✖ Chapter 11 ✖

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PART TWO: THE LONGEST JOURNEY STARTS WITH A SINGLE STEP

We both sat across from Mr. Davies like we'd committed a crime. Or maybe that was just me. I wasn't used to having to share my favorite teacher with the school's favorite delinquent.

Said teacher smiled at Sawyer and me like he was pleased as punch. "So, how are you both this fine Monday?"

I had to admit Sawyer's expression was a work of art. He looked like a mix between pissed off and nauseated. My face probably wasn't any better. Seeing this, Mr. Davies decided to skip our answers and soldiered forward like a champ.

He clapped once and leaned forward. "First of all, I have to say I'm really happy you've both decided to give this experiment a try. I think it's going to be great for all of us."

I thought of the glowing recommendation letter he and Mr. Jones were going to write for me in a month, took a deep breath and smiled. I could do this. I sat up straighter and put my hands on my lap.

"We won't disappoint," I said. Sawyer snorted.

"So what's this gonna be like?" he asked, leaning back and spreading his legs like he was in his living room. I kicked his leg slightly, but he didn't pick up on the hint. He ran a hand through his unkept hair and I wondered if he'd ever get a haircut. "A couple of tutoring sessions, and that's it?"

It almost seemed like Mr. Davies had been waiting for this very question.

"Nothing so simple, Mr. Logan. The fact of the matter is that you moved on from junior year to senior by the sheer force of a miracle. And you can't bank on another miracle pulling you past the failure line again this year, because senior year is pretty challenging."

I cleared my throat. "Um, wait. What was this miracle that you're talking about?" After all, one didn't just go from flunking every class to suddenly passing the final exams and I'd always wondered if it was just that the school took pity on him and moved him forward a year. They certainly wouldn't be the first or last to give Sawyer any favors.

"Sawyer here is a bit of a genius," as Mr. Davies said, both Sawyer and I frowned at him. "The biggest reasons why he's always in trouble is tardiness, detention and the fact that he simply doesn't do his homework. But he does well enough in exams."

I unleashed the power of my frown on the so called genius. He avoided it like the plague.

"Marshall," he addressed Mr. Davies by his given name and the latter didn't seem the least bit bothered by it. Were they close? Since when? This was a new development for me.

Sawyer continued, "Don't oversell me. The princess is going to get weird ideas."

I gasped. "Don't you dare call me that in front of a teacher!"

"What I'd really like," our teacher said without minding my outburst one bit, looking at Sawyer like only he mattered. "Is for you to stop under selling yourself. You have a lot of potential that you're not meeting because you just don't want to."

What the heck? It was like Mr. Davies did this thing for Sawyer all along, not for me.

Outrageous.

I opened and closed my mouth, trying to get a word in this conversation but holding myself back, because I knew anything that spilled out was not going to be good. I understood what I was feeling. Jealousy. Betrayal. And consciously I also knew I didn't have a right to feel this way. It wasn't like Mr. Davies was only my counselor. He worked with the entire student body. Sawyer was part of the student body. Even if for four years I'd never actually seen him study once.

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