivations,” I tease.

Scarlett retracts her hand. “None. I don’t keep up with athletes.”

“You knew who I was,” I say, grinning.

“Everyone knows you.” She turns back to my syllabus. “So, we’ll start with your textbook readings. I usually go through them three times to get a good grasp.”

“Three? Like the same thing three separate times?”

She nods, her gaze narrowing as if she wants me to challenge her. I don’t. “Concept first, formula second. Trust me.”

I spend the next hour reading one chapter three times. It’s long, with a lot of numbers tossed around and words I don’t have thefaintest clue about, but I do it anyway. On my second read, my stomach rumbles, so I pull out a mandarin. I slide one half over to her, and it just sits there until I nudge her.

And somehow, just like she said, by the third time I’ve got the text down. Some of the definitions I don’t even have to read.

Without warning, she yanks my textbook away from me.