Autumn's Wish (11 page)

Monday morning I have an email from Mrs. Foreman, my history teacher. She says she found a tutor for me and would like me to meet him in her office after school. I know Carrie and the rest of the Senior Social Committee won't like it because we're only a week away from the dance and are in the thick of shopping and planning and prepping. Even though she got me into the “sisterhood” for Get-Autumn-into-College purposes, I know she'll say tutoring isn't a good enough excuse to miss a meeting, at least not this week. Instead of trying to explain, I text her and say I have family stuff I got roped into, and I have to be at Century Acres after school with Eddy. She says it's fine, but I can hear her passive-aggressive guilt-trip voice and heavy sigh even through the text.

I bring a protein bar and Diet Coke in my backpack so I can hang in the library for lunch. It serves a double purpose. It keeps me away from Carrie so she can't try to convince me to blow off my plans, and it keeps me away from Sean. Most people are already thinking about next Friday's game and don't care anymore that I'm a football saboteur, but Reenzie keeps texting me giddy updates about how he can't even hear my name without punching something. So far it's been mainly pillows, and I'm pretty positive he'd never actually get violent with me, but better to give him another day to cool down.

When school ends, I wait until I'm sure the entire Senior Social Committee will be safely ensconced in their classroom before I zip down to Mrs. Foreman's office.

“Sorry I'm late!” I say as I race in. “I came as soon as I—”

Mrs. Foreman's office holds her desk, a massive library of books, and a couch with a low coffee table. The couch is right against the door side of the office, so I can't see who's sitting there laughing with Mrs. Foreman until he leans forward and turns at the sound of my voice.

It's J.J. And he's gaping at me like a fish out of water.

“Oh. Hi,” I say. “I'm sorry, I thought I was meeting my tutor here.”

“You are!” Mrs. Foreman chirps. “Autumn Falls…J.J. Austin.”

I purse my lips together. Some teachers at Aventura are really into knowing every detail about students' social lives. They seem to know even before us who's going to break up and who's getting together. I've heard some of them even run pools. Then there are the teachers like Mrs. Foreman, who believe students only exist inside their classrooms.

“We know each other,” I say.

“Oh good!” Mrs. Foreman says. “That's even better. And did you know that J.J. took my AP U.S. History class last year?”

Yes,
I could say.
I believe that may have come up in the middle of one of our make-out sessions when we were going out last year. Tough to be sure, though, with his tongue down my throat and all.

Instead I just smile. “Really? No, I didn't.”

“Indeed,” Mrs. Foreman says. “He was my top student and plans to major in the subject in college. I honestly can't think of a better person to hold your hand through this course.”

J.J. smiles grimly, and I almost laugh out loud. I'm pretty sure the last thing in the world J.J. wants to do is hold my hand through anything.

“I'll leave you to it, then,” she says. “I figure you'll use my office today; then you can figure out your own schedule from there. Don't forget, Autumn—our first test is next week. I expect great things now that you'll be tended to with such delicate skill.”

Mrs. Foreman floats out of the room on a cloud of self-satisfaction. The minute the door closes behind her, J.J. buries his face in his hands.

“Got any anagrams for ‘awkward'?” I ask.

“ ‘Skywalker…and woe,' ” he replies.

“ ‘Skywalker and woe'?” I say. “Really?”

J.J. shrugs. “Technically that's ‘so keenly awkward.' ”

“Yeah, okay. That works better. And points for the
Star Wars
reference. Jack would be proud.”

J.J. smiles weakly, and I lean on the arm of the couch. After a moment I ask, “Why didn't you tell me Mrs. Foreman wanted you to tutor me?”

“I didn't know. She just asked if I'd tutor one of her students. She's my main teacher recommendation, so I said yes.”

“She is?” I ask. “And you really want to major in history? I thought you wanted to major in English lit.”

J.J. looks me right in the eye. “Things change,” he says.

I can't hold his gaze. I look down at my chipping nail polish. “Right.”

