Extra Credit | Complete

30

Calista

Tuesdays were days that I went to Lincoln's house for tutoring.

They were the one day he didn't have any classes scheduled. Me coming over saved him a bus ride to campus with Sadie in tow. And it gave me a change of scenery as well. It had been a  couple of weeks since I went to Lincoln's match and things had fallen into a steady rhythm between us. We still hadn't talked about the kiss. But at least the night at The Underground broke the awkward spell that was casted around us.

Thanksgiving was coming up. That meant we only had a small amount of time until exams were upon us. For that reason, we were kicking studying into overdrive—meeting three times a week to cover the entirety of Hamilton's anatomy course. Hamilton was notorious for his detail-oriented, cumulative exams.

"What is the origin of the erector spinae?" I called out from my position on the living room couch. My legs were crossed, a pillow resting in my lap with my notes.

Lincoln was on the carpet between the couch and the coffee table in a push-up position. Since he didn't have any heavy workout equipment at home, we settled on workouts using body weight. It worked well enough, but it took us much longer to get Lincoln to a place where he could focus. Something I noticed about Lincoln was that his mind was at its most permeable when his body was exhausted. 

Lincoln's arms rippled under the tight fabric of his t-shirt. "The spinal processes."

"Excellent. Last question," I said, scanning over a page in my notebook. "What is the action of the erector spinae group?"

"To move the vertebral column."

"In which way?"

Lincoln grunted. I could tell his muscles were on fire by the slight tremor in his arms. "Seriously?"

"Which way?" I repeated. "Explain to me how they move the vertebral column and you're done."

Lincoln panted, taking a pause at the top of his pushup before lowering himself to the carpeted floor. "It's a bilateral contraction."

I shut the book with a bang, grinning at the back of his head. "Correct! Okay, you can stop now."

Lincoln dropped to the floor, rolling onto his back and throwing his arms and legs out like a starfish. "Everything hurts."

"You're sweaty," Sadie informed him by her spot at the coffee table. A small bin or crayons sat next to the picture she had been working on.

"Thanks for the heads up," Lincoln muttered. He pulled a deep breath in through his nose, closing his eyes.

"I think that was one of your best sessions yet," I said from my spot on the couch. "Do you think the recording I sent you helped?"

Last week I began sending Lincoln short recordings or videos explaining course material. He started listening to them while out on his jogs. As much as he complained about it, I could see the difference it was making in our sessions.

Lincoln pulled himself into a sitting position. He braced his arms behind him, propping himself up.

"I think so," he said, brushing his hair back and out of his face. "It's not better than listening to music, but I can live with it."

"Good," I grinned. "I think it's really making a difference."

Lincoln wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. "I'm going to go take a shower. Could you keep an eye on Sadie for a few minutes?"

"Of course," I said as I packed up the notes we had been using.

"I'll be right back."

As Lincoln left the room he began to slip his t-shirt over his head. His smooth, olive skin came into view—thick muscle coiling around his back and shoulders. I forced myself to look away. The heat I felt when he had kissed me the other week threatened to return.

I focused on piling my things back into my bag. Lusting over Lincoln was not what I needed to be doing. Especially when he still had so many walls up around me. We had made amazing progress in our friendship—huge actually. But I didn't want to push things.

No longer wanting to dwell on our situationship, I went to join Sadie at the coffee table. She sat on a short stack of pillows that Lincoln crafted for her. Her little tongue poked out over her bottom lip as she focused. I lowered myself down next to her, leaning on my forearms.

"Hey Sadie, what'cha drawing?"

"A picture for Mommy."

I peeked over her scribbling hand. "And what are you drawing for her?"

Sadie coloured in a grassy hill, taking extra care to stay in the lines. "A nice house. One for me, and Mommy, and Lincoln to live in."

"A nice house? But you and Mommy and Lincoln already live in a nice house," I pointed out in a gentle voice. "You don't like it?"

It was an older home; a little run down. But so were the rest of the houses in this part of the city. It was a mature neighbourhood with not many young families around. But Sadie was inching towards five years old. I didn't think she cared too much about any of that. Most preschoolers wouldn't even be aware of those kinds of things.

Her shoulders rose up next to her ears before falling.

I analyzed her drawing, taking note of the big house on a hill. There were trees and birds with a large, yellow sun in the sky. On the hill there were three stick figures etched onto the page. I assumed they represented each member of her family.

"Are you going to add some flowers to your garden?" I said, pointing to an empty space beside the house.

Sadie shook her head, still colouring away.

"Why not? Don't you like flowers?"

"Sometimes," she replied. But she didn't elaborate.

"Do you think they're pretty? I'm sure Mommy loves flowers."

"No, she doesn't."

"Why not?"

I frowned when she shrugged, not knowing what to ask next. A moment later her soft voice met my ears. "Sometimes flowers aren't very nice."

"Why aren't they nice?" I said, resting my head in my palm.

"'Cause sometimes bad things happen when you get flowers."

It was at that moment that I realized I'd never been so perplexed by a child. Not even the complex things Harper droned on about at times had my mind reeling like this. Sadie seemed knowledgeable beyond her years—like she'd already seen so much in her short time of being on this planet.

And that thought scared me.

I was about to ask her another question, to clear up the riddle about flowers when I took notice of her drawing again. She had added a new shadowy figure. It was on the far left of the page, away from everyone else, lurking from behind some trees. As Sadie shuffled through the crayon bin I inspected the figure further. There were no identifiers to it. No hair, no face, no clothes. Nothing.

"Sadie, who's this?" I placed my finger on her drawing, reaching over her small hand.

Without looking up from the page, she uttered two words that I wasn't expecting to hear.

"A monster."

* * * * *

author's note:

Sorry for the short update! I promise Friday's update will be much meatier (: 

I hope you're having a wonderful week so far!