Nate

I’ve been waiting for over an hour for my brother and his idiot friends to leave so I can go downstairs and get a drink, but they’re still here and I’m thirsty.

I do my best to avoid them as I slink into the kitchen and pour myself a glass of juice, but Harrison pounces the second I open the fridge.

“What’s up?” he says.

“Uh, nothing.”

“What you up to?”

I show him the carton of orange juice.

“Cool.”

I turn my back, but he comes and stands beside me.

“So , you wanna be a teacher one day right?”

“A professor, when I’m like forty.”

“Yeah exactly, so, how would you like to get some practise?”

I frown and he says, “not me, no, it’s for someone else.”

I look through the window leading into the pool room and my stomach drops.

“Oh no, no way, I’m not tutoring any of your idiot teammates.”

“Hold on a minute, that’s not very nice, just because they play sports…”

I put the juice back and slam the fridge, “no way, find someone else.”

“I’ll pay you.”

“I don’t want your money.”

I’m walking away from him when he pulls the ultimate sibling card.

“I’ll tell mom.”

Those three words stop me dead in my tracks. Traitor.

From experience, I know the best defence against the mom card is to call his bluff.

I force a laugh, “tell mom what?”

“That you’re being mean.” He grins.

“Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“How do you think mom’ll feel if we don’t make it to the play-offs in my last year of college because you wouldn’t tutor our best defenceman and he got kicked off the team?”

The word ‘defenceman’ piques my interest and Harrison is like a fucking spy at noticing the slightest reaction.

“She’d be pretty pissed huh?”

My shoulders drop, “who is it?”

Harrison grins like he’s already won, but I’m by not giving up yet. I barely have time for my own studies.

“Engels.”

That tattoo flashes to the front of my mind. How curious I was to find out if it was really him. Harrison sees an opening and takes it.

“He doesn’t need to get an A, he just needs a C to stay on the team.”

“I don’t…”

“He’s on a scholarship, if he doesn’t pass this course, he’ll get kicked out of school.”

“That’s not my problem.”

“You don’t fool me Nathaniel.”

He grins, knowing how much I hate it when people use my name like that.

“Fuck you.”

Harrison laughs. It’s the laugh of someone who is used to getting what they want and being worshipped by everyone around them. I hate that laugh.

“Come on , he’s harmless, he’s not an asshole or anything and he’ll be grateful to you. So will I.”

I don’t need your gratitude.

“And so will mom.”

I think about mom sitting at the kitchen table, watching me eat a sandwich and asking me why I don’t have a boyfriend. Maybe I could distract her? Maybe I could figure out if that picture was really Engels…

“I don’t have a lot of time.”

“Fine!”

Harrison slaps his hands on the counter, “you don’t need it, just help him scrape a C and I’ll leave you alone. And I’ll tell mom how helpful you were and she’ll leave you alone too.”

He’s like some sneaky mind-reader. I internally tell him to get out of my head and call him a shit stain, just in case.

Harrison grabs me by the shoulders and plants an exaggerated kiss on my head.

“Do that again and the deal’s off!”

I shout after him.

He gives me the finger.

Fucker.

I flop down on my bed and listen to Harrison and half the hockey team pile out of the house and into his car. I can’t believe I agreed to tutor the dumbest, loudest player on the team. I really am an idiot.

I text Katie so I can vent.

‘Guess who agreed to tutor one of the demon’s teammates?’

She doesn’t text back right away and I imagine her glued to her notes at the library.

When she does reply, it’s with a gif of someone laughing so hard milk comes out of their nose.

‘Is he hot?’

That tattoo comes back. The body attached to it. Something stirs in me and I push it out.

‘Ew. None of them are hot.’

‘I wouldn’t say NONE of them ;-)’

‘Who?’

‘That would be telling.’

‘If you say my brother I’m disowning you.’

‘Definitely not. I follow the bro code.’

‘What’s that?’

‘In this instance, no checking out your friends’ siblings.’

I’ll bet the hockey team follow that code too. So I guess, even if that picture was Engels, I won’t have to worry about him coming onto me. Oh who am I kidding? Why would he come onto me? He might not exactly be a pretty boy himself, but he’s a hockey player with muscles. Gay men are just as into that as women are. I know from the tumbleweed on my dating profiles.

I hadn’t even thought to ask what subject Engels needs tutoring in until Katie asks.

Engels is a senior. So if it’s a subject I have no knowledge of, it’s going to be hard for me to tutor him to that level in it. I’d probably have trouble tutoring someone at my level in something like biology or philosophy.

‘Probably sports psych or training or nutrition, if it’s psych I can help.’

‘Thanks.’ I send her a heart and she sends me a gif of a cartoon bear squeezing another cartoon bear until it pops.

‘Nice.’

‘Your welcome.’

‘You’re welcome’

‘Fuck off .’