Chapter 5
Lacey
T J and I have never been alone together before.
Well, there was that time he trapped me in the bathroom at Munchie’s, but even then, our friends weren’t far. This is the first time it’s going to be just the two of us, and I don’t know how I feel about it.
There’s something about him I find intimidating. And by something, I mean his good looks.
He’s still an asshole, though .
I only get Fridays off because I work weekends and three nights a week at the café, so you best believe I changed into the most comfortable pair of sweatpants I own from the moment I got home from school. I don’t care that TJ’s coming over. I’d rather hop in the shower and cuddle with my toaster than wear jeans today.
I drop on my couch with my calculus textbooks. I spent all of last night color-coding the best exercises in there with stickers and Post-its. I need to figure out TJ’s level, and then once I’ve identified the source of his difficulty, I can work on a plan to get his grades back up.
I’m just glad my siblings aren’t coming home from school until later today. I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.
I put my reading glasses on and flip through the pages of the textbook as I wait. He was supposed to be here five minutes ago.
I’m not against giving him the benefit of the doubt, but I’m using my only day off to get his GPA back on track. If he’s not going to take it seriously, he might as well tell me now.
I’m halfway through the book when there’s a loud knock on the front door.
I check my phone as I make a beeline for the entrance of the house and open the door to find TJ standing on my porch, a black gym bag dangling from his shoulder. His dark, messy hair is wet, like he just got out of the shower, and I assume he had basketball practice beforehand.
His brown eyes rake over my body from the moment I open the door, and his lips twitch up as he takes in my attire. My hair is up in a loose bun, I’m wearing a big T-shirt with oversized round glasses, and my sweats are so faded you can barely tell they used to be black.
He bites back a laugh. “Dressed to impress.”
I should slam the door in his face, but a deal’s a deal.
“You’re late.”
“And you’re in a shit mood for a girl who’s got a hot date tomorrow night,” he points out.
I pause, replaying what he just said. “How do you know about that?”
Aaron and I texted a little bit after the milkshake disaster. I agreed to go out with him, but he didn’t answer the text I sent him yesterday asking if we were still on.
TJ shrugs. “The new guy told me.”
“Really? Because he didn’t tell me . He never replied to my text.”
“Probably because he dropped his phone in Heather’s hot tub two days ago.”
Oh.
I have to say I’m relieved he’s not ghosting me. Although he’s not completely off the hook just yet. I’m having a hard time believing that, despite all the technologies available to him, he couldn’t find another way to contact me.
It hits me a few seconds later.
“Wait, did you say Heather?”
He reads me loud and clear. “I wouldn’t worry about it. They’ve been on one date.”
If there’s one thing I’m not interested in, it’s competing with another girl for a guy’s attention. I’d rather take myself out of the equation than be one of Aaron’s options.
“Whatever. Let’s get this over with.” I step aside, and TJ breezes past me.
I’ve just closed the door when he says, “Your place is a lot smaller than I imagined.”
His bluntness takes me aback.
“It’s called being poor.” I set out toward the living room. “Follow me.”
“Aren’t your folks loaded?” he asks.
“They are. I’m not.” I sit cross-legged on the couch. TJ drops down next to me. “We’re going to start with a few basic exercises so I can figure out what’s not clicking for you.”
My words go through one ear and out the other. “Why aren’t your parents helping you out?”
I hesitate to tell him, but then I think screw it. The faster I satisfy his curiosity, the faster we can get started.
“Let’s just say my mom doesn’t approve of my—” I pause. “—life choices.”
“You mean because you’re taking care of your dad’s kids?”
I’m surprised he knows about that.
The only people who know about Sierra and Oli are the girls, Finn, Xavier, and Theo. He must’ve asked around about me because I don’t exactly go around telling random jocks about my dad’s tragic passing.
“Not my dad’s kids. My siblings ,” I correct him.
“From what I heard, your mom hated his guts. How come you don’t?”
Nosy much?
My heart hurts a pinch. “She hates him for leaving her, but he was always a good dad to me.”
