We step inside. I put my bag in the hallway closet and motion Andy to the living room.
“It’s a nice place,” he says as he looks around for a moment.
There aren’t many options for rentals in Montpelier, but I got lucky. It’s a small one-bedroom apartment, but it’s plenty of space for me. It’s a bit on the older side, but that just means it has character. I especially love the exposed red-brick wall in the living room and the fact that the bedroom is separated from the living room with a book shelf instead of a solid wall. It makes the place seem bigger and airier.
“Do you want something to eat?” I ask as Andy sits down on my dark-blue couch and starts taking things out of his backpack.
He lifts his massive bag of candy and shakes it in my direction. “I’m good. Gotta finish these bad boys before I head home.”
I take a seat next to him on the couch. “Why can’t you eat them at home?”
He sighs and looks at the candy forlornly. “Falcon,” he says as if that one word explains everything. “He thinks it’s his mission to save my arteries from trans fats.”
“Ah,” I say. “How’s that going, by the way? Ready to confess your feelings yet?”
He throws me an annoyed glance. “But of course. I brought up the topic of my undying love yesterday during a house meeting. We voted on it, and then we fucked all night like two crazed rabbits.”
I’m going to ignore the uncomfortable feeling that squeezes my insides at the mention of Andy fucking somebody else.
“No, I haven’t told him,” Andy continues. “I still need to look the part before I go and throw myself at him. And with that in mind, let’s get to work.”
While we’ve been talking, Andy has laid out the contents of his bag. Holy shit, the guy has been busy. There are three textbooks, a spiral notebook, and a bunch of notecards. Everything is color coded and organized to death. He’s also brought some weird instruments with him that I’ve never seen before.
I’ve always considered myself a well-organized person, but compared to Andy I’m a slob who writes his notes on rolls of toilet paper that I store in a box, mixed with regular toilet paper.
In thirty minutes flat, I learn two things: first, Andy is a phenomenal teacher, and second, to be even halfway on his level during the actual tutoring session, I’m going to have to record everything Andy says and learn it by heart.
Andy looks all easygoing and laidback, but when it comes to teaching, he’s pretty strict. “Gotta know the basics,” he says as he hands me a paper with units of measurement on it.
We go over length, weight, time… and on and on it goes until my head swims. It’s made worse by the fact that, instead of the good old foot-pound-inch, there’s meter-kilogram-second. Then Andy makes me convert between different measurement systems. From there, we jump to scientific notation, because physicists love numbers that need a whole page to fit all the zeroes.
After a while, Andy seems to be happy with what we’ve covered so far. Since the guys are coming over tomorrow night, I feel fairly confident that I’ll be able to duplicate this lesson. I’ve got to hand it to Andy. He made an otherwise boring lesson just fly by. It’s only been about thirty minutes, and we’re already done. Andy has taught me the material, and he’s also checked and deemed my efforts of conversion satisfactory, and has had me parrot all of it back to him to see if I can be trusted with bestowing that knowledge onto our rookies. I’m impressed with his efficiency.
“And now, onto the first lesson,” Andy announces as he opens his laptop.
I do a double take. “Wait, that wasn’t the lesson?”
He stares at me like I’m nuts. “That was an introduction. I thought about skipping it, but I figured it would be better to go over it just in case. Shaw starts his class with the concept of speed, so that’s where we’re headed.”
I go and grab two bottles of water. This is going to be a long evening.
And it is, but to be honest, I don’t really think about the time because Andy, wonder of wonders, makes that topic interesting, too. He has video clips and real-life examples, and he gets so into the lesson he veers off topic more than once, explaining things like escape velocity. He almost knocks over my lamp as he gestures wildly while explaining why it’s necessary when traveling to Mars. From there he moves to challenges of inhabiting Mars and before either of us realizes it, it’s dark outside, and we’ve been at it for three hours.
