Page 17 of The Design of Goodbye
He cleared his throat. “Because they can go wherever they want.”
“It would be kind of cool to fly,” I mused. “Wouldn’t it?”
“Yeah, it would,” he agreed. “What about you?”
“A chameleon.”
He looked right at me. I instantly averted my gaze because, in the few seconds we’d made eye contact, it’d felt like he saw right.
Through.
Me.
“Interesting,” he said. “One of us wants to fly, and the other wants to hide.”
He was relaxed now. Exactly how I wanted him. If Jules was a patient person, I’d wait a few weeks, really try to get to know him, build a little trust. But I didn’t know how much time Jules was going to give me, so I had to act quickly.
“Did you have to make up all the homework you missed?”
“What?” His hand—which was splattered with black-and-white paint—stilled on the packet.
“Didn’t you miss the end of junior year?”
“Yes,” he said, shoulders tense. “But that’s not important.”
I hated I’d caused him to put his walls back up, but it had to be done. “So, did you make up your homework?”
He rubbed his palm over his jeans. “No.”
“The school let you pass all your classes?” I asked. “How’d you get away with that?”
He turned on his calculator and started pressing buttons like he was working on a secret problem. “They used the grades I had.”
“Did you have to take your finals?”
“No.”
“Lucky.”
I immediately regretted my response as sadness took hold of him. Sadness was incessant like that, showing up when least expected. All it took was a single word. A single memory. And sadness’s strong claws dug and ripped through skin, drawing blood. Draining its captive empty. Sadness never, ever wanted to let go. When sadness had its hold on me, I was powerless. And given Liam’s expression, so was he.
“Let’s get started on your first assignment,” he said, “which is on quadratic functions.”
“Quadratic what?”
His gaze flickered to me and then back to the packet he’d grabbed. “Can you get your textbook on your tablet? I think we should review quadratic functions first. Then you can work on your assignment. I’ll review it when you’re done.”
“But why did you miss—”
“I think you’re trying to procrastinate,” he said. “Let’s get started.”
* * *
Liam smelled like mint. Whenever he leaned over to help me, I got a whiff of minty sweetness. He kind of smelled like Christmas.
He was reviewing my assignment now, and I took this opportunity to really study him. His eyelashes were enviously long, and he had a sprinkling of freckles on his nose and cheeks. His hair, while disheveled, looked incredibly soft and—
It hit me like a bolt of lightning, and I catapulted back in my chair.
