Teenage Millionaire

Chapter 32: Interpret

"Were your parents there?" He asks when I come back out. He's returned to his usual smug swagger while I was in my house, I can see. I'm still feeling a little heavy from the conversation- and I also have questions.

He didn't finish his sentence, before he asked what I would accept daily, and now I'm curious as to what he was going to say. He didn't- what? He wanted me to be able to- what? And why was it so important to him to pay me? Because he's grateful that I stayed at his house on Saturday, when he was in what his mom called a 'not-the-best mood'? Or is he really concerned that my parents will be mad at me? In which case, why would he care so much? Does he actually like me, like Raymond suggested, or does he want something from me and doesn't want me blaming him for my parent's anger?

He doesn't show any signs of even having the conversation, much less the fact that he addressed something he doesn't seem to usually address. "Do you have your homework? Wouldn't want to ruin your perfect record and have to come up with another cover story again."

I roll my eyes at him. "Yes, I have my homework. And if I forgot it, that would be on me, not you, so I wouldn't let you cover for me."

He hums a little as I get into the car, putting my backpack at my feet. He reverses out of my driveway and turns onto the road to the school. "I do have really good cover stories, though. I think Dr. Love favours you even more than before."

"None of the teachers favour me. They just appreciate that I do my homework and study."

"I'll bet that even if you were late turning in your homework assignments, none of the teachers would dock you marks, because you're 'usually such a good student'."

"I'm not testing that theory."

He flashes me a toothy smirk. "So you concede?"

"No, I'm just not willing to hang the fate of my 'perfect record', as you call it, on your assumption."

"You're not willing to bet your perfect record on your perfect record?"

I roll my eyes. "I'm not willing to bet my perfect record on anything but my own hard work."

"Very self-sufficient of you," he comments as he pulls up in front of the school. Already, people are whispering as they see me in his passenger seat. I try to shrink down, but it's too late. I look at him, and he's smirking, as usual.

"Don't worry. If you look less guilty, then it won't be as big of a deal."

"What if the teachers hear that I came to school with you? They'll think I did something- I don't know, that they'd think you'd do!"

"What do they think I do?"

"Who knows! Nobody knows anything about you!"

"You do."

"I'm not going to just start telling everyone. That'd be rude to you, and no one would even believe me."

He rolls his eyes. "Don't worry. I'll make sure none of the teachers think that you joined a gang or graffitied a building over the weekend."

I blink at him. "Really?"

He opens his car door and gets out. "I covered for your tardy with Dr. Love, didn't I? Now come on. And stop looking so sheepish. Tip: stop thinking about what the teachers will think, and focus on what the students will think."

I get out of the car as well, confused. "Why? What will the students think?"

He settles an arm around my shoulder and leans in a little as we walk towards the school. "That you're not the teacher's pet anymore."