We finish the chapter and I’m relatively confident that I can deliver at least the most important points of this lesson to the guys by using the examples Andy has given, but I guess the only way to be sure is to wait and see tomorrow. My goal is to be at least fifty percent better than Shaw, so we’ll see how it goes.
“Shit! Is that the time?” Andy asks as he stares at the clock on his laptop screen. “Why did you let me go on and on like that?” he asks as he throws himself back onto the couch.
I shrug. “It was interesting.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “I’ve already agreed to tutor you. You don’t need to butter me up anymore.”
I straighten myself and look him in the eye. “I’m not saying it to stroke your ego. You’re a very good teacher. Have you ever considered working as one?”
He toys with the cord of his laptop as he considers my words. “I’ve thought about it,” he eventually says as he gets up and starts packing his things. He doesn’t say anything else, though.
“And?” I prompt.
“You only think I’m a decent teacher because I feel comfortable enough with you not to puke on you.”
Andy feels comfortable with me? For whatever reason, that feels like a lottery win. My insides go all warm as I let the thought settle. I would have persevered with the tutoring thing even if it turned out Andy hated me and every moment he was forced to spend with me because I need him, but the fact that he actually likes me is like an ice cream cone on a warm summer day. Without thinking, I grab Andy’s arms and force him to look at me.
“You’re an excellent teacher, Andy Carter.”
He flushes slightly and shakes his head, but there’s a small smile on his face as he pulls away and continues putting his things away.
“Hey, you want some dinner?” I ask before I can consider whether or not it’s a good idea. I just know that I don’t want Andy to leave yet. I’m having too much fun hanging out with him to call it a night, even though I have an early practice tomorrow at the camp and on a normal day, I would never do something like this.
Andy looks surprised at the offer.
“I’m a decent cook,” I add.
Andy looks torn as his eyes flitter between my kitchen and the front door. He scratches his head. “I kind of told Falcon I’d be home for dinner. It’s this farewell thing since he’s going away for the summer. I’m going to regret it later when I’m trying to force down tofu or Brussels sprouts or something equally as horrifying, but raincheck?”
Why the hell am I disappointed? There’s no reason to be bothered by the fact that the guy I’ve known for a grand total of two weeks has other plans.
Plans with a guy he has a crush on, I remind myself, and instantly I tell myself to shut up. Good for Andy. He can flirt and make Asola notice him. I’m kind of surprised Asola hasn’t figured out yet that Andy has a crush on him. It’s not like Andy is especially subtle about it, but maybe it’s easier to detect it from an outsider’s perspective.
“Sure,” I say. “I’ll just eat that chicken alfredo myself then.”
Andy glowers at me. “You evil bastard.”
I grin as I watch him pull his sneakers on. “It’s my grandma’s recipe with extra cheese.”
Andy shakes his head. “Keep talking. But just remember, people have gone to hell for less, and God is always listening.”
It’s fun to tease him. Andy picks up his bag, and that brings me back to reality. He’s here to help me with tutoring, so I should do my part, too.
“Before I forget, I found you a stylist.”
Andy
takes a step back and gapes at me. “Already?”
“Well, yeah, it’s Jordan’s sister. Jordan’s our goalie. And don’t worry, she’s a pro. Has a client list and everything.”
“Oh,” Andy says faintly. He looks a bit green.
“You sure you want to go through with it?” I ask with a frown.
Andy blinks a couple of times and starts nodding. “Absolutely. Yup. It’ll be great. Super great.”
“Uh-huh.” It doesn’t look like his heart is fully in it, but I guess the thought of change can be scary, and it’ll take some time to get used to it.
“I was also thinking you should come to the gym with me,” I continue.
The look on Andy’s face is priceless. Already freaked by the stylist news, his eyes go wide and he closes and opens his mouth a few times. “The gym?” he repeats like it’s a foreign word, and he’s testing it out to get the pronunciation right.
“We can go in the morning. I usually run on the treadmill before work. You should come with,” I propose.
He laughs. “Phew, for a moment there, I thought you were being serious. Good one.”
