Chapter 16 – Waylon
chapter
sixteen
Waylon
The rain started around seven that night.
By eight, it hammered the tutoring center’s single window so hard that the glass shook in its frame. It was the kind of storm that made the air inside feel heavy and close.
I’d been watching Josie for an hour. Who was I kidding? I’d been watching her since she got here. She seemed better today, less teary.
The students would clear out by seven thirty, but we were on shift until ten.
She was at the table to my left, walking a sophomore named Tyler through a problem set.
The kid nodded like he understood and then asked the same question four different ways, and she had the patience of a goddamn saint.
She kept her voice low and evenly paced, each step explained twice.
Meanwhile, I was trying to focus on my own session with Drew, a freshman who needed help with Sports-Comm Theory and kept veering off into the men’s lacrosse team’s social media strategy.
“So do you think they should go with a highlight-reel format or more like behind-the-scenes content?” Drew asked.
“Both. What’s the main takeaway from chapter six?”
Drew looked at his notes.
I looked at Josie.
Seven thirty finally hit, and both students were done.
“Highlight reel for reach. Behind the scenes for retention. Write that down.”
The next hour was the longest of my life.
I thought about her at the lake. The way her eyes had gone glassy, and she’d wiped them fast with the back of her hand like if she did it quick enough it didn’t count. The way she’d said, “I keep thinking it’s me. Like I’m the problem.”
Like she was the problem. What bullshit was that?
At eight thirty, the other tutor, Patrick, packed up his bag and zipped his jacket.
“Nasty out there. Gonna get out before it gets worse. You guys good to close up?”
“We got it.” My voice came out flat enough that Patrick looked at me for a second before shrugging and heading out.
The door shut behind him, and then it was just the two of us and the sound of the rain hammering outside. I kept my hands flat on the table and waited.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
The storm hit the building like a shoulder check, and the window rattled in its frame.
The fluorescent light overhead flickered a couple of times, and then everything went dark.