Rags to Riches

I didn't pretend like I was totally used to driving through neighborhoods like the one Kenny lived in, but I did do as well as I could to hide the fact that I was genuinely scared. It was the kind of neighborhood I avoided. Most people were inside, but one or two were walking outside, staring me down when I drove by. One in particular eyed me a bit too much, and I found myself speeding up slightly to get past him.

Kenny's house was smaller than I expected, and old. He asked me not to pull up right in front of his house, but a couple of houses before it. The lights were on in his house, and I guess he didn't want whoever was inside to see me in his driveway. He had managed to change in the car on the way, switching out his nice clothes for old jeans, a hoodie, and worn out sneakers. I wondered if his family even knew what he was up to, but decided it was for the best not to ask. Instead, I looked back over at his house, trying to catch a glimpse of the interior without much luck. I saw a couple of old toys left out on the porch, one of them being a dirty baby doll that had clearly been abandoned outside for a while, letting the weather ruin its pink pajamas and painted on face. It couldn't have belonged to Kenny.

"Do you have a sister?" I asked.

"Thanks for the ride," he told me, ignoring my question and trying to get out of the car. He paused when he saw that I had locked the doors, which I rarely remembered to do. I quickly unlocked them, and he got out with his stuff. "I'll see you later."

I started to say something, but he was gone before I could speak. I knew he didn't mean to be rude. Clearly he didn't want to be seen with me there. I sighed softly, watching him go. When he opened the front door, I caught a very brief glimpse of a little girl running up to greet him before he closed the door. So, he did have a sister. I found myself sitting there and realizing that I knew little to nothing about Kenny. I never really bothered asking. I made a mental note to myself to be better at that.

As I got ready to drive back home, I saw someone watching me through my rearview mirror. It was a guy about my age, but he was significantly more intimidating than most guys I knew. He had sort of a sly half-smile on his face as he stared at my car, then looked over at Kenny's house. I guess he saw the whole thing. I decided to drive off before he came over, seeing him get smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror as I left. A few seconds later, he hopped up on the bike he was standing next to and started to follow me.

I panicked, speeding up and turning the corner, thankfully speeding up enough for the kid to decide that I wasn't worth following. I managed to make it home alright. I only hoped the same would go for Kenny.

---

"So we'll set aside some time to talk about who's gonna be there, how to talk to them, dinner party etiquette, blah blah blah..."

I scrolled through a list of things to do on the phone in my hand, reading them out loud to Kenny while he sat at his desk and looked through some files, nodding slowly while I talked. I wasn't sure he was listening. He couldn't even look me in the eye at first. I assumed it was because of the mess that had happened with Connor, but it had been a number of days since the incident. This was about something else. I didn't point it out, though. It didn't seem like something he wanted to talk about.

Dad was off in some conference, leaving the two of us alone in his office. I was surprised Kenny was still working, even without Dad there. I would have slacked off. Yet there he was, sorting papers like there was no tomorrow. When I stopped talking for a few seconds, he also paused, looking over the paper at me expectantly.

"So, uh, yeah. And let me know when you're free so we can get your tux measurements," I finished awkwardly, setting the phone aside.

"My what measurements?" he frowned, putting the file down.

"Tux. Tuxedo," I elaborated.

"I know that tux stands for tuxedo," he rolled his eyes at me. "What the hell do I need a tux for?"

"The party, doofus."

He just stared at me, totally confused. "Can't I rent a tux?"

"This isn't junior prom, Kenny," I said, shaking my head. "Just trust me on this, okay? I know you don't want to stand out from everyone else, and I'm helping you with that. Dad already took care of the bill."

"He did what?" Kenny's head snapped up. He really did hate it when we spent money on him.

"He already paid for the suit, you just have to choose and order it," I explained. "He's not doing it for shits and giggles. He's doing it because he knows that you won't have a choice of whether to come or not if he already paid."

Kenny thought about it for a moment, then leaned back in his seat. "Not bad, old man...."

I laughed, picking up my bag off the ground and standing up. I thought about telling him what had happened a few nights before, with the guy who had followed me, but decided against it. It would only piss him off. I instead smoothed out my Rothenberg Prep uniform, acting like nothing was wrong.

"Are you leaving?" he asked.

"No, I'm just getting my books from my car so I can get homework done," I told him. "How about you make yourself useful and help me carry them up here?"

He gave me a bit of an annoyed look at first, but smiled and shook his head in defeat as he stood up and followed me out. We made small talk on the way to the car, and I found that he wasn't really responding to me the way he used to. He only looked at me when he had to, and when he did, it was a sort of cautious look as if he expected something bad to happen if he did. We walked out into the parking lot and over to my car, where I opened the passenger side door and picked up half the stack of heavy books sitting on the seat, handing them over to Kenny.

His eyes widened when he took them, surprised not only by their weight, but by the courses listed on the covers as well. I picked up the other half, and closed the door with my hip. He didn't say a word as we headed back up, but I caught him eyeing the books and their titles the entire time. When we finally set them down, he opened up the History book, flipping through the first few pages and staring at it like it was written in another language.

"AP European History?" he asked, flipping through the book. "My gosh, is that one a math book?"

His eyes widened as he reached for my BC Calculus textbook, weighing the heavy thing in his hand.

"Yeah, Calculus has been the hardest for me so far," I told him with a shrug. "I have a B+ right now, since I didn't do so well on our last test. I really need to bump it up to an A before the semester ends. It's been stressing me the hell out. Sometimes I wonder if it would be different if I had taken AB calc instead of BC. Then again, AB might be too slow for me."

He just stared at me like I was speaking in a totally different language, then looked back down at the book.