Neither one of us says anything for a while. It's so bizarre. We're with each other almost every single day, but I can't even remember the last time we were alone together. Probably it was the day he broke up with me, almost a year ago. I can't even believe it's been that long. If you'd asked me then, I'd have sworn we'd be back to normal within a couple months—by last year's spring break at the latest. Instead we kind of found a new normal, and judging by the futures I've seen, we don't really find a way out of it. We stay friendly…but not super-close friends.

“You lied to Carrie,” he says.

I'm so caught up in my own thoughts I don't know what he means for a second, but then I remember my story about Eddy. “Yeah,” I admit. “I didn't think she'd approve of school over Senior Social Committee.”

“Good call,” he says. “I won't tell her.”

Another minute of complete silence. I'm just about to tell him this is crazy and we should tell Mrs. Foreman it won't work out when he says, “Okay, then. Let's get started.”

My test is on the American Revolution, and J.J. spends a half hour trying to drill facts and dates into my head. I'm concentrating hard, I really am, but the more he spouts, the more it all sounds like noise to me. Even when he writes everything down on notecards for me, the dates just blend together and dance and mix up on the page and in my head.

Finally he sighs heavily, and I feel terrible because I'm not getting any of this at all.

“I'm calling it,” he says. “Elephant in the room.”

“Oh!” I jump in my seat. “I know this one! Republican party!”

He scrunches his eyebrows, then laughs out loud. “Okay,
yes,
that's the symbol for the Republican Party, but that happened about a hundred years after what we're studying. I meant
our
elephant.” He blushes a little and looks down at his hands. “You know…us.”

My heart gives an extra beat. I'm nervous, but I'm not sure why. What do I think he'll say?

He's looking at me like it's my turn to say something.

“Right,” I offer.

“If I'm going to tutor you, we have to be normal. You can't be weird around me.”

I'm so stunned it's like he threw a bucket of cold water on my face. “Me weird around you?!
You're
weird around 
me
!”

“Seriously?” he snorts. “You barely say two words to me. Ever.”

“You barely even look at me! When we're all hanging out, I could whip off my shirt and run around swinging it over my head and you wouldn't even notice.”

The sides of J.J.'s mouth curl up in a smirk. “Pretty sure I'd notice if you took off your shirt and swung it over your head.”

“I'm not so sure.”

“Wanna try?” he asks. “I'll prove it.”

I wad up one of his notecards and throw it at him.

“Hey! Tutor abuse! I could get a lethal paper cut!”

“Only if I use the cards like throwing stars.” I pick up a notecard and fling it so it smacks point first into J.J.'s chest. He watches it hit its mark, then slowly gets up, raising a single eyebrow.

“I see you underestimate my ninja skills,” he says. Then, in a flash, he whips the rest of the cards off the table and flings them at me in lightning-fast succession, while I race around the room screaming and dodging away. I end up taking cover on the far side of Mrs. Foreman's desk…which is right by her box of recycling. Score!

“Bombs away!” I shout as I crumple a sheet of paper and lob it at J.J. He counters with a mad volley of notecards.

Soon it's an all-out paper war, with each of us diving for the other's used ammunition as we dodge and attack. We leap on Mrs. Foreman's couch, duck under her desk, and roll her desk chair like a moving shield, shouting and squealing with every throw and hit.

Until the door opens. We freeze—sweaty, tousled, and panting—as Mr. Winthrop leans his head in. He looks angry at first, but then his expression widens into a knowing smile. Unlike Mrs. Foreman, Mr. Winthrop prides himself on keeping up with all the student social drama, so J.J.'s and my past is no secret. “I heard shouting,” he says. “Everything cool in here?”

“We're good,” J.J. says.

Mr. Winthrop smiles wider. “Glad to hear it.” He winks and shuts the door…and two seconds later J.J. and I collapse onto the couch laughing.

“Did he seriously
wink
?” I ask.

“ ‘Skywalker and woe'—next thing I'm writing on his board.”

“ ‘So keenly awkward,' ” I agree.

We sit there for a second, shaking our heads and bursting out with another laugh every time our eyes meet.

“I've missed you.”

