Chapter Text
Her hands swish languidly through the air, like the warm late August breeze lilting through the window. Angsty music can be heard blaring through Coley’s headphones (at a volume deemed unacceptably loud at any place other than home).
She stares up at the ceiling, and all she can do right now is think. Think about her life, and just how fucked up it is.
Most of her time (including right now) is spent thinking about her mom, missing her so deeply, but also condemning her (which Coley feels guilty for afterwards; a vicious cycle). How could she do that to herself, to Coley, to everyone? Why? And because of all of that, despite the already extremely difficult changes that come with losing your mom, she had to endure more.
She had to pack up and move to the middle of nowhere Oregon, with no friends, no knowledge of the place, nothing.
Her dad is here, but is he really even her dad? She’s basically living with a roommate she doesn’t even know (one she also has no intentions of getting to know). But she won’t even acknowledge said roommate because, fuck him, for leaving her alone, not sending a letter or trying to meet up with her or learn anything about his own daughter. Ever.
School is just the cherry on top of everything else. She is doing fine in most of her classes, albeit slightly less so in math. The teachers are fine. It’s just that everyone here seems to know each other already, so Coley sits alone in her classes, eats alone, and essentially, in life is utterly and completely alone.
A faint knocking interrupts her thought process. She scrunches her eyes shut, focusing more on her music, her thoughts, her escape. But the knocking persists so she whips off her headphones, opens her eyes, and sees Curtis standing in the entryway to her room.
“Coley we need to talk, come downstairs when you’re ready.”
If this were any other time, Coley would probably brush it off and not go downstairs, but the edge in his voice, with concern laced into it, has her walking downstairs and meeting him at the kitchen table. His hands are clasped together, posture slightly rigid. She takes a seat opposite him, sitting comfortably.
“