"'Numerical Approximations to Definite Integrals'?" he read the chapter title he was flipped to out loud, then shook his head. "How do you even do this?"

"Hey, it's a struggle," I shrugged. "Does it confuse you as much as it confuses me?"

He just shook his head again, pursing his lips and closing the book. "I'm not in Calculus."

"Oh," I said, tilting my head to the side. "Are you taking Statistics instead?"

"I'm in Algebra II," he told me, very annoyed from the sound of things. "We can't all be honor students like you, Callie."

"Oh," I frowned. "I'm sorry, I just assumed-"

"While you're there stressing out over your B+ in Calculus, I'm wondering if I'll even pass Algebra II," he told me. "I can't even figure out how to 'complete the square'. It's just not so simple."

I didn't say anything, feeling guilty for what I had said before. I had a hard time with making sure I didn't sound insensitive. It just wasn't something I was used to thinking about. We sat in awkward silence for a few moments, before I finally spoke up.

"Well, you have a polynomial, right? X squared, plus X, plus a number," I started, speaking slowly. "So you move the number without the X to the other side. Then you take the X, divide the coefficient by two, and then square it. The trick is to remember to add it to both sides."

He frowned, looking completely confused by what I had just told him. I took a notebook out of my bag with a pen, pulling up a chair next to where he was sitting at his desk and writing out an equation for him.

"So, you have X squared, plus 6X, minus 7, right?" I started, waiting for him to nod and pay attention before continuing. "So what do you do first?"

"You move the 7 to the other side?" he said hesitantly, unsure of whether he was right or not.

"Yeah, you move the 7 to the other side. So the sign changes," I told him, handing him the pen. "So negative 7 becomes positive when it moves."

He nodded, then rewrote the equation the way I taught him. I couldn't tell if he was happy about my little lesson or not. His expression was totally emotionless. But considering the fact that he was paying attention and writing it out with me, I assumed he was at least gaining something from it.

"So then you have X squared, plus 6X, equals positive 7," I continued. "So what do you do with the 6X?"

"Divide it by two, then square it?" he asked, remembering what I said and then doing it on paper.

"See, now there's the trick. You have to add nine to both sides, not just the other side. Golden rule is that you can't do anything to one side without doing it to the other," I told him, pointing it out.

He nodded and did what I said, finishing up the problem. He stared at the finished product, almost in disbelief of how simple it actually was. He set the pen down and leaned back in his seat, rubbing his forehead.

"Thank you," he said hesitantly.

"You know, I can help you out, if you need it," I told him. "If you don't get it, it's probably best for someone to explain it to you rather than you trying to understand it from a teacher lecturing a class full of thirty other students they have to worry about."

"I can't afford a tutor, Callie," he sighed.

"I'll do it free," I shrugged. "Not as a charity or anything, before you snap at me. It's something to put on my resume. Work experience."

He just stared at me for a few moments, then at the notebook in front of him, reading over the equation again. "You sure?"

I was surprised with how he wasn't going to fight this one. I guess he really cared about the grade enough to swallow his pride and let someone help him.

"Yeah, I'm positive. How about Wednesdays, after you're done here? We can go to the library and work on whatever you need help with," I said.

"Deal," he nodded, giving me a somewhat tired looking smile.

I smiled back, but saw his own smile waver, as if he was remembering whatever had been bothering him before. He looked away again, picking up the pen and writing himself a practice problem to work on. Whatever he was feeling guilty about, it was eating him alive.

I left before Dad came back, not really wanting to face the interrogation that came with me being alone with a boy, even if that boy was Kenny. He didn't have to know about the tutoring. It's not like it would have affected him anyways. Liseph, on the other hand, was harder to get past. Since she raised Connor and I, she had our schedules memorized. She could read Connor like a book. She would notice if I wasn't coming home at the same time as always, and she'd tell my mother. News would eventually get to my father, who is a great guy... Until he becomes an overprotective super-dad. I couldn't have him finding out.

"So where were you?" Liseph asked, as soon I was through the front door.

She was in the kitchen chopping vegetables for dinner, quick and expert fingers working while she stared me down. She was an older woman with a sweet face, graying brown hair always tied in a bun and out of her face, and wrinkles under her eyes that appeared when she smiled. She always wore a warm, sweet smile, but when she was being serious, you didn't dare question her. She definitely didn't hesitate to give Connor and me a spanking or two when we were kids. And now, she was serious. I shifted slightly, then went over and joined her in the kitchen, setting my bag down on a chair. I shrugged casually, leaning against the counter.

"I was visiting my dad at work," I told her.

"Oh, really?" she raised an eyebrow. "You know, it's funny. You never visited your father before that boy started working there."

"Well, I had to help him out with some stuff too," I admitted. "He doesn't know anything about tuxedos. He wanted to rent one. He needs my help."

"I just find it a little odd that I never see Avia anymore, but you've been spending a lot of time with that boy," she said slowly, setting the knife down. "What happened to Avia?"

"Well..." I awkwardly shifted again, trying to form words. I couldn't tell her the truth. "Nothing happened. We're both just really busy, and we haven't had time to hang out."

Way to go, Callie. You needed more lies on top of the rest.

"That never stopped you before."

"Well, since we both have school and stuff, we figured we'd hang out every Tuesday and do homework together at her house."

What the hell are you trying to pull here, Calliope?

Liseph stared me down for a bit, then shook her head with a smile. I knew she didn't completely believe me, but I was a good enough liar for her to let it go. I was a little bit concerned with my lies. I was getting better and better at it. Liseph scraped the vegetables into a pot, then nodded towards the table.

"Alright then. Set the table. I taught you better than to just stand there watching while I slave away," she smiled at me, though there was a warning look in her eye.

I nodded, not thinking twice about it. You don't question Liseph.