“Wait, so he left her, but he was still a part of your life?”
I nod. “Of course.”
I don’t know much about TJ. I mean, aside from the fact that he lives with his sister in a bad part of town, but he sounded surprised to hear that just because you leave your partner doesn’t automatically mean you’re going to walk out on your kids.
“What about you? What’s your story?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer right away, doubt stamped across his face. Then he grabs the textbook on my coffee table. “We should get to work.”
I consider pushing him for answers but end up dropping it. I don’t need to know. I’m just here to tutor him.
“You’re right.” I take the book from his hand and flip to the first math problem I’ve selected.
“I need a break,” I declare two and a half hours later. I didn’t think tutoring TJ would be easy, but man, I also didn’t think it would be this hard. I can’t get him to focus and stay focused for the life of me.
And it’s not because he doesn’t understand what I’m saying. When he does pay attention, he catches on quickly. He just seems preoccupied most of the time. Whatever has got him so distracted must be something important.
I head for the kitchen with TJ on my tail. “Can I get you something to drink? I have some lemonade in the fridge.”
I made it when I was meal prepping for my siblings’ lunches this week, along with a few casseroles and homemade pizza.
I was trying to be polite, but TJ must not give a flying shit about politeness because he doesn’t even answer.
“TJ?” I press.
His head snaps up. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I said, do you want some lemonade?”
“Sure, yeah,” he says absentmindedly.
Is this how it’s always going to be? Me bending over backward to keep his attention?
I stop dead, turning to look at him. “Okay, what’s going on?”
He raises an eyebrow at me as though he has no idea what I’m talking about.
“You’ve been distracted since we started. It’s like I’m talking to a wall,” I call him out. “Just tell me if this is how it’s always going to be because there’s no way this is going to work if you’re not putting in any effort.”
“You’re right, I’m sorry. My head’s not in it today.”
“What is it?”
He shrugs it off. “Doesn’t matter.”
I move closer to him, staring him dead in the eye to make sure my words are registering.
“Look, you don’t like talking about personal shit, I get it. But I hate wasting my time, so either you tell me and we find a way to move past it, or our little arrangement is over.”
He seems to weigh his options.
Then, a heavy sigh leaves his mouth. “It’s my sister. She might be getting kicked out of school.”
Now we’re getting somewhere .
I grab two glasses out of the kitchen cupboard. “You mean the girl I saw at your house?”
He gives a small nod, leaning against the kitchen counter as he watches me open the fridge and pull out the jug of lemonade I made yesterday.
“What’d she do?” I try another question.
He scoffs. “What didn’t she do? She’s skipping classes, lying to me, hanging out with low-life losers. She’s been like this since my mom went away…” He stops himself, and I get the sense that he’s said too much. “… for work .”
I have a sneaking suspicion that last part isn’t true, but I don’t mention it, nodding along to his story.
“I don’t know how to handle this. I’m not equipped to be a fucking parent,” he adds.
Been there.
When I first became my siblings’ guardian, all I did was doubt myself.
Hell, I still do.
I’ve just gotten better at pretending.
“What about your dad? Can’t he help?” I ask.
His features twitch with irritation. “Bastard left when I was young. We never heard from him again.”
Ah. That explains his reaction earlier. His dad didn’t just leave his mom. He left everyone.
“That sucks, I’m sorry.”
My answer makes him cringe. “Don’t be. He was a deadbeat anyway.”
I nod, pouring lemonade into his glass. I’ve just handed it to him when he asks, “So… you ready for your date tomorrow?”
“I guess,” I lie.
“Where’s he taking you?”
I take a sip of lemonade. “We’re going for coffee.”
He makes a face.
I narrow my eyes. “What? What’s wrong with a coffee date?”
He plops down onto one of the chairs around my dining table. “Nothing. It’s just… low effort.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And why is that?”
“It’s the date you go on when you’re not sure you actually like the person enough to want to have a full meal with them, aka the date of choice for people you’ve never met before. Online dating and shit. Not for people you’ve met in person. You should know if you’re into them already.”
