"I find him hard to read, you know?"

I nodded because, yes, I certainly did find him hard to read. There were times when we would have a moment during our sessions-a shared laugh, a smile of appreciation-and then he'd flip the switch and go back to being taciturn and sort of irritated.

"Will and Mike think he's a great guy but I don't know...I think he's got hard edges. And that girl, Vanessa? What could anyone see in her?"

"You don't think she's pretty?" I asked, truly surprised.

"If you're into that, I guess. I predict she'll be unmarried with three kids and three different baby daddies by the time she's thirty. I can kind of picture her, tattoos covering her bony arms, smoking a b.u.t.t on the steps of her double wide in the trailer park."

"You're just mad because you know she could probably kick your a.s.s," I teased, tickling Drew.

He pinned my wrists and flipped me over onto my back, straddling me on the couch. "Oh, now you're gonna get it, Harris."

I did like working with Jeremy. It was a challenge but I was learning so much, getting a window into the way his brain worked and gaining a deeper understanding of why certain teaching strategies were more effective than others.

While those were perks, there were challenges-lots of them. For example, I found it hard to concentrate at times, especially when Jeremy would take his pencil and tap the eraser against his bottom lip when he was lost in thought...or when Jeremy would run his hands through his hair when he was frustrated...or when Jeremy smiled in triumph as he mastered a difficult concept.

I liked him.

Like, I liked him.

The warm, buzzy feeling I had in my chest when I was with Jeremy wasn't very different from the b.u.t.terflies I'd felt for him back in sixth grade. The only difference was that instead of daydreaming about him kissing me chastely, I would now sometimes find myself gazing off into s.p.a.ce, wondering how it would feel to have his hands grasping my hips, holding my body close as he kissed me deep, his tongue exploring my mouth.

As I took my seat across from Jeremy today, I wasn't lost in naughty thoughts, though. Today I was wondering why I felt lightheaded and sweaty all of a sudden. And why the room was kind of spinning.

"Carolyn? Are you all-"

I darted up, knocking my chair out from under me. I clamped my hand over my mouth as I struggled with the doork.n.o.b and then ran to the girls' bathroom. I just barely made it, sweat pooling on my forehead, before falling to my knees and heaving into the toilet. It felt never ending. How much food was in my stomach? I kept heaving even after there was simply nothing left. Oh, yeah, those really attractive noises you make when you dry heave? I realized mid-lurch that Jeremy was witnessing the whole show.

I wiped my mouth on my sleeve when I felt him come up behind me. He gathered my hair and ran a wet paper towel across my forehead and down along my neck. I was about to try and laugh it off and attempt some clever comment but my stomach was again overtaken by aliens at that very moment. I think what I ate last month decided to make a comeback.

How humiliating.

And how sweet he was.

After what seemed like a lifetime, I rested my head in my hands and slid my b.u.t.t onto the bathroom floor. "G.o.d, don't look at me, I'm gross."

He chuckled softly and said, "I've seen worse." He turned and got some fresh paper towels that he wet and wrung out before handing them to me. I wiped my mouth and my hands. Then Jeremy reached down and gently pulled me up.

"Thanks, Jeremy."

"You good? Think you're done?"

"I'd better be."

"Jeez, you look green, Carolyn."

"I feel like death warmed over."

"Do you have a car?"

"No. My mother is picking me up."

"Give me your phone."

"It's back in the room."

When I tried to take a few steps and teetered, he steadied me. "Whoa. You stay here," he said as he propped me against the wall, "and I'll get your stuff. I'll be right back."

By the time he returned a few minutes later, I'd slid down the wall into a sitting position. I didn't even have the energy to stand. I felt like absolute c.r.a.p. "Hey, you doing all right?" he asked as he crouched down next to me. "I called your mom, she's on her way. I'd have driven you myself but I have my bike today."

I croaked weakly, "Yeah, I don't think I'm up for being on the back of a motorcycle right now."

He laughed. "I don't think I'd be able to drive the thing knowing you could puke on me at any moment."