I say it without meaning to, but once the words are out, I feel this deep pain inside because I realize how much I mean them. I've missed J.J. desperately. There's no one else I'm this goofy and happy and easy with—not even Jenna. And all of a sudden I'm terrified and can't look at him because I'm afraid I ruined it and he'll pull back into himself like before. Finally I risk a look at his face. My heart thumps when I see his eyes. Even though he's smiling, his eyes are deep and serious, and he doesn't take them off me.

“I've missed you too.”

The deep pain inside me explodes into happy fireworks and I want to throw my arms around him for a huge hug, but I don't. I just look at him with a dopey smile on my face. Maybe not quite as dopey as the one on his…but yeah, probably the same.

“Okay,” he says, pounding on the couch, “let's get you tutored up. We're out of time today, so we'll start tomorrow after Senior Social Committee. I'll come to your house.”

“Really?” I ask. “I thought you always see Carrie after Senior Social Committee.”

“I do,” he says. “But this is to impress Mrs. Foreman and improve my college recommendation, so it takes precedence. Carrie'll understand.”

I raise my eyebrows. “She'll understand you're hanging out with me instead of with her?”

“Not a chance,” J.J. admits without hesitation. “But she will understand ‘a nun's magnificent speeds.' ”

I don't even ask. I just wait until he translates.

“An unspecified assignment,” he says. “Doesn't make sense to get her upset about nothing.”

“Right,” I say. And while keeping the tutoring a secret from Carrie makes it seem like it
is
something, I totally agree with J.J. Much as Carrie and I are pseudo-friends, she's very aware that I'm the only other girl J.J. has ever dated at Aventura High, and she'd be freaked by us hanging out alone together. Especially during time that's supposed to be theirs.

Of course, if I have my way, this won't be an issue after Saturday's Scare Pair dance. Carrie will be off with Keith Hamilton, and J.J. will be floating in anagram splendor with Mariah Amhari.

The next day, J.J. does exactly what he promised. He shows up at my door moments after I get home from Senior Social Committee.

“No books?” I ask when I answer the door and see he's empty-handed.

“No need,” he replies. He beelines for my couch, picks up the remote, and starts surfing through all the TV menus. “I know you. Books won't get this stuff into your head. If you're going to learn about the American Revolution, you have to become interested in the characters. So here,” he says, nodding at the TV, “characters.”

He presses a button and we start watching a movie called
The Patriot,
which is about this guy who reluctantly joins the Revolutionary War, alongside his ridiculously hot son. The movie's not bad. Lots of action, and of course the hot son, who dies in his dad's arms. When it's over, J.J. starts telling me all the ways the movie is historically wrong. He brings up a bunch of things we've talked about in class, but while they were just dizzying dates before, now I feel like I can ground them in some kind of reality. I can imagine the people he's talking about, even if they weren't in the movie, and it all feels more alive. I'm shocked when my mom comes home with Erick and says it's already eight o'clock—I had no idea we'd been studying so long. Mom makes a huge fuss over J.J. when she sees him—she always thought he was great—and when she hears we haven't eaten, she insists on making us a meal, which we eat while we talk about school, and our friends, and our lives, and the best things each of us has been watching online that we can't believe the other one hasn't seen. We show them to each other and laugh like crazy until my mom boots him out because it's a school night and she insists I get some sleep.

It feels so much like we're back to normal that I half expect him to pick me up for school the next day, but of course he doesn't. I do see him at lunch. It's my first day braving our circle since I saved Sean's future by destroying it, and he's handling it reasonably well by pretending I don't exist and cringing whenever anyone says my name. As for J.J. and me, we act more or less the same way we have all year. Friendly, but in a cool, sorta distant way. It's only when something comes up that reminds us of one of the YouTube bits we saw last night that he catches my eye over Carrie's head and we both start laughing.

“What?” Carrie asks, already joining in and giggling. “Share with the rest of us.”

“It's nothing,” J.J. says. “I swear.”

“Hey, Jack,” I say brightly, fake-changing the subject. “What do you know about Skywalker and woe?”