Page 75 of The Devils They Are

He leans forward, folding his arms on the desk. "I'm intrigued though. Tell me this—how did you manage towooRy?"

Sitting down, I ignore him, adjusting the workbooks so they are all symmetrical on the desk. Picking up my pen, I finally glance up, expressionless.

"Have you looked at the project?" I ask again.

Tai grins, folding his arms. "No, I haven't."

"Well, we may as well start there," I reply, annoyed.

Putting the project paper front and center, I pretend to examine the jumbled mess of numbers and letters. Fuck—there's brackets too. I feel like this is the one time that PEDMAS is going to fail me. Why teach us one thing just to have it completely contradicted later on in a different subject? Academic torture at its finest.

"I'm going to assume this relates to trigonometric functions somehow," I start. "It doesn't say outright that we're finding an angle, but Valkov has probably snuck it in there somewhere. Do you have a scientific calculator?"

When he doesn't answer, I glance up, ready to give him a good tongue lashing at his lack of interest. But instead, I find him staring at the paper, looking almost green.

Frowning, I put my pen down. "What's wrong? Are you that repulsed by my presence that you're on the verge of vomiting?"

"I hate math," he whispers painfully.

The tone is almost pathetic, full of indication thattheTai Beckett is on the edge of a nervous breakdown, that I nearly laugh.

"I don't like it either," I admit. "So, maybe Valkov was onto something when pairing people up. Suffer together, you know?"

Tai looks up. "We're going to fail, Bexley. This was a mistake."

What the hell is going on? There's something off-putting about his sudden change of behavior. But regardless of whatever crisis he is going through, I don't have it in me to fail. Not after everything else that has happened. The very least I can do is graduate after I lay Mom to rest. I still haven't sorted out the whole funeral mess, but I'll be damned if I don't pass senior year and fully implode my life into irreparable despair.

"We're not going to fail," I say firmly. "We have two weeks to finish this. It's not the end of the world. Truthfully, I don't think there's even a correct answer. We just need to show our working out process."

He doesn't answer, just remains frozen. Seconds continue to pass and part of me wonders if this is some type of ploy to catch me off guard. But the longer the silence takes hold, I start to genuinely panic that he's having some medical emergency and may need to get Soph to assist.

"Snap out of it." I wave my hand in front of his face.

A little head shake is all I get in reply. Sighing, I'm about ready to give up when there's a knock on the door.

Turning my head, an older woman walks in, carrying a tray of cookies.

"I thought you might like a study snack," she beams, pausing once she catches sight of Tai. "What's wrong, Bear?"

Her words seem to snap him out of his trance, cheeks reddening slightly as he gazes at her in alarm. "Nothing!"

She looks at me, offering a warm smile. "Is he doing mathematics? Poor child can code all day but the moment he has to multiply—" she trails off, laughing softly.

The tray gets set down on the edge of the desk, my stomach grumbling at the smell of freshly baked cookies. Holy fuck—they look amazing.

"You're not allergic to peanut butter, are you?" She asks suddenly. "Oh, goodness. I should have asked beforehand. I'm so sorry."

"No, no it's fine," I quickly say, reaching for one. "I love peanut butter."

I nearly choke on the words. Nostalgia threatens to send me into a spiral alongside Tai—what a pair we would be. Beckett breaking down over math while I wallow over peanut butter cookies. The smell reminds me of Mom and better times, but surprisingly, I find myself overcome with emotion-fueled fond memories instead of living nightmares.

A wave of relief crosses her face. "I'm glad. They are Tai's favorite. I'm just not used to having new faces in the house. When he said he had a study partner, I was expecting Rylan or Hunter. Though I'm not sure how much studying those boys get done. Boys and their videogames."

"I don't have the correct anatomy for that, I'm afraid," I joke, taking a bite of the…best fucking cookies I've ever tasted. Holy shit.

My eyes widen in surprise, causing her to laugh. I swallow, turning to her. "These are incredible," I boast. "Did you make them?"

She nods. "My secret recipe." Her smile is infectious, and I can't help but return the gesture. She reminds me of Mom in her better days—putting me at ease as I take in her delicate features and contagious happiness.

---