I tried to laugh but just keeping my eyes open was a major effort at that point. I noticed Jeremy looping both of our backpacks onto his shoulders and before I knew it, he was reaching down to scoop me up in his arms. "I can walk," I said, even though I was grateful that I didn't have to.

"No way. And before you go getting all mushy on me, Carolyn, I'll remind you this is purely selfish on my part. I need my tutor to make a full and speedy recovery. Next week I've got two huge tests, got it?"

"Got it, Daniel-san."

"Huh?"

I breathed out, exhausted with the effort of speaking-of thinking, for that matter. "Karate Kid. You're Daniel-san, I'm Mr. Miyagi."

"You're who? Holy s.h.i.t," he whispered. Then he placed his lips against my forehead. What the? Was he kissing me? That's nice, I thought, but messed up, considering I probably smelled of puke. "I think you're delusional with fever," he said. Oh...he'd been checking my temperature...no kiss.

I closed my eyes at that point and didn't perk up again until I felt him lower me into the car. "She's really sick, Mrs. Harris. I don't think I've ever seen someone throw up that much."

"Ok, let's get you home, sweetie," my mom said as she clipped my seat belt over my lap. "And thank you...um...I didn't get your name."

"Jeremy Rivers. Carolyn tutors me."

"Jeremy? The one Thomas talks about? Did you go to Briarwood?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well thank you, Jeremy, for taking care of Carolyn. I'm so happy I finally got to meet you."

The next twenty-four hours were a blur. When I awoke on Wednesday afternoon, I was covered in a sheen of sweat, thirsty and a little hungry. That was a good sign. Like a mind-reading angel, my mother entered my room with toast and tea on a tray.

"Ah, how did you know?"

"I could tell the fever broke. I knew you'd need a little something in your tummy."

"What time is it?"

"Four o'clock."

"What day is it?"

She smiled. "Wednesday."

"Oh," I said, relieved. "I feel so much better."

"Good, but I think you should stay home to rest tomorrow."

"I really don't want to miss another day, Mom."

"Why? Your grades won't suffer."

I couldn't tell her why. "I just need to go in. If I feel bad tomorrow morning, I won't go, I promise."

She sighed. "All right." As Mom went to prop my pillows up so I could sit up and eat, she said, "What a nice boy that Jeremy Rivers is."

I nibbled on my toast as I gave a noncommittal nod of a.s.sent.

"How has it been for him, coming back to Westerly?"

"I would say good overall. He's kind of a big man on campus, football star and all. He's popular with the girls," I said, rolling my eyes.

She smiled, laughing. "I meant academically, Carolyn."

"Oh," I said, recovering. "He has accommodations like extra testing time and technology a.s.sistance but it's a struggle for him, I think."

My mother looked disappointed. She was thinking about Thomas. "I mean, he's pa.s.sing, Mom. He doesn't complain. But I feel badly sometimes. It's like he doesn't expect to excel. He's happy with just getting by, you know?"

"All those years of just antic.i.p.ating failure, Carolyn...I imagine it's hard to set new expectations for yourself."

"Yeah," I answered absently. I was thinking, wondering if I could help Jeremy to see himself in a different light. I felt terrible about the day I shot down his happy mood when he showed me his mediocre test grade. He was proud of himself but I knew he could do better. I was determined to make him see himself the way I saw him.

Thursday I returned to school and was disappointed when I realized there would be no tutoring that day either. When I saw Kerri at our lockers in the morning she relayed the lunchroom scene from the day before, telling me how Jeremy, looking positively green, practically knocked Samantha off his lap onto the floor as he rushed to the bathroom. Apparently I was contagious. She laughed recounting Samantha's attempt to play the concerned girlfriend, which lasted for all of about two seconds. Samantha took off once she caught a whiff of puke.

I had last period free so I ditched. Not having a license when all of my friends did...it just blew. I walked the distance home and then took my mother's cast off old beater, a Volvo wagon that I a.s.sumed was still in the garage because it would one day be mine. I drove, my permit on the seat beside me. I figured that if I was pulled over, I'd play dumb.

By the time I reached Jeremy's place, I was a nervous wreck. I was relieved to see his truck in the driveway but parking parallel alongside it took several attempts. Forget how I must have looked backing into that spot on Main Street...I can only imagine.

