Chapter 5: Homework

We live in a semi-big house with a nice garden, plenty of space for just Mason and me. There are four bedrooms, so we always have room for guests. Ramon, Mason’s best friend, practically lives here, so one of those rooms is basically his. Esme, Mason’s girlfriend, is over a lot too, although she sleeps in Mason’s bed, along with the occasional... unfortunate noises. Esme recently graduated from law school and works at a small firm nearby. She's still in her party phase and makes sure I get to experience some semblance of a "student life." She even tags along to parties thrown by my friends, keeping my brother's teacher status under wraps like a pro.

 

“A Porsche Cayenne,” Mason says, interrupting my thoughts. “But apparently, he’s got another car too.”

 

"Ah, right," I reply with a bored tone.

 

A dickhead car.

 

Mason turns on The Office as we dig into dinner. We laugh at the show, and by dessert, he’s already in teacher mode. “I need to grade some papers. Want to help?”

 

“What’s in it for me?” I ask with a smirk.

 

“My undying gratitude,” he says, tapping my knee.

 

“Hmm... fine, because it’s you. But I’m not grading Gretchen’s paper,” I say, stretching as I get up.

 

"Toss a coin for it?" He throws a coin at me and looks at the thick envelope full of written exams.

 

Gretchen is one of his students and the troublemaker of the class. I sort of like her; she’s nice and always has her bag full of stuff nobody needs. She usually just brushes her hair during class or paints her nails, but for some reason, she always gets passing grades. Mason dislikes her greatly, especially the little comments she writes on every exam on the side of the paper. It’s bordering on being inappropriate, and Mason has gone to the principal, who thinks nothing of it. So he leaves the sexual-tinted comments as they are and just ignores her presence.

 

He tosses me a coin. “Heads, you do it.”

 

“Tails!” I call, but the coin lands heads up. Damn.

 

"Fuck," I sigh out.

 

Mason chuckles, pulls Gretchen’s love-heart-filled paper from the pile, and flings it at me. I catch it mid-air and sit down at the dinner table across from him. He puts Manila Palm by Parra for Cuva on and slides another set of papers to me over the table.

 

Gretchen, ever predictable, has scribbled her phone number at the top of her exam. Classic.

 

Humphrey, our cat, lounges on the table, supervising us with lazy meows each time we finish a paper. Despite Gretchen's antics, her answers are solid, which Mason grudgingly respects.

 

"Look at this," I say, flipping Gretchen’s paper over to reveal her address with yet another love heart drawn around it. Mason shakes his head, unsurprised. We’ve seen worse.

 

As we near the end of grading, my phone buzzes with a message from Connor.

- Connor: Amsterdam on Friday?

 

Amsterdam is the popular club in town. I quickly text Esme.

 

- Nora: Wanna go clubbing Friday?

Her reply is almost instant.

-Esme: Hell yes. I’ll come to yours to get ready.

-Nora: Perfect. Bring booze ;)

“I’m going out on Friday,” I inform Mason. He looks at me suspiciously. “With who?” “With Esme.” His shoulders relax, and he nods.

 

I reply to Connor.

 

-Nora: I’m in.

-Connor: Can’t wait. See you at 11?

-Nora: Deal.

-Connor: Wear something nice.

 

I smile at my phone. Connor’s one of the best-looking guys at school—rugby player, built like a tank, with a face to match. We've never kissed, but I wouldn’t mind changing that. I look at the selfie next to his number. Cute.

 

My eyes wander to the math book lying in the kitchen. I wonder, would Mr. Adkins have a selfie on his W******p? Doesn’t seem like the type, but... I’m curious.

 

“I’ve got some homework to do,” I say, staring at the book. Maybe it’s a good idea to start reading through the book, anyway.

 

“It’s almost midnight,” Mason points out, frowning.

 

“No rest for the wicked, bro,” I quip, grabbing the book and heading upstairs.

 

"Goodnight, baby sis!" Mason yells when I don’t say anything. I slam the door of my room as an answer.

 

“Goodnight, baby sis!” he shouts after me. I slam my door in response.

 

Once I’m in bed, I finally open the math book. My eyes land again on the first page: Jace Adkins. My finger hovers over the number, but then I slap myself and actually start reading.

 

Turns out, everything’s explained much more clearly in the teacher’s version. Maybe I could get Mason to snag me a copy. I make it through the first 100 pages—enough to grasp the basics of the numbers. Talking about numbers.. The book opens at the first page all by itself. Biting my lip in doubt, I grab my phone and contemplate a lot of things.

 

I just want to see what his picture is.

 

Out of sheer curiosity, I save the number under the name "Mr. Grumpy" and open W******p.

 

No picture. Figures.

 

But then I see "online" flash under his name, and I quickly close the app, tossing my phone onto the nightstand. My heart races. Why does this feel so... wrong?

 

I mean, having a teacher’s number is definitely a gray area. Even when you hate the teacher. The idea of selling his number goes through my head, and I smirk at myself. How funny would it be when every girl bombards his phone with messages? And make me rich in the meantime?

 

Why is he online at 1 a.m. anyway?

 

I hear Mason stumbling upstairs and decide it’s time for bed. “Goodnight, big bro!” I shout through my closed door.

 

He stumbles and curses. “For crying out loud, Li! Go to sleep!”

 

Grinning, I switch off the light and pull the covers over me.