Boy of the Week
BOY OF
THE
WEEK
by
EMILY CAMP
Books by Emily Camp
Running Back
Overcome
Running on Empty
Running Forever
A Homecoming to Forget
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and events are from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to any person, event or places is purely a coincidence.
Text copyright ©2020 Emily Camp
Cover design by Emily Camp
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Acknowledgements
Chapter One
I was called into Mr. Radcliffe, the school counselor’s office in the middle of October. I had a feeling this was coming. I hoped somehow, that it would get overlooked.
“Kacey,” he smiled up at me as if this were a friendly visit. “I’m sure you know why you’re here.” He pulled out a file folder from under a scatter of papers.
I shrugged. Yes, I knew exactly why. He motioned for me to sit. As I eased into the scratchy chair on the opposite side of his cluttered desk, I studied the banner on the wall behind him. 1999 State Champions. The football team he and my dad were on the first and only time our school held that title.
“How are you failing phys ed?” He leaned forward. His large arms taking up most of the desk. Nothing like cutting right to the chase, Mr. R.
“Not everyone’s an athlete,” I propped my elbow up on the chair’s armrest.
He shook his head and glanced down at the paper. “You have a D in science and in English. You’re failing geometry. We’re only six weeks into the school year.”
“I thought I was okay.” Truth be told, I just had way too many other things to think about than my grades. Jesse broke up with me for Maria Sanchez right before school started. Then there was Carson, the gamer. He was sweet and shy. But when Leo and his girlfriend broke, he wanted to switch lab partners. He became mine. I dumped Carson for him. That only lasted long enough for him and his ex-girlfriend to get starring roles in the fall musical, Grease, together. When Danny and Sandy got back together, so did Leo and Emma. I had a brief fling with a senior, Nolan Sams. He took me on a date, we made out in his car, when he tried to unzip my jeans, I wouldn’t let him. The next day he told everyone we did way more than kiss.
“You’ve missed three biology labs.” Mr. Radcliffe’s deep voice brought me out of my thoughts.
“My lab partner is gross.” Yeah, I skipped a few because of the Leo drama and the hygiene issues of my original partner.
“That’s not nice.” Mr. Radcliffe said as if I was in kindergarten.
“He smells like rotten cheese.” I held my hand to my nose. “And he picks his nose.”
He leaned back then glanced up at his banner. The banner that had my dad’s and his names on it. “What would your dad say?”
I lifted a shoulder. “If you talk to him, let me know.”
Mr. Radcliffe’s large shoulder’s drooped. “Still MIA?”
He wasn’t meaning missing-in-action as in war or anything. It was more like he was AWOL. My dad was far from a hero. I hadn’t heard from him in six months. Not that he had been a hands-on dad since he and my mom divorced when I was twelve anyway.
“I’m sorry,” he frowned.
What did he have to be sorry about? It wasn’t like it was his fault my dad was a deadbeat.
“You know if you need to talk … I’m always here. Not just as because I’m getting paid to be your counselor.”
“Yeah.” I didn’t need a therapist. I just needed to be able to continue doing what I was doing. I was over it. It wasn’t like I expected my dad to be here. He left, there wasn’t anything I or anyone else could do to change that. I was fine.
“But these grades, Kacey,” he held my folder between his thick sausage-like fingers, “I know you can do better.”
I shrugged and bounced my heel off the floor.
“Your English teacher says that you don’t engage.”
Like I wanted to talk about hundred-year-old stories. How was I supposed to relate to them? Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed a good story myself. Just not ancient ones that were barely written in English.
“And this geometry grade.” He flipped open the file.
“I don’t understand geometry.” That was true.
He tilted his head, a frown in the middle of the scruff on his plump face. “You know you have to go to Educational Support.”
“What?” I tilted my head as if I didn’t hear. Even though I had a feeling this might be coming.
“It’s a new policy this year. More than one D ... You signed the paper acknowledging this.” He pulled a page out of the folder.
“I did?” I leaned forward. He pointed to my signature where it said if more than one grade went below a D, that I would have to go to Educational Support during my study hall every day. I could not lose my study hall. Study hall was when I gave my brain a break or napped if needed. But more importantly, that was where I saw Dylan. Dylan Andrews and I had been talking. I couldn’t vanish from study hall just when we were about to go out.
“Does it have to be every study hall?” Maybe if it was only a few days a week. That seemed fair.
“Until you bring your grades up,” he said as he signed a green sheet of paper. Then jutted his arm out, handing it to me, “Give this to Miss Deeter when you get to there, she’ll pair you with a tutor.”
I yanked the paper out of his hand as I stood and tucked it into my backpack. I knew nothing was going to get me out of this, but still, I huffed as I left his office letting him know what an inconvenience it was.
