PART TWO: THE LONGEST JOURNEY STARTS WITH A SINGLE STEP

We both sat across from Mr. Davies like we'd committed a crime. Or maybe that was just me. I wasn't used to having to share my favorite teacher with the school's favorite delinquent.

Said teacher smiled at Sawyer and me like he was pleased as punch. "So, how are you both this fine Monday?"

I had to admit Sawyer's expression was a work of art. He looked like a mix between pissed off and nauseated. My face probably wasn't any better. Seeing this, Mr. Davies decided to skip our answers and soldiered forward like a champ.

He clapped once and leaned forward. "First of all, I have to say I'm really happy you've both decided to give this experiment a try. I think it's going to be great for all of us."

I thought of the glowing recommendation letter he and Mr. Jones were going to write for me in a month, took a deep breath and smiled. I could do this. I sat up straighter and put my hands on my lap.

"We won't disappoint," I said. Sawyer snorted.

"So what's this gonna be like?" he asked, leaning back and spreading his legs like he was in his living room. I kicked his leg slightly, but he didn't pick up on the hint. He ran a hand through his unkept hair and I wondered if he'd ever get a haircut. "A couple of tutoring sessions, and that's it?"

It almost seemed like Mr. Davies had been waiting for this very question.

"Nothing so simple, Mr. Logan. The fact of the matter is that you moved on from junior year to senior by the sheer force of a miracle. And you can't bank on another miracle pulling you past the failure line again this year, because senior year is pretty challenging."

I cleared my throat. "Um, wait. What was this miracle that you're talking about?" After all, one didn't just go from flunking every class to suddenly passing the final exams and I'd always wondered if it was just that the school took pity on him and moved him forward a year. They certainly wouldn't be the first or last to give Sawyer any favors.

"Sawyer here is a bit of a genius," as Mr. Davies said, both Sawyer and I frowned at him. "The biggest reasons why he's always in trouble is tardiness, detention and the fact that he simply doesn't do his homework. But he does well enough in exams."

I unleashed the power of my frown on the so called genius. He avoided it like the plague.

"Marshall," he addressed Mr. Davies by his given name and the latter didn't seem the least bit bothered by it. Were they close? Since when? This was a new development for me.

Sawyer continued, "Don't oversell me. The princess is going to get weird ideas."

I gasped. "Don't you dare call me that in front of a teacher!"

"What I'd really like," our teacher said without minding my outburst one bit, looking at Sawyer like only he mattered. "Is for you to stop under selling yourself. You have a lot of potential that you're not meeting because you just don't want to."

What the heck? It was like Mr. Davies did this thing for Sawyer all along, not for me.

Outrageous.

I opened and closed my mouth, trying to get a word in this conversation but holding myself back, because I knew anything that spilled out was not going to be good. I understood what I was feeling. Jealousy. Betrayal. And consciously I also knew I didn't have a right to feel this way. It wasn't like Mr. Davies was only my counselor. He worked with the entire student body. Sawyer was part of the student body. Even if for four years I'd never actually seen him study once.

And yet Mr. Davies had faith in him. Just like he had faith I'd get into the business school of my dreams, Rollins.

I snapped my mouth closed and listened as he told the other boy, "You're really good at math, so it shouldn't be hard for Rory to help you pull your Trig grades up." Mr. Davies opened up Sawyer's file and skimmed it for a quick second. "Hmm, English, Chemistry, Economics, US History. And you chose Spanish?"

Sawyer cleared his throat. "Yeah, well. I have quite a few buddies at my part time that are Spanish speakers. It's useful," he said with a shrug.

Mr. Davies latched onto that. "So you have a part time job? What is it about?"

I let out a harsh breath. "He works at my papa's car shop."

"Good," Mr. Davies said, surprising us both. "So that's your vocation. We can work with that. We have a few shop classes that you could take for your electives, which by the way, you should have already chosen and got started on two weeks ago."

Sawyer looked like he was in as much pain as I was. Except I had no sympathy for him.

"You haven't chosen your electives yet?" I asked him. "What is wrong with you?"

"How about Metalwork?" Mr. Davies asked.

"Fine," was all Sawyer said.

"And for your final elective," the teacher looked back down at the file, as if he didn't have this whole thing planned and finalized in his head. "Why don't you join the baseball team and we have it count as PE credits?"

Sawyer surprised us by bursting out laughing. "Hell no. Did you forget it was one of your baseball guys who did this to me?" Then he pointed at his lip.

"Coach O'Hare will take care of him and you." Mr. Davies scribbled on the file. "That's final."

I didn't see how this was going to have a good outcome at all, but that portion of the pie was none of my business, and if Coach O'Hare and I split custody of this idiot it was only going to help me. The big burning question I had was the following.

"Where do I come in?"

Mr. Davies snapped his fingers. "So glad you asked. I need you to put together a schedule of your tutoring sessions. I talked with your homeroom teacher and he'll allow you both to use that period, but you'll have to cram the rest after school."

"I can't," Sawyer cut in. "My job-"

Excited, Mr. Davies said, "But can't Rory here talk with her dad to allow you some reprieve?"

"Sure," I said through gritted teeth, annoyed to no end because my papa was one of those other people who always gave Sawyer a second chance. "But I have the newspaper and yearbook after class and..." I trailed off, seeing my teacher's pointed look. Hello, recommendation letter, it read. I sighed. "I'll talk with them to at least get two days off per week, how about that?"

"Sounds good," he said, leaning back and lacing his fingers over his belly like he'd just eaten a feast. "This is great, you guys. Don't you think so?"

We both mumbled incoherent things and walked with about three feet in between us once we left Mr. Davies' office. I hoped they knew how much of a sacrifice this whole thing was going to be for me. I'd rather be working on my own homework, my extracurriculars, my college applications or even helping papa out with the paperwork. I'd rather use my time with Toni to figure out everything that was going on with her.

I'd rather eat a shoe, to be honest, than spend so much time with Sawyer Logan. Saturday had proved just how risky that could be.

Alas.

"We start today after school," I told him just before we veered off to our respective classes. "I'll take care of papa, but if you dare to skip out on me I swear to you I will chase you down with a shovel."

"A shovel," he said, deadpan.

I nodded. "Yes, so I can bury your body and leave your head above ground so you can still read your text books."

This threat did not have the intended effect. He just gave me a smile, the kind that raised my hair on its ends and made me want to scream, smack him and stomp away. In that order.

"Can't wait, princess," he said, chuckling as I glared.

I had the certainty at that second that one of us was going to die after all of this. And it was not going to be me.

just keep in mind that this is a portrait of how i looked like while drafting this book

you know, for when your hearts break and you forget i warned y'all that this one would hurt

but carry on reading! the fun's just getting started 😌✨