Page 86 of To Love or to Lose
“She’s a certified genius. I used her test prep all the way through secondary school when I was studying for the SAT.” That’s what I figured.
Valerie Mason is one of the most renowned high school prodigies in the world. She’s made a career out of it, creating test prep kits and getting paid to tutor on her website.
“Her study methods are insane,” Jameson says.
I bite my lip to stop myself from laughing. How would Jameson react if he found out I was the one who helped Valerie create all those test prep kits she posted to her website? My ego is practically bursting at the seams knowing Jameson Beaumont has been usingmystudy techniques for the past four years.
“You want to play another game?” I ask instead of saying anything more about Valerie.
“Sure.” He shrugs, uncrossing his legs and stretching them out on the side of the board, close to touching my calf.
Maybe it wasn’t the greatest idea to do this while sitting on the bed, but I refuse to say anything about it now.
I push the chess board further toward him. “You go first.”
He smirks, making his first move.
“Who taught you how to play?” he asks as I move my pawn forward.
I bite my lip, not knowing whether I should answer. “My dad,” I finally say.
“Tough subject?” Jameson asks.
I shrug. “My parents travel a lot for work, so I don’t see them much.”
He nods, like he can relate, but stays silent. His understanding makes me feel the need to continue explaining.
“I started getting used to my parents being home less and less, and by the time I got to high school, they were only there a couple days a month, like they were friends visiting from out of town,” I sigh. “I used to think that, maybe if I had good enough grades in school or joined clubs—or didsomethingto make them proud—then they would come home more often.”
“Genevieve—”
“There was no point, I know that.” I run my hands through my hair, pulling at the root, hoping the pain will distract my eyes from welling with tears. “It was dumb, the type of internal bargaining I did with myself, willing my parents to come home. I thought that maybe…” I stop myself from saying anything more.
“That’s not your fault, Genevieve,” Jameson says. The sincerity in his voice is so thick it almost feels like he’s willing it to seep in my pours. “If your parents aren’t here to see how amazing you’re doing, and how much you’re accomplishing, that’s on them.”
“Maybe I should have taken up a sport.” My voice cracks as I say it, but I swallow the lump in my throat back. “They wouldhave come home if there was a reason, if there was something more for them to see than a test grade, I know they would have.”
“I’m an asshole for saying that,” Jameson sighs. “It’s not fair to put those pressures on yourself, and I should have never put that thought in your head.”
“There’s no point in us talking about this.” I backtrack. I don’t want Jameson to know more about me than he has to, and yet here I am, spilling my personal life like it’s nothing.
“There is a point.” Jameson pauses, not taking his turn like he should. “Nothing you say is pointless, Genevieve. I swear it.”
I’m stunned to silence by his declaration, feeling my heartbeat deep in my stomach. He didn’t mean that; he doesn’t really want to listen to me ramble. I know that.
“If you don’t believe me, then keep talking,” he says when he makes eye contact with me. “Talk about whatever you want. See how long it takes for me to stop listening.” I barely smile.
I stay silent for the rest of the game.
“I’m not sleeping on the floor.” I tell Jameson as I glare at the old, grimy carpet. “I would rather gouge my eyeballs out.”
“I’ll see about getting a cot,” he responds, heading toward the door. “You go ahead, take the bed.”
We checked on Logan and Winnie a couple minutes ago, which didn’t take long considering they were curled up together, fast asleep, when we walked in.
When Jameson returns, I’m walking out of the bathroom pajama clad after brushing my teeth. He’s carrying a folded-up cot under his arm.
I feel his eyes cling to my legs. I’m wearing a pair of silk shorts and a matching tank top. They’re the only pajamas I brought on this trip since I was only expecting Winnie to see them.
