Page 32 of Tutoring the Bad Boy
He leans closer and says, “Sorry, I just feel like this is a better proximity for whispering in the library.”
A group of three girls clutching textbooks pass by. They look at us and start snickering to each other. It’s either because they heard about what happened at Dixie’s party or they’re giving off the general flirty-female energy that most girls have when they see Kaleb. It’s kind of annoying.
Ignoring the butterflies in my stomach, I ask, “Do you want to read some of the lines? From the play?”
Kaleb looks at me like I’m an alien. “If I do, do you promise we can have a real conversation afterward?”
“What do you mean?”
“A Kaleb-and-Ginny conversation. Not a tutor-and-school-idiot conversation.”
I bump him with my shoulder. “You’re not the school idiot, and you know it. It’s your way of dealing with the hard stuff. Kinda like armor or something.”
Kaleb seems intrigued and leans in even closer. He whispers in my ear, and the hairs on my arms stand on end. “I’ll tell you my real identity, but you can’t tell anyone.”
I see where this is going, and I try to hide my grin. “Okay.”
“I’m Superman.”
I playfully push him away and laugh. “Your secret is safe with me.”
The initial tension melts away, and Kaleb and I get to reading the lines of the King and Queen of the Faeries. Kaleb mostly looks confused the whole time, and I have to explain certain words and phrases to him. As I look down at the textbook explaining things, I feel Kaleb’s eyes boring into me.
“You’re a good actor,” he says, cocking his head to the side. “You have a beautiful voice.”
I clear my throat. That’s a compliment I’ve never received. “I don’t think I could ever stand on a stage and have people stare at me.”
“You’re going to have to when you’re valedictorian.”
I hit Kaleb playfully again. “Whatever. I’ll become valedictorian when you become Superman.”
“Deal.” Kaleb puts out his fist for a fist-bump.
I guess I’ve wandered into fellow-dude territory. I put out my fist, but Kaleb grabs my hand and opens it. As he holds my hand tight, I stare at him in stunned silence. All I can think is that I want him to kiss me again.
The suspended moment is broken when the old librarian walks past and shakes her head in disapproval.
Kaleb and I let go of one another, and I crane my head over the textbook, trying to quickly regain formality. “I think you’re really getting better at reading Shakespeare and understanding it.”
Kaleb plays along. “It’s weird. Like a different language or something.”
“You’ll learn it. You just have to have a little faith in yourself.”
Seeing that the librarian is gone, Kaleb scoots in closer again. “Now, can we talk about real things?”
“Like what?” I’m kind of playing dumb.
“Your game tonight. Dinner.”
I will myself to take a deep breath and close the textbook. “I’m nervous.”
Concern is written on Kaleb’s face. “I’m nervous too.”
“Why?”
He blinks like it’s a dumb question. “’Cause I want you to succeed. Just like you want me to succeed.”
“About the kiss—” Why am I bringing this up?
