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jennaferz

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"Deni, it's time to get up."

She groaned and rubbed her hand over her face. "No, it isn't. It's late. Go away."

"Deni." Her mother's voice was sterner this time. "It's time to get up."

She sat up. "Okay, I'm coming." The minute her mother left the room, she collapsed back onto the bed, falling back asleep within minutes. It felt like only seconds later that her mother's voice was cutting through her slumber once more.

"Denise!" She felt hands shaking her shoulders. "You're late!"

"What?" She sat up, suddenly wide awake. "I'm late?"

Her mother rolled her eyes. "Get your butt out of bed this minute."

"Shit!" Deni jumped out of bed. "What time is it?"

"You are officially"--her mother glanced at her watch--"half an hour later."

"Shit!" she said again. "Get out, will you? I have to get ready."

Her mother rolled her eyes at her again but obediently walked out. "You have ten minutes," she tossed over her shoulder.

"It'll take me five," Deni shot back, yanking on some jeans and her favorite shirt. Hastily applying makeup and slipping into her shoes, she yelled, "I'm done!"

Her mother turned from her cup of coffee and stared at her. "Den, you look like crap."

"I looked like crap for the last sixteen years of my life, get over it," she snapped. "Come on, let's go."

Her mother shrugged and grabbed the keys. When they pulled up in front of the school, she scribbled her a note and shoved it in her hand. "Have a good day."

"Unlikely," Deni called back as she raced into the school building. She gave the note to the office and skidded into her Algebra class. Every head turned, but she had eyes only for Taylor's smirking face.

"Glad you could join us, Miss Turner," the teacher said, her smug face raising its bushy eyebrows. "What's your excuse?"

"Overslept," she said airily, slipping into her seat, avoiding Taylor's eyes as he continued to smirk at her.

The teacher rolled her eyes and turned back to the board. "All right, class..."

"Careful," Taylor whispered to her. "Before you know it you'll be as badass as me."

"I don't think so," she answered. "I intend to keep my good-girl reputation."

The teacher turned around. "Miss Turner, did you have something you wanted to say to the class? Because I'm sure you know that no talking is permitted."

She felt her face flush. "No, I--" she stumbled.

"Please be quiet, then." Taylor snorted with laughter beside her as the teacher turned to the board once more.

"Some good-girl reputation," he murmured, and she elbowed him softly in the side.

"I am a good girl."

"Did that good girl decide if she wants to tutor me or not?"

She glanced at him sideways. "I don't think I'd be very good at it."

He shrugged. "Anything's better than how I am now."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Fine," she said. "Tell me when and where."

"Great." His face split into the smile that she loved so much. "Is tonight okay?"

"Tonight's good. Where?"

"My house." He scribbled his address on a piece of paper. "Right after school, I have somewhere to go at six."

"I don't think it'll take that long..."

He gave her a skeptical look. "You don't know me and Algebra. We do not mix."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Okay, where do you want to start?"

She was sprawled on Taylor's king-size bed; he sat on the floor next to her. "Anywhere," he said. "Start at the very beginning. I don't understand shit about Algebra."

She flipped through the book, trying to find a good starting place.

"So did you just move here?" he asked. "This year, I mean?"

She glanced up. "No, I've lived here my whole life."

The gaze he bestowed on her was skeptical. "Yeah, right. I have too, and I never saw you in elementary school or middle school."

"Yeah, you did."

"No, I didn't!"

"I promise you did, you just didn't recognize me. I was the fattest chick in the entire school."

He paused for a second, then recognition dawned. "No way. That was you?"

"That was me." She stared down at the textbook, feeling a hot blush spread across her face.

"Me and my friends always used to--I mean--nevermind." She looked up and was gratified to see that he was blushing too. "So did you really turn me down because of what you heard, or do you have a boyfriend?"

She was caught off guard by his question, and was opening her mouth to answer when her cell phone vibrated. Relieved, she held up a finger and flipped it open to look at the caller ID. "Michael!" she squealed.

He was watching her. At the sound of the name, he smiled a slightly sad smile. But it was gone the moment it appeared, so Deni wasn't sure if she had only imagined it. He looked down, studying his hands, and she watched his perfect face, his black hair falling over his beautiful dark brown eyes.

"Deni, it's really you!" Michael exclaimed. "Sorry I haven't called before now--"

"It's okay, life's been hectic, I wouldn't have been able to talk long anyway," she told him. "And I hate to say it, but I'm kind of busy right now too."

Taylor looked up.

"Oh." Michael sounded disappointed. "Well, call me back later then?"

"Definitely. Bye."

"Bye, Den. Love you."

"Love you too." She flipped the phone shut and glanced back up at Taylor. "Okay, where were we?"

"Who's Michael?"

"A friend of mine," she answered shortly, brushing it aside. "You know about variables, right?"

"No," he answered, "I have no idea what a variable is, and is he really just a friend?"

She looked up. "You don't know what a variable is?"

"Stop changing the subject."

"I'm not. I mean--everybody knows what a variable is."

"Well, I don't. And you still didn't answer me."

"Yes, he's just a friend, okay? Maybe he wanted more, but I didn't want a long-distance relationship."

"So you like him." His voice was flat.

"God, Taylor, you act like you're jealous. Let's just get back to math, okay? Here." She wrote 2a + 3b when a=3 and b=7 on a piece of paper. "We'll start really simple. You know how to do that, right?"

"I never understood how the hell you were supposed to add letters," he grumbled. "And I thought you were smarter than that."

"Smarter than what?"

"I act like I'm jealous," he echoed. "Seriously, Denise."

"Deni."

"What?"

"Call me Deni."

"Deni. Whatever. Isn't it obvious why I'm jealous?"

"Taylor, just do the math problem."

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not doing the problem until you answer the fucking question."

She stared at him. "Don't talk to me like that, Taylor." She stood up, shoved her book into her bag, and slung it over her shoulder. "I'm here to tutor you, not go over my personal life."

"Denise, sit down--"

"No." She stormed out of his house, rolling her eyes. He had to learn to be more courteous. They said you couldn't change a man, but by God was she going to try.