“I think it makes perfect sense. First of all, exercise is good for you.”
He gasps. “You take that back.”
“And secondly, think about it, Asola is really into sport, so if you start running and going to the gym, you’ll have something else in common. Is there really anything more romantic than working out together?”
“I can think of lots of things,” Andy mutters.
“Well, you wanted my help with Asola, and that’s my first lesson. Find a common interest. You can start going to the gym together, or even on a morning run. You’ll have all this time together, just the two of you…”
Andy doesn’t look convinced, but eventually, his shoulders drop and he lets out a resigned sigh. “Fine. I guess we can try.”
I rub my hands together excitedly. “It’ll be great,” I announce. “We’ll start tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at six.”
“Six!” he yelps. “My alarm clock didn’t come with the six a.m. option.”
“It’ll be great,” I assure him once more.
Andy opens the front door wordlessly. He steps out and takes another disgusted look at me. “I rue the day I met you,” he announces.
I laugh as I watch him sulkily trudge down the stairs.
My mood is great for the rest of the evening.
7
Andy
Five forty-five in the morning is a ridiculous time to get up. The sun is rising, true, but the apartment is still dim, for Christ’s sake. That must be a clear sign from God that He does not approve of doing anything other than sleeping at this hour of the day, and who am I to contradict the big guy? Clearly, people aren’t meant to be up this early. The sun looks like it’s trying to convince itself that rising is a necessary feat. As it is, only murderers, lunatics, and prostitutes are out at this time of day, and since I’m none of those, I feel like I should have stayed in bed to avoid false advertising.
I’m slumped over the kitchen table, trying to gather enough willpower to make myself a cup of coffee when my phone rings. I grab at it blindly and slide my thumb over the screen. “I hate you,” I mumble into the phone.
Law laughs too damn brightly to be human. “Rise and shine,” he says in a singsong voice. “I’ll be there in five.”
“I hope you get some kind of embarrassing disease,” I yell into the phone before he can hang up. The bastard only laughs at that.
Precisely five minutes later, I drag my sorry ass downstairs, where Law’s car idles by the curb. I climb in, buckle the seatbelt, and we’re off. Law takes one look at me and wordlessly hands me a thermos. I take a sip and groan as the glorious taste of coffee hits. “Fine, I take back the embarrassing disease wish,” I say.
“Well, I, for one, am relieved,” he deadpans.
The drive to the gym takes us only five minutes. The campus is silent in the early morning. It’s that quiet time of the day when diligent students aren’t out to go to class yet, but even the most avid parties have called it quits for the night. The only good thing about the six a.m. wake-up call is the fact that all my roommates were still dead to the world because of last night’s goodbye party, so I was spared the conversation where I would have had to explain why I’m up at six and ready to go exercise. Falcon would have probably hired an exorcist had he witnessed me this morning. By the time I’m back, he’ll already be gone. For the whole summer. For whatever reason, I’m not as bummed as I usually am about it.
Law and I get out of the car and make our way into the gym. “Is this the right time to mention that running, and exercise in general, is against my religion?” I ask as we drop our things in the lockers.
“And what religion is that?”
“I worship on the altar of Mars Inc. and Hershey Co.”
He laughs at that. “Relax. We’re just going to do some light running.”
“Oh, okay. See, I should have told you before, in my religion it’s only acceptable to run when somebody’s chasing you.”
Law’s looks me up and down. “I mean, I guess I could run behind you if that’s what you need.”
“Cool. Thanks. Could you also emulate an angry carnivore, like a tiger or a bear or a T-Rex? It helps if I feel like my life is in danger.”
“Man, I’ve gotta go practice my roaring,” he says, and to his credit, he manages to sound like he doesn’t think I’m completely ridiculous.
“Now come on, we’ve only got an hour before I have to go to practice,” he says as I gape at him.
“Why are you here if you’ve got practice later?” I ask.
