Chapter 11: Questions

It's impossible not to think about Jake/Zach/him for the weekend. Honestly, it's impossible to keep my mind off of him for ten minutes straight. Why would he cover for me, especially after I was so angry at him the whole ride home? Why would he say that he'd see me next week- did he mean at school? Doesn't he usually drop the people he hangs out with the very day after he hangs out with them?

And then, if I keep thinking about him for long enough, all the questions about the things that happened while we were 'hanging out' start coming back too, in reverse chronological order: Did he really think I was going to sleep over at his place when I really don't know him at all? What was his problem with biology, and why would he lie about why he didn't take it if he wants to? Why was he looking at me like that, after Raymond finished the makeover? Why did he change his name when we met with Raymond? How did he manage to so calmly go from talking about my fear of his driving to how temporary human life is? Why did he care so much that I 'enjoyed myself' that he was willing to pay me a hundred dollars per hour (for an intended 18.5 hours)?

Which leads to the final, still unanswered question: What does he want from me?

I don't have any truly plausible explanations for any of these things by Monday. But I also don't want to start tracking him down to ask him questions, because then it'll become a habit. So once again, I attempt the now seemingly impossible task: to become indifferent to him and return to my life of ease and simplicity.

He doesn't seem to have any intention of letting me. He skips English, but as I exit the classroom I feel an arm settle around my shoulders, and he falls into step with me.

"Were you waiting for me outside of the English class?" I hiss at him.

"I was. How was your weekend?"

"Why are you talking to me? Don't you usually ignore the people that you hang out with after you've hung out with them?"

"I figured I should stay on at least talking terms with my new tutor."

So he did mean to imply that I'd be tutoring him again. "For how long?"

He stops walking, smoothly positioning himself so my back is against the nearest wall, and one of his arms is on either side. He searches my face for a moment, then asks (smirking), "Afraid I'm going to drop you?"

I scowl. "No. I want to know how long this is going to go on for and when I can get back to my normal life."

"You'd miss me."

"Wait- 'you'd'? As in 'you would'? As in, the hypothetical term 'would'?"

"If you're looking for an end date, I don't have one. Yes, I would assume that you aren't going to be 'tutoring' me for eternity, but since there is not a set termination date, yes, I'm using hypothetical terms. Don't get your hopes up, you won't have me around forever."

"So when does this end? 'When your grades come up'?" I ask sarcastically.

He presses his lips together, examining my face again. I swallow uncomfortably. "You do realize that just because you tell your parents you'll be tutoring me, doesn't mean you have to. You can go out on Friday afternoons, enjoy living for what is probably the first time ever, in your case. Do your parents even let you have friends?"

I glare at him. "What would they say when I didn't come home with a hundred dollars per hour as payment from my very rich tutoring client?"

"Tell them there was a misunderstanding and that was a down payment for like, the month or something. It's not super complicated, like you seem to believe it is. You can be free, you can enjoy your life."

"I think I'd prefer to work hard now so I can enjoy my life in the future instead of being chained to a lifetime of endless work and financial issues because I decided to be irresponsible and 'enjoy living' as a teenager."

"Is that what your parents did?"

My eyes widen, and it feels like I've been slapped. "Don't you dare talk about my parents. Don't even think about it. And stop trying to- to corrupt me! My parents want the best for me. You just want to use me for one day and then throw me away and forget about me."

"Oh? Why would I do that?"

"Because that's what you do with everyone else! You think that just because you're rich, you can do whatever you want to whoever you want because you're special and have money and so nobody else even counts as a person to you-"

He cuts me off by holding a finger to my lips. He looks a little bored, or maybe annoyed. "I just gave you $650 last night when you were probably only doing the thing I was paying you to do for about three hours, generously. And I covered for you, with your parents. And, I gave you an opportunity to leave your house with your parents' permission- even approval- to do whatever you want. Or, since you seem to have some sort of problem with that, you could actually come to my house again and do either exactly what we did on Friday, or something else, either of which would land you another 6 hundred. So stop going off about what a horrible person I am. I've given you money, happiness, and freedom. What more do you want?"

I'm stunned speechless for a second, before the answer slips out (I don't even think about it. I don't even realize I'm speaking until I hear my voice). "A choice. And what do you want from me?"

He looks at me for a second, blinking. I'm basically just as stunned. Especially when I realize that the hallways are empty, and a moment later the late bell rings.

No. No, no, no. I've never been late, not without a very good reason, either from the school or my parents. I can't- not after last night- no, oh no, oh please, please no-

"We're skipping," he tells me factually, like this is not up for debate. My eyes widen.

"No, no, definitely not-" I duck under one of his arms and start towards the calculus classroom. Seconds later, his hand wraps around my arm and pulls me backwards. His grip is tight and much stronger than I'd expect he'd be capable of. "No, please, let me go! I need to get to class!"

I fight for a few seconds out of sheer panic before letting out a desperate whimper.

"Please. Please, I can't skip. I can't."

He turns me around and puts a hand under my chin, tilting my face up and examining it thoroughly in that way. I let him, praying that he lets me go to class. I can't skip. I just can't.

"Fear. Fascinating," he murmurs, before letting me go. I immediately stumble away from him, before bolting towards the calculus classroom. I don't know if I've ever run so fast in my life. By the time I get to the classroom, the door is closed and I have to knock. I look down, my face burning in shame. How could I forget to keep an eye on the time? How could I have let him stop me from getting to class on time?

The door opens, revealing a surprised Dr. Love.

"Do you have an excused late slip?"

I shake my head, still not daring to look up. Mentally, I'm kicking myself. Physically, I'm trembling. Dr. Love moves back to the front of the classroom, and I shuffle in, keeping my eyes on the ground until I get to my seat and sit, taking out all of my school supplies as quietly as I can and quickly scribbling down notes from the board despite the humiliation and shame of being late making me want to keep my eyes down forever.

There's an obnoxious rattling at the door- someone trying to open it- and then a loud and unrelentingly continuous knock. Dr. Love sighs and goes to open it, giving me a chance to catch up to the lecture in my notes. I'm interrupted, however, when the late student comes to stand next to my desk and rests his hand on the tabletop. I look up, and of course it's him, because who else would it be?

I wait for him to move on now that he's gotten my attention (and attracted the attention of the entire class, further humiliating me), but he doesn't.

Instead, he asks, "May I sit here?"

What did you think of the chapter? The millionaire continuing to talk to Todd (rather than disappearing on him entirely)? How about their little argument? And the millionaire trying to get Todd to skip? What did you think about him coming to class and asking to sit on Todd's desk? Let me know in the comments!

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