Page 67 of Tutoring the Bad Boy
I brace for a fight, but there’s no need. My mom waves her hand toward the door, giving me the space I need. Maybe all my suspicions are wrong. There’s a chance she hasn’t told me about the deal because she’s felt the strain on our relationship too. Maybe she wants to build a few more feet on the bridge before tackling that monster.
Crossing the room, I step out onto the balcony and lean on it. “Okay, I can talk now.”
“Would you mind if I Facetimed you? I was kinda planning on introducing you to my dad over Christmas break.” I can hear the awkwardness in his voice, but the giddiness I feel at seeing him and meeting his dad has my inner teenager with a crush squealing.
“Sure.”
A second later, I answer the Facetime call. Kaleb comes into view first and then his dad. “This is my dad, Shelby Quinn.”
I wave. “Hi, Mr. Quinn.”
His dad laughs. “You can call me Shelby.”
Grimacing, I shake my head. “Yeah, probably not, and especially not if my mom is around.”
“That’s okay. I’m glad I’m getting a chance to meet you. Kaleb has had nothing but good things to say. I should also thank you for helping him with Mrs. Yates’s class.”
Kaleb has told his dad about me? Good things? I mean, I shouldn’t be surprised, I guess, but I am. “Oh, well…” I look at Kaleb and our gazes lock. “I’m glad I was able to help.”
Again, I’m so lost in Kaleb that I’m not sure when his dad leaves, but when I pull my gaze from his, he’s the only one framed by the screen.
“How’s your trip so far?” Kaleb asks.
I’m giving him a tour of the entire suite before I realize it. Lava-temperature heat floods my face. I must have steam billowing from my ears.
“Uh, sorry.” I cast a glance toward my mom, and she’s either lost in the newspaper or actively trying to seem like she’s not eavesdropping. Maybe there is hope that we’ll end this trip with all our cards on the table.
He shakes his head and laughs. “No, I’m glad you’re having fun. That hotel room is sweet. I had no idea they could be that nice.”
“Me either. It’s been so awesome.” I take the conversation back out to the balcony to continue. A cool breeze takes a little of the warmth out of my cheeks, enough to make them slightly comfortable. I take a seat in one of the two balcony chairs so he can see the beach behind me. “I’m glad you called.”
“There was no way I wasn’t wishing my girlfriend Merry Christmas,” he says and winks. “Thanks for letting me introduce my dad.”
“He seems nice.”
“We’ve had a pretty good time.” His dad’s voice carries from somewhere else in the house, and Kaleb looks over his shoulder. “I’ll tell you more about it when you get back. I think he’s killed the turkey.”
“I haven’t killed it!” Mr. Quinn yells. “There is a chance it’s maimed.”
We laugh and wish each other Merry Christmas again before ending the call. As I sit outside, I try to think of a gift to get him. We said no gifts, but that’s so not happening. I just don’t want it to be lame, and so far all the ideas I’ve had are just that, dumb.
I check on my mom inside, and she’s tapping a pen against her lips. She’s working on a crossword puzzle, and she’s stumped. I know because this’s her typical way of working through the puzzle. Then it hits me.
A pen for Kaleb. One quick search on my phone, and I’ve got a list of architectural pens that are popular. The only issue is that most are plastic, which I’m not stoked about. I send a text to his best friend, Chris, asking him what he thinks of the gift.
The only reason I have his number is that we were in a class the previous year and I’ve just never deleted his number. I’d planned on it and forgot. Now, I’m glad I didn’t. Ten minutes later, I’ve got the thumbs-up I was hoping for.
I jump up from the chair and fling open the door, startling my mom. She drops her pen and clutches her shirt. “Oh my word.”
“Sorry. I’m just…” I bit my thumb. I’m a little hesitant to tell her that I want to give Kaleb a gift, but I figure it’s my turn to slap a few boards down for that bridge we’re building. “I want to get Kaleb a gift.”
For a moment, I think she might freak out, but it’s my turn to be surprised. “Okay. You two have spent a lot of time studying together. It makes sense that you would want to get him something.”
Nope. Still not chucking my eggs in that basket. “Exactly. Think you could help me pick it out?”
She smiles. “I’d love to. Grab a shower, and we’ll hit the town. I’m seeing some ice cream in our midafternoon future.”
Seriously? Who is this woman? Maybe there’s a little more hope for us than I thought. Rushing over to her, I hug her. “Thanks. I won’t take long.”