"h.e.l.lo," a startlingly good looking man said, his expression curious as he opened the door. He looked to be about forty, with clear, bright eyes and tan skin that looked like he spent a lot of time outdoors. It was Jeremy, twenty or so years from now.

"Hi, I'm Carolyn. Is Jeremy home? I heard he was sick."

"He was sick, all right. That was some virus he had, but now he's back among the living. I just heard the shower going before and was fixing him something to eat."

I held up the paper bag in my hand. "I brought him some soup. A peace offering," I said, smiling.

He wrinkled his brow, confused, but smiled back at me. "Well, let's see if he's up for visitors."

He closed the door behind him and led me back outside and around the other side of the house. As we made our way, I took in the scene. It looked like a cottage right out of a storybook, where you'd imagine Goldilocks came across the three bears' place out in the middle of the woods. It was serene and quiet, the only sound being the crunch of fallen leaves underfoot.

He opened the door and called out as I followed him up the stairs, "You decent, Jeremy? You have a visitor."

"Yeah, you can send Vanessa up."

Her name coming from his mouth felt like a jab. Why? Why did I come here? I felt small and foolish all over again. "Is Vanessa on her way?" I asked. "I can leave. I just wanted to drop this off for you."

His hands stilled at the sound of my voice, the towel still covering most of his face as he stopped drying his hair. "Carolyn?" he asked, surprised, as he tossed the towel aside and looked at me.

I felt uncomfortable and embarra.s.sed. However, that didn't stop me from noticing the way he looked sprawled out on his leather couch, flannel pajama pants slung low, no shirt, his skin fresh and damp from a shower. He was a sight. I swallowed and placed the paper bag on the coffee table in front of him as I said, "I figured this is the least I could do after pa.s.sing the plague onto you."

He smiled then. "Dad, this is Carolyn Harris, the girl I told you about, the one who's tutoring me."

Mr. Rivers smiled at me as he shook my hand. "I'm Michael Rivers. It's nice to meet you, Carolyn. Jeremy has been singing your praises."

Jeremy cleared his throat then, signaling for his dad to stop talking. His dad chuckled and then made his way back downstairs. Jeremy looked back to me and said, teasing, "You do owe me, Harris. I don't think I've ever been that sick before. I probably lost five pounds in one day."

"Well, here's a peace offering, chicken soup from Le evier."

"Hmm," he mused as he opened the bag. He breathed in as he lifted the to-go container's lid and closed his eyes. "It smells incredible. I'm starving so I'm guessing I can hold this down."

"I was twenty-four hours to the minute, so I a.s.sumed that you'd be on the mend by now. Kerri told me that disaster hit around lunchtime yesterday."

His eyes twinkled as he looked up at me, smiling. "I was sitting there, totally fine one minute and then thinking, oh no, the next."

"Yeah," I smiled back, half-heartedly. "Kerri said you practically threw your new babe off your lap running to the bathroom." I looked away then, ashamed of myself. Why couldn't I hold my tongue around him?

"My new babe?" When I didn't say anything in response, Jeremy began to eat his soup.

"There's crackers in the bag." Smooth, Carolyn. G.o.d, why am I always so freaking awkward? I'd just ruined a nice moment between us, again.

"Thanks," he said, somberly.

"So, um, I just wanted to bring you that and to let you know I'm free Sunday if you want to get together."

He must have been starving because he didn't stop spooning soup into his mouth as he c.o.c.ked his head and gave me a look that made me feel as if I'd grown a second head. "To study," I clarified. "You have tests on Monday and Tuesday, right? I want you to feel prepared."

"You don't mind? You'd do that for me?"

"Of course," I answered. "We missed both sessions this week thanks to me."

"It wasn't your fault."

I was still standing across from him, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. A slight smile crept onto his face as he looked up at me. He was looking at my hand. I realized later that I'd been twisting my hair into knots. "You wanna sit, Carolyn?"

"No, um, I've gotta get going. I took my mom's car and I technically don't have my license."

His eyes widened and he smiled broadly. "You s.h.i.tting me?"

"No." I shrugged. "It's no big deal."