She came into the raised office area and dropped her book bag on the ground. “Seriously. And I’m pretty sure you’re wearing two different shoes.”
I scoffed and looked down. “I most certainly do n—” Well, shit. “They’re the same color, it’s an easy mistake.”
“Except one’s Adidas and the other’s Saucony.” She pulled out her books and put them on the desk next to the phone.
“Rough morning,” I said, tucking my feet under the desk.
“Trouble with the flyboy?” She opened her trig book and her notebook. When I didn’t answer, she swung her head my direction and blinked. “Whoa. Really?”
“Nothing you need to worry about, Avery. How is your homework?” I peeked over her shoulder.
“Confusing. It probably didn’t help that I spent most of class making moon eyes at Grady Alexander. But in my defense? This stuff doesn’t make any sense, and I zoned my teacher out.”
“Bet you wished you’d paid as much attention to your teacher as you did Grady, huh?”
“Ha-ha. Very funny. Homecoming is in like a month, and I don’t have a date. That is way more important than trig.” She tapped her eraser on the blank sheet of paper.
At twenty-one, I knew that wasn’t true. Then again, here I was deciding my collegiate future on where my boyfriend planned on moving so that he could be closer to his other girlfriend. I was four years older than Avery and still a fucking mess.
Not to mention, I remembered what it was like to be seventeen. “Why don’t you ask him? Grady?”
She looked at me like I’d grown six heads. “Yeah, okay. No. I’m not one of the girls he goes for, trust me. The most communication we have is when he asks me for a pencil. Every day, he asks me for a pencil. Like, what am I? A pencil-supply store? But if he brought his own pencil, then I wouldn’t have a reason to even talk to him.”
“It’s kind of cute. You have something he needs, and he asks you every day because he knows that you’ll take care of him.” Ugh. Now I was analyzing high-school crushes.
But what does Grayson need? What are your pencils? Faith. The one thing no one else had. He needed me to have faith in him. At what cost to yourself?
Avery shook her head. “Computers are easier for me than boys. Give me good internet connection, and I can change my grades. Give me a homecoming dance, and I can’t change my fate. I’m so pathetic.”
I looped my arm around her slight shoulder. “No, you’re not. Is he coming in today?”
She shrugged. “It’s Tuesday, so he might come in to lift after football practice.”
“Then you’d better get your homework done now, because I have a feeling your little moon-eyes will be back.”
“Will you help me?” she asked quietly.
I rolled my chair closer to her. “Let’s do this.” I spent an hour explaining the differences between cosign and tangent, using the walls and equipment as visual aids. Avery worked best with imagery, not rote memory.
“Name one time I’ll actually have to use this when I grow up.”
“I’m going to use it all the time,” I answered.
“Yeah, well I have no intention of majoring in math, or anything of the sort. You’d better get your homework done, too, since you started classes last week.” Her eyes flicked to the clock. “Almost five.”
I’d finished summer term with two A’s. Now it was time to bring home four more before term ended in December. “Grady might be here soon,” I said with a smile.
“Flyboy might be here soon,” she answered with her own.
We both sighed.
“Mail is here!” Maggie called, bringing a stack of envelopes in the door. “I ran into our carrier, so I brought it on in.”
“Hi, Mom.”
Maggie kissed her daughter soundly on the cheek. “How’s your homework?”
“Done!” she replied enthusiastically.
Maggie’s eyebrows rose. “Good job!” Then she came up behind me. “Thank you,” she whispered as she sorted the mail.
I smiled at her and answered the phone and my tenth question that day about our hours.