Drumbeats into My Heart

11. Seth has a Revelation

I should've asked her out! Ugh, I almost did—the words had been perching on my tongue like a fledgling ready to take its first flight—but nope. I chickened out at the last second. Her eyes had been so... resplendent. Yes, that was the word. They were a mesmerizing azure today, reminding me that girls of her caliber didn't date chumps like me.

After locking up my bike, I enter the tutoring center.

"Hi, Bridget." I wave to the elderly woman behind her desk, white hair pulled into an elegant bun.

"Hello, Seth. What's the word of the day?" She peers over her bifocals at me.

"Resplendent," I reply with a grin. Then I remember my ugly braces and close my mouth.

"Ooh, I like that one. I'm writing it down. And Seth, dear?" She adds as she pulls a small notepad from her purse. "No one cares one whit about braces. Stop being so self-conscious."

I press my lips together, not sure what to say to that.

She grabs a pen, ready to jot the word. "Resplendent. That means fancy, right?"

"And beautiful," I reply, eager to not talk about braces. "Much like your Mustang."

She beams. "You know why I like you more than any of these other academic types? You know a true beauty when you see it. That Mustang is a classic."

"Anytime you need a babysitter for her, look me up." I wink at her.

"You got it. Speaking of babies, I'm about to pee my pants. Mind watching the homestead for a minute?" She creaks up out of her chair with a grunt. "I've got to go to my 'other office'. Don't ever get old." She shakes a finger at me. "It just means achy joints and a bladder the size of a peach pit."

"Thanks for the tip."

She totters out and down the hallway.

I'm alone in the office now. Alone with my thoughts of Jordi.

I wander closer to the desk.

Alone with Bridget's administrative computer.

Hmm.

I glance around, almost hoping someone is around to stop me, but it's empty.

This is wrong. Looking up Jordi's record is wrong. And yet...

I plunk into the seat and began clicking. It asks for a password, so I scan the myriad of colorful Post-Its on her monitor until I locate the right one.

I just want to know more about Jordi, that's all. It's simple curiosity. I want to know what classes she took. Maybe that'll give me more insight into this captivating girl. Give me something to talk to her about besides music. Maybe she's a genius. I've never spoken with a genius before. That would be so—

I blink repeatedly at what I see on the screen. This can't be right.

I squint and check the name again. Jordana McKay. Is this really her? I click back to the name listings, but there's only one Jordana McKay at Lincoln High. I return to the record and gape at all the C's and D's littering it. An F in American Lit. Her best grade this year is a C+ in Trigonometry. Everything else is... dismal.

I sit back in the chair, stunned. My estimation of her had been so far off. Why is she doing so poorly? I don't understand it. She's smart and funny in person. What was happening to her in class?

I spot Bridget through the window and shut the program in a hurry, pulse racing. By the time she shuffles in, I've situated myself across the room, tapping a pencil on the table.

"You know what I see?" she says as she eases herself back into her chair.

My mouth goes dry. She knows. She saw me granting myself unauthorized access and is about to say she sees a criminal.

"I see a lonely boy."

I blink at her. "Excuse me?"

"In here, you waste your time charming an old woman. But out there, you bumble around like a nearsighted june bug. I see you around school. Why don't you have a girlfriend?"

"Well, um..." Because I'm a loser who only feels comfortable around people I can't date. "No one compares to you I guess."

She snorts. "Seth, I may enjoy flattery as much as the next gal, but you're skirting the question."

My face heats up and I tap my pencil faster.

Her chair squeaks. "You're a turtle, you know. Things get uncomfortable, and you retreat into that shell of yours."

"Thank you, Dr. Phil."

She cackles. "Now there's a man I wouldn't mind testing my new hip on." She gives me a sly glance. "Dancing, of course."

I laugh just as a student walks in for a tutoring session. I wonder if I can tutor Jordi? Would that be weird? Would she even want that?

As I help the student work through his math problems, I wonder how I might go about bringing up the subject with Jordi. Hi, I illegally saw your school records and thought maybe you might like a brainiac to help you with your terrible grades?

I shake my head at the thought. No possible way.

The student stops scribbling equations and looks at me. "Is this wrong? I knew it! I just don't get this stuff. Dad said I should be embarrassed."

"No, it's fine. You did it right. I was thinking about something else. Keep going."

Then it hits me.

Jordi would be embarrassed. I could never figure out why she always gottwitchy when we talked about school. She always changed the subject.

But why? Why not seek help? Did her parents not care? I would be grounded for life and yelled at every day for good measure if I ever came home with those grades.

I scratch my head as I ponder the dilemma. Do I talk to her about it and risk embarrassing, or worse, alienating her? Or do I keep quiet and pretend like I've never seen the grades? Pretend like it doesn't matter?

The very thought of confronting her makes me squirm. The risk was much too great. We might never become anything more than friends, but I certainly don't want to lose that either.

Option B, then. Keep quiet. Keep quiet and—for once in my sad little life—stop worrying about grades.

You know, I should stop worrying about votes. Yeah... not happening. XD