Chapter Two
The sign read Educational Support. The room was in the basement as if to keep the stupid from spreading. I didn’t belong here in ES. I reluctantly opened the door and stepped inside. There were several different round tables with two or three chairs. Some were already occupied. There was a low murmur in the room though the bell hadn’t rung yet.
“Hello Kacey.” Miss Deeter greeted me with an enthusiastic smile. She was always so happy. Sometimes I wondered if she was on something. “What do you need help with today?”
I handed her the slip from Mr. Radcliffe, all crumpled from being shoved in my backpack without a care.
“Oh,” she said glancing at it, then quickly covered her surprise at me failing nearly half of my classe
s. “Okay, let me see.” She walked over to the large desk in the corner and opened a three-ring binder and ran her long, pink fingernail down the page. “I have the perfect tutor for you.” She looked up and scanned the room. “Is Jack here yet?”
“Not yet,” came from a table in the back.
“Go ahead and take a seat at table two and I’ll send him over when he gets here.” Table two was front-and-center, right beside the door. I would prefer to hide in the back of the room, but at least here if I needed to bolt, I could get away quickly.
I tried not to look around too much as I made my way to the table. Cody Langdon waved at me from across the room. I waved back though it was humiliating being here. I wasn’t sure if he was a tutor or failing like me. He was Dylan’s best friend. I sat by him in third period Spanish class. We always got in trouble for talking.
Maria Sanchez looked at me and rolled her eyes. I was sure she was a tutor. She was a straight A-student. This was even more embarrassing now. What did she have to roll her eyes at me about anyway? It wasn’t like I was the one who stole her boyfriend.
I pulled out my notebook and a couple pencils. Maybe if I looked like I was prepared, my tutor would know that I didn’t belong here and would tell that to Mr. Radcliffe. The bell rang and I sat staring at the wall. I didn’t want to look at the rest of the room, where the tables were already filled with one tutor and one failure each. This felt like a waste of my time.
“Sorry I’m late.” I heard a deep voice say.
“You’re at table two today, Jack,” Said Miss Deeter. I turned to see a tall skinny boy with glasses at Miss Deeter’s desk. He looked toward my table, but not at me. A few others glanced up from their work.
“Hey Jack,” Cody waved at the tutor headed my way.
Maria smiled when she looked at him. Her eyes followed him as he walked by. He didn’t seem to even notice her. I thought about flirting with him just to tick her off. But when he sat down beside me, his chair squealed, and he tossed his backpack on the table with a thud bringing the attention of the entire room on us. I glanced over my shoulder at the eyes peering our way. I then looked back at him, letting my brunette hair dangle over the side of my face that was pointed toward the crowd as if they didn’t already know who I was. He was even noisy when he picked up the slip from Mr. Radcliffe, crinkling the paper and peering through his dark-framed-hipster glasses. His brown hair was styled in a front poof. The top two buttons of his shirt undone. A white t-shirt peeked out of the top. Around his neck was a lanyard, his student ID hanging from it.
He looked up at me for a second and said, “I’m Jack,” then glanced at the paper again. He blew a gust of air out after puffing his cheeks like a chipmunk. “Where do you want to start?”
When I didn’t answer, he said, “How about geometry?”
He slid closer to me, making the chair squeak, again. I preferred my personal space, another reason why this was going to be annoying.
“Show me what you’re working on,” his shoulder touched mine.
“Uh …” I leaned in closer, even though my personal space had already been invaded, I didn’t want anyone else to hear … “I honestly don’t know where we are.”
He looked at me stone-faced as if I was joking, but he didn’t think it was funny. Then he said. “Okay, what are you working on in …” he looked down at the paper “Science?”
“Dunno.”
“English?”
I scratched below my nose.
“I can’t help you with phys ed.”
They had phys ed on there even though a tutor was not going to help me bring that grade up?
“Okay, let’s start with the basics. You do know how to open a book, don’t you?”
I glared at him. What a jerk.
“Looking at this grade …” he squinted at the slip and tilted it.
“Are you here to help or judge?”
He looked at me through those dorky glasses, then nodded at my textbook. “Open.” He commanded as if I was a dog.
I had to bite the inside of my lip to keep myself from telling him off. I flipped my book open harder than I needed to. Making a loud thump. Everyone looked up again.
Oops.
It didn’t phase him. He took my notebook and pulled it toward him. A stubby yellow pencil in hand. He began to talk and scribble on my paper. I had no clue what he was going on about. Soon, I zoned out. After he droned on for what felt like forever, my phone buzzed. I had to look at it, because if not, I wouldn’t be able to think of anything else and that would defeat my purpose for being here.
