Page 13 of Most Valuable Players
Good weekend? He’s just ruined any possibility of my doing anything but studying from now until the test. I trudge up the stairs with a pit in my stomach, and a foreboding feeling that I’ll be lucky to eke out a C in this class. So much for my stellar GPA and so much for getting into the highly competitive MBA program.
At the top of the stairs, I look up to see that Joel and Zeke wear worried expressions. Ones that I’m sure match my own.
Zeke scrubs a hand over his massive jaw. “Man, I don’t think I can learn this shit by then.”
Joel nudges him. “Sure you can. Wes could teach this stuff to children.”
“Isn’t that what I’ve been doing?” the man himself states dryly.
As I approach, he stands and meets me on the stairs.
“Blair.” He says my name like a challenge.
“So, you’re what some sort of statistics genius?”
“Your words.”
“And in your words?”
“I already told you in my words, I could pass this class even if I never showed up.” He shrugs as if it’s no big damn deal.
I hold back an actual growl. “That’s infuriating.”
He grins wide. “And impressive?”
“Maybe, but more infuriating than impressive.” I point toward his teammates. “And those two,you’retutoring them?”
“What? No, nothing like that.”
Something tells me that’s exactly what’s happening. He looks almost embarrassed by the prospect. I don’t know why it hadn’t occurred to me before. I don’t need to find a tutor; I’ve already found the best man for the job. I just have to convince him to help me.
The excitement of my idea must be written all over my face.
“Oh, no. No. I’m not a tutor.”
“I know, but you obviously know your stuff.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know the first thing about being a tutor, and even if I did, I don’t have time. Between practice and homework...” He offers another shrug. “There’s a reason I sleep in this class.”
Nodding, I swallow the lump of disappointment in my throat.
I have no idea how I’m going to convince the statistics God to help me. I don’t have anything to offer him. And my schedule is as insane as his until I get David off my back.
Between classes and practice, I don’t doubt Wes is strapped for free time. And then there are the parties and the ladies. I’m no fool. I know how girls throw themselves at jocks. Vanessa’s told me what it’s like. She’s ready to throw down every time a girl so much as looks at Mario. And they do a lot more than look.
So far, they seem to have gotten the memo V isn’t one to mess with because I guarantee the first time one lays a finger on him—innocent or not—she’ll be walking around campus with a black eye or half her hair pulled out.
I digress . . . how do you get a man to do something he doesn’t want to do for someone who insulted his intelligence and has absolutely nothing to offer him?
I mull over this question on the two-hour drive to Succulent Hill as I sing along to an old high school playlist. When I pull up to Gabby’s house, I haven’t managed to come up with any solutions, but I’m in better spirits anyway.
Gabby’s mom, who had taken a job that allowed her to work from home after the accident, greets me at the door before I can ring the doorbell.
“Come in, honey. Gabby is upstairs.” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, smiling as if it were totally normal for her twenty-one-year-old daughter to be hiding away.
“Knock, knock,” I call as I enter Gabby’s room. Unsurprisingly, I find my best friend behind her laptop with eyes squinted behind thick glasses. My life has changed so much since the accident, I moved to Valley and did all the things we’d promised—pledge a sorority and major in business. I even force myself to go to Pilates occasionally.
I got my miracle that day. Whether it was thanks to God or the power of positive thinking, I’ll never know for sure, but that day changed me forever.
