Page 76 of Under Pressure

Chapter Twenty-Two

Mia

I pull up to the Yangs’McMansion, still in a mood from the incident at Tyler’s house earlier.

It’s like we broke up without ever truly going out. How is it that it seems worse than any boy I’ve actually had a breakup with before? Is it only because it’s so fresh? Or because it meant more?

But how can I really blame Tyler? He told me multiple times he doesn’t want a girlfriend and I just… hoped he’d change his mind. I’m an idiot, putting my hopes and dreams onto someone who so clearly doesn’t feel the same way. No need for my inner critic to say anything this time. I’m aware of how stupid I am.

I trudge up the driveway and ring the bell, breathing in deeply through my nose, and exhale through my mouth, centering myself. I went home earlier and baked a chocolate cake, then ate nearly a third of it, dreading having to face Matthew and deal with one more boy who doesn’t want me around, but Mrs. Yang pays too well for me to skip out on jobs.

She answers the door, impeccably dressed in a fitted white skirt and lemon yellow top, her heels ringing against the marble floor as she leads me to the dining room. I glance down at my jeans and bulky sweater in comparison, but at least I’m warm.

“Matthew is excited to get started studying,” she says and I roll my eyes behind her back, knowing for a fact he’s not.

“His test is in a couple weeks. How did he do on the practice one I left last time?”

She glances back at me, an uncomfortable expression crossing her face. “I am not sure he had a chance to do it. You can ask him.”

I bite my tongue as she leaves me at the entrance to the dining room, Matthew on his phone as usual. I walk in silently, slamming my bag down heavily, startling him. I internally smirk, liking the feeling of getting one up on him.

“How’d you do on your practice test?”

“I didn’t get a chance,” he sighs, leaning an elbow on the table as he props his chin on his hand. “I had to study for AP Bio—”

“Listen,” I cut him off, completely fed up with his whole attitude. I don’t have time for his nonsense today. “I get it that you’ve got important classes. Everyone does. But if you’re not willing to put in the effort, why am I here?”

He sits up, paying more attention now. “You’re here so I can pass the SAT.”

“I’m here toshowyou,” I clarify. “Not do it for you. Only you can do it. And every single week I come here”—I stab my index finger into the table with each word to emphasize my point—“you’re unprepared and unconcerned. Why should I go to all the trouble of coming here and teaching you when you so obviously don’t value my time?”

His mouth gapes open, unused to hearing me outright telling him he’s doing wrong, rather than simply hinting at it. Mrs. Yang peeks her head around the corner, but I don’t really care anymore. My personal life is going to hell anyway. Might as well make it complete.

I grab my bag and he scrambles up out of his chair, worried now. “Where are you going?”

“I’m not teaching someone who so obviously doesn’t appreciate what I’m offering.” I pause, realizing this blowup is a direct parallel to my one with Tyler earlier. Am I only acting this way because of what happened with him? If I had gone over there and he’d let me tend to him, would I be perfectly content to let Matthew blow off learning anything about the SAT again?

You know what? Screw the what-ifs. I’m tired of Matthew not taking what I say seriously, so I’m dropping him. I’ll find someone new to tutor, and even if they don’t pay as much as Mrs. Yang, it’s worth it for my sanity alone.

I’m halfway to the door when I hear her call out, “Mia, wait.” I pause, knowing it would be incredibly rude to leave without explaining anything to her, although I know she overheard us in there. “Here is your check.”

She tries to hand it to me and I gently push it away. “I can’t accept this. I’m quitting.”

She steps in closer and lowers her voice. “Please take it. Matthew will not listen to me when I tell him he needs to be studying for the SAT. Maybe he will pay attention now that you have impressed upon him its seriousness. You said it in a way I could not.”

She pushes the paper into my hand, where there’s double the normal payment on there. How much money do these people have that they can spend this indiscriminately?

“Thank you,” I tell her sincerely. “He has all the tools he needs, he just needs to apply them. I hope he does well.”

She nods and opens the door for me. I glance over my shoulder, where Matthew is staring at me from the dining room entryway. “Good luck,” I call out, but he turns his back on me.

I mentally shrug, relieved to have one less thing to worry about, and get in my car.

Now I have an entire night to kill, though.

I have no desire to return home where Kelsey and I have been tiptoeing around each other since my blowup at her earlier. Good lord, how many people have I had it out with today? This has to be a new record.

Tyler’s not an option, obviously. Neither is boxing. Pretty sure I won’t be welcomed back there anymore. Sure, I could try and find a regular gym that has punching bags, but it’s too associated with him now. Although, it would be kind of nice to imagine punching his face.

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