My mouth falls.
Shit, is he right ?
Aaron suggested we go for coffee, and I didn’t think twice about it. But if TJ’s right, it means he’s not sure if he’s interested in me.
“So, Aaron’s not into me, then?”
“Not necessarily. You could be the exception, but if you ask me, he’s giving himself an out. In case he needs to run for the hills mid-date. Or pull the bathroom trick.”
I join him at the table, dropping on the chair across from his. “What’s the bathroom trick?”
He looks at me like he’s not sure if I’m kidding. “You don’t know the bathroom trick?”
The expression on my face must be answer enough because he lets out a laugh.
“Damn, Mattson. You’ve got a lot to learn.”
Do I? I used to consider myself pretty decent, if not good, at this whole dating thing, but this is making me wonder if my yearlong celibacy’s turned me into a clueless idiot.
“I do not. I’m just not familiar with the bathroom trick, that’s all,” I argue.
He cocks an eyebrow as though he’s not buying it and thinks on his answer for a second. “Fine. The bathroom trick is when you’re on a bad date, so you excuse yourself to the bathroom, but then you just never come back.”
Ouch. People really do that?
“And if you’re thinking sometimes you have a clear shot of the exit, so they can’t leave without you seeing them, I promise you they aren’t above sneaking out the bathroom window.”
My confidence in the male species is increasing by the second.
“Speaking from experience, I assume?”
I wouldn’t be surprised to hear TJ pulled the bathroom trick himself. He seems like the kind of guy who could easily abandon a girl on a first date.
“Nice try, but this isn’t about me,” he deflects.
I snort out a laugh. “That’s a yes.”
He doesn’t deny it. “Any other questions?”
“Yes, one. Why not just come clean? Say something like, ‘Hey, you seem really nice, but I don’t think this is going to work out’?” I ask.
He laughs. “You poor, innocent little thing.”
I frown. “What?”
“Dating 101: if there’s any way people can avoid an uncomfortable situation, they’re going to take it. Every single time, without fail.”
I slouch into my seat. “So, what? They just sneak out and then never speak to that person again?”
He nods. “Yeah. That or make up an excuse. Which brings me to our next lesson. Ghosting. I can assume you’re familiar with the concept?”
Of course I am. I might be single, but I haven’t been living under a rock.
I nod. “What about it?”
“Have you ever been ghosted before?”
All the time. When I was in high school, Theo wouldn’t answer most of my messages and only got back to me when he was horny. It didn’t stop me, though. It only made me want him more. Makes me sick just thinking about how much disrespect I accepted.
“Once or twice,” I lie.
“All right. Then you know how much it sucks when it first happens, but then, nine times out of ten, once you look back, you’ll realize silence is better than someone rejecting you to your face.”
“I disagree. I think it would sting at first, but getting a clear explanation is better than wondering forever why they didn’t want you,” I counter.
“No, see, that’s what we tell ourselves, but we really don’t need to know why they didn’t want us. It’ll only fuck us up in the long run. For example, if they bring up something you’ve never liked about yourself, like a physical trait, it’ll only feed into that insecurity and make it humiliating. And even if they do give you a reason, odds are it’s a lie to spare your feelings.”
My mouth drops.
Shit, is he right?
I’ve definitely rejected people before with an excuse because sometimes the truth would be too cruel to share.
“Plus, rejection is not even really about you. It all depends on the person’s taste in a partner, their values, their own insecurities, but in the grand scheme of things, that’s just one insignificant person’s opinion. Take ghosting as someone doing you a favor and thank the universe for taking the trash out.”
I’d never seen it that way before. There was a time where I would’ve done anything to get a reason out of Theo. I told myself I needed to know why I wasn’t dating material, but at the end of the day, he just didn’t think young me was good enough to date, which, of course, he never told me, but if he had, it would’ve destroyed what was left of my self-esteem.
“Next lesson, making conversation. You need to ask your date questions, but not too many. Think of it as taking turns. If you ask a question, and they answer it, then it’s on them to either say what about you or to ask another question. This way, you’ll know quickly if they’re the kind of person who only likes to talk about themselves or if they genuinely want to know more about you.”
“But what if they don’t ask a question back? Just sit there in silence?”
“Yes. Learn to get comfortable with that awkward silence. I know you’ll be tempted to fill it with small talk, but you shouldn’t because let’s say you’re someone who has great conversation skills. You might get confused and think you had a great time when really, it was you carrying that conversation. And they were just doing the bare minimum. You want someone who makes an effort.”
Wow. Am I insane, or is TJ actually making sense right now?
“And we need to talk about your rambling. You ramble way too much,” he declares.
I could deny it, but considering he had a front-row seat to me telling Aaron he would be a good person to stalk, I would be wasting my breath.
“How do I fix it?”
“If you get nervous, try counting to three in your head before you start talking. Just to give yourself a chance to sort out your thoughts.”
That sounds simple enough.
“Oh, and make eye contact when they’re talking. Shows you’re really listening. And it’ll make you seem confident.”
“But what if I’m not confident?”
“Fake it. He doesn’t have to know.”
“Okay, so count to three, make eye contact. What else?”
“I think that pretty much covers the first date.” He stops to think. “Now, what are you going to wear?”
“I’m not sure. I was thinking something comfortable, laid-back. I’ll figure it out later.”
“Yeah, no. I’m going to need to see some options.” He rises from his seat and takes off in the direction of my bedroom. “Bedroom’s this way?”
Well… looks like later came a lot earlier than I thought.
“Not even if you paid me,” I deadpan, assessing the outfit my “dating coach” laid out on my bed.
TJ grabs the black dress he picked out and brings it to the front of my body as if to get a better idea of how it would fit me. He’s been going through my closet for over ten minutes. “Why not? You’d look good in it. It’ll show off your…” He pauses. “… assets .”
I snort out a laugh. He means my tits and ass. Although, he gets an A for trying not to be too crude.
“He doesn’t need to see my assets. He’s taking me to a coffee place, not a stripper joint,” I oppose and rip the dress out of his hands to shove it back into my closet.
I haven’t worn that specific dress—a formfitting, especially short one—since I was in high school.
I was the captain of the cheerleading squad back then. A carefree, popular girl desperate to catch her crush’s attention. And it worked. I’d have Theo drooling all over me by the end of the party, but his desire was always short-lived, gone by the time the alcohol left his system.
“Fine, just don’t wear that.” He mocks my sweatpants and T-shirt. “Crazy cat lady isn’t your look.”
Irritation fuels the fuck you smile on my face. “No shit. I thought dirty sweatpants were perfect first-date attire.”
He doesn’t let my sarcasm bother him. “Now, what did we say about your rambling?”
His pop quiz irritates me. We went over this earlier.
“Count to three in my head before I speak. It’ll give me time to think about what I’m going to say next.”
“Good. And for the confidence thing?” he carries on with his questionnaire.
“Fake it until I make it.”
“And how are you going to do that?”
“Eye contact.”
“Good girl.”
TJ’s phone goes off in his pocket before I have a chance to answer. He plucks it out of his jeans to check the screen.
“Shit, I have to take it.”
TJ steps out of my bedroom into the hall and picks up the phone. I can’t hear what the person is saying, but I do hear what sounds like a woman’s voice.
Maybe it’s his sister’s school calling to let him know she’s done something?
“All right, I’m on my way,” TJ says, a hint of discouragement in his tone.
He’s back in my bedroom in no time. “I have to go. Thanks for the lesson.”
“I’d thank you, too, but I think I’ll wait and see if your advice is complete bullshit first.”
“Fine by me. It’ll give me time to make room in my house for the giant fucking gift basket you’re going to send me.”
I wrestle a grin. “We’ll see.”
I follow as TJ ambles to the living room to gather his things. He’s just walked out of the house when my phone chimes with a new message.
Aaron
Hey, Lacey. Sorry I didn’t reply before. I had to get a new phone. What time did you want to meet up tomorrow?