Page 97 of To Love or to Lose
“Junior year, I struggled a lot in AP World, and that was really hard for me because I was so used to doing well.” I give an attempt to relate. “I know it might make you feel stupid now, but the fact that you’re trying this hard shows how much you want to improve, and that type of determination will get you places; it already has.”
“You struggled and still pulled through with an A. I’m struggling and I’m barely managing a B,” she says, as if to saywe are not the same.
“I’m commending yourwork ethic,not your grades. Most of the time, those two things are not synonymous.”
Briar and I are a lot alike, and while I may be—on paper—smarter than her, her drive is the same as mine.
There are a few things that set us apart though, beyond her love of lacrosse. Such as her ability to make friends, and connect with people on a deeper level.
I’ve come to realize that beyond tutoring, Briar has tried to befriend me along the way. She usually stays over even after we’ve done our homework, and while I used to find it odd, I nowcan see another way she differs from me: she actually tries to make friends, instead of just hanging on to the ones that fall in her lap.
“For a long time, I felt like my academics were all I had. I didn’t play sports, I wasn’t good at any of the hobbies I tried, and the only thing I was good at was school.” I grab her paper, rewriting the equation she has been continually struggling with. “You have lacrosse, and from what I hear, you’re pretty damn good at it.”
“That doesn’t mean I should try less at school.” Briar rolls her eyes as if I’m insinuating that she should give up.
“If I was telling you that, you wouldn’t be sitting in my kitchen right now,” I tell her bluntly. “What Iamsaying is that you don’t have to be the best at everything.”
Briar has other things to back her up, which is something I’ve never had. That’s why I’ve relied on academics so heavily. If I had something comparable to lacrosse, I probably wouldn’t be where I am today.
And maybe that makes her smarter than me.
“Thanks, Valley,” Briar says.
“Valley?” I ask.
“Short for Valedictorian.” She smiles brightly.
I’ve never seen someone who can show all their teeth while smiling, but Briar comes pretty close.
I laugh lightly. “Finish the worksheet.”
“Don’t you have somewhere to go?” She asks me, pointing toward the clock on the stove with her pencil.
“Oh my God,” I groan. “How is it already seven o'clock?”
“Come on.” Briar stands from the barstool she was sitting in. “I’ll help you get ready.”
I nod, heading toward the stairs and leading her up to my room.
Winnie, Eloise, and I are meeting at Logan’s house for Jameson’s birthday party.
“Don’t you and Jameson Beaumont hate each other?” Briar breaks me out of my thoughts as we stand in my closet.
“We’re over it,” I answer simply.
My answer was far too simple for Briar’s liking, though. “We’re over it’as in you’re ignoring it, or ‘we’re over it’as in you’re banging?”
My shock almost launches me backward into my coat rack. “Neither,” I emphasize.
“So, what? Nothing is going on between you and the hot genius?”
“I am also a genius, so his brain capacity doesn’t necessarily elicit an abundance of R rated thoughts,” I tell her matter-of-factly
“Not even M rated ones?” She sounds like she’s disappointed.
“Trust me, ninety percent of my thoughts about Jameson are rated E for everyone.” I pause, seeing the glimmer of hope for the other ten percent. “Any other thoughts I have of him probably include a weapon.”
Briar pulls a blouse off its hanger, tossing it at my chest. “You’re no fun.”