“Warming up.” Law’s lips twitch as I stare at him in horror.
“I’ll never understand athletes,” I mumble to myself.
He puts his hand on the small of my back and starts pushing me out of the locker room. I ignore the tingles that run through me at Law’s touch.
“I work as a coach at hockey camp. The kids have practice, not me. I mean, I skate a little, but it’s mostly just yelling at them to tell them what they’re doing wrong.”
I stop and Law bumps into me. He’s big and warm and standing so close to him feels good. Too good. I step away. “Is that why I’m here? You want to practice your yelling on me? I’ll probably give you lots of reasons to get frustrated, just a fair warning.”
“I’ll use all my best curse words,” he assures me with a twinkle in his eyes.
“Lead the way,” I tell Law with a resigned sigh, and not a minute later, I find myself face to face with a row of treadmills.
“Ah,” I say, doing my best to emulate the dude from History Channel. “Ancient torture devices. In the Middle Ages people who were accused of being witches were made to run on those archaic machines until they collapsed of exhaustion and admitted that they were, in fact, in cahoots with the devil and were practicing witchcraft.”
Law barks out another laugh. He throws his arm over my shoulder and leads me to one of the deathtraps. “Let’s see if you’ve got the power, then.”
He walks me through his plan for me, which is basically a lot of walking, intercepted by short bouts of jogging every couple of minutes. It doesn’t sound exactly pleasant, but since I expected him to make me run at full speed for three hours straight, it’s better than I thought.
As far as workouts go, this one’s okay. Not once do I feel like I’m about to die. Law runs beside me, predictably with a much tougher regime that includes sprinting uphill. I glance at him from the corner of my eye every once in a while. I can’t help it. He’s… hot. There’s no other word for it. His powerful muscles flex as he speeds up, legs measuring the miles steadily. It’s impossible not to appreciate the sight.
After my thirty minutes are up, I step off the treadmill and sit down on the floor. I know I hated the idea of a workout in the beginning, but I feel good. Those pesky endorphins really know what they’re doing. I empty Law’s water bottle just to mess with hi
m, because I’m a good friend like that. Finally, after twenty more minutes, Law slows to a walk and after another five minutes, steps down from the treadmill.
“So?” he asks with a knowing smirk. He doesn’t even sound tired, damn it. I sound more winded when I have to walk up the stairs to my apartment. Maybe Law was onto something with this gym thing?
“It was not totally unenjoyable,” I allow as he beams like he’s a new father and I’ve just complimented his newborn.
“Great. Same time tomorrow?” he asks. He heads toward the locker room as I scramble to my feet and almost lose my balance in my haste to get to Law. “Wait a minute,” I call after him. “What do you mean tomorrow? I thought it was like a once-in-a-lifetime type of deal?”
“Exercise is good for you,” he repeats like a mantra. “But fine, you can have Sundays off. That still leaves us with six mornings of fun each week.”
I gape at him in disbelief. “Don’t you have other friends to torture?”
A shadow crosses his eyes, but it’s so quick that it might also only be a trick of light. “That just means I like you best,” he quips, and I’m taken aback by how good that makes me feel, joking or otherwise.
We reach our lockers and Law undresses. No hesitation, no insecurities. Just pulls off his shirt and drops his shorts. I realize belatedly that I’m staring at Law’s ass, so I quickly turn my back because he’s about to lose the boxer briefs, and if I’m not mistaken, things are about to get embarrassing for me.
“Six times a week is crazy,” I say to distract myself. My face is firmly turned away from Law, but I can hear the rustling of fabric, so I’m determined to drown that sound out with my voice.
Law is quiet for a moment before he sighs and says, “Fine, five times a week.”
“Two,” I counter.
“Four, but we’ll go for a hike one of those days.”
“Two days and a hike. That’s my final offer.”
“Three days and a short hike,” Law says.
“Fine,” I grumble. “You get three mornings, a hike, and my eternal hatred.”
Project Hero Page 7