It was a message from Dylan. His face with his wide white smile and big greenish-blue eyes peered at me on the screen. Where are you my study hall buddy?
I smiled and began to type a reply when a hand slapping the table made me jump.
“Are you listening?”
“Yeah.” I said lowering my phone in my lap. It’d been under the table the entire time. I wasn’t that rude.
“Really? Because it looks like you’re more interested in what Dylan Andrews has to say.”
I put my phone in my back pocket without sending a reply. “It’s rude to read someone’s texts.”
“It’s rude to waste my time.” He motioned to the paper.
Because I didn’t have a good comeback, I just rolled my eyes.
“Can we get back to work now?” He said.
“Yep.” I rested my hand on my cheek and yawned. Who cared about triangles, unless they were love triangles, anyway?
Then I began to think about the show I’d been watching online, and wondered if Lucas was going to end up with Peyton or Brooke. I wish I was one of them.
“Tell me what type of triangle this is.” He pointed at the paper with the flattened eraser on the end of his pencil.
I knew enough not to say love.
“Is it a right triangle?” I had no clue.
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Can you tell me what makes it a right triangle?”
“Because that was the only one I could remember.” I lifted a shoulder.
He looked at me like I was the dumbest person on the planet.
“It’s not a wrong triangle?” I said slowly.
“It has a right angle. You should have learned this years ago.”
“I don’t remember.” That’s when a comeback from before came to me. “How can I be wasting your time if you’re going to be here tutoring someone anyway?”
“What?” He scratched the back of his head.
“You said I was rude for wasting your time.”
He didn’t say anything for a minute, just blinked his big brown eyes behind his glasses. “Can we just work?”
Ha, speechless. I had the last word.
“So, we have the right triangle, then there is the acute triangle. They are less than 90 degrees and an obtuse has an angle larger than 90 degrees.”
“Okay.” I looked at the clock on the wall, waiting for it to change.
“One way to remember, obtuse sounds similar to obese and obtuse is larger.”
“That’s horrible.”
“It’s just a mnemonic device.” He pushed his glasses up his nose with his pointer finger.
“What’s a neurotic device?” My brain was already starting to hurt.
“Mnemonic … it’s a memory technique to help your brain encode and recall important information.”
“Okay, now you lost me. What’s this have to do with math?”
He did not crack a smile. “Tomorrow, come prepared.”
“Yes Mr. What’s your last name again?”
He lifted up his lanyard and tapped his ID which read, Jack Landry under his stone-faced picture. “Landry.”
“Jack Landry with his lanyard.” I smiled at my joke. He didn’t. Still looking at me with a blank expression. Dang, did this guy not have a sense of humor? “I’m kidding, Lanyard. Do you ever crack a smile?”
Thankfully the bell rang, and I was free
to go.
“Remember bring your work next time.”
“Yes, Mr. Lanyard.” I said with a salute after I tossed my backpack on my back.
***
I was shoving my books in my locker when a pair of hands covered my eyes. I squealed before hearing the words, “Guess who?”
“Um … Braxton?” I said.
“No.”
“Owen?”
The voice was kind of raspy like Owen’s.
“Guess again.”
“Can you give me a hint?” I wasn’t sure who it was, but he did smell nice. Like soap.
“Study buddy.”
“Lanyard?” I said with surprise. He was so dull earlier.
“Who’s Lanyard?” the voice asked, uncovering my eyes.
I turned to see Dylan with his tousled, strawberry-blond hair.
He put a hand over his heart. “You skip one study hall and forget about me, that hurts.”
“I wish I skipped study hall.” I shrugged the almost-empty backpack over my shoulders again. “I have been banished to educational support.”
“What are you failing?”
“Pretty much everything.”
“Everything huh?” Dylan tossed an arm around my shoulders, waving at people as we strolled by. “Do you have to try to do that?”
“I’m glad someone finally understands how hard I work at failing.” The halls were thinning out quickly.
“Where you headed now?” He tipped his head to the side, his smile crooked as he looked at me.
“The bus so I can go home and not study. Hence the empty backpack.” I tapped the straps for emphasis.
He let out a loud laugh. “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”
“That would be awesome.” It wasn’t that I didn’t have my license. It was that my mom was a single parent of me and my brother and therefore, not able to afford to fix my car which was currently sitting out of commission in our driveway.
Dylan had me in stitches by the time he dropped me off. His hand might have grazed my leg on purpose or it could have been an accident. He did play if off like it was. Never-the-less, it sent butterflies in my stomach. I think I was addicted to butterflies.
“Do you want to do something this weekend?” He asked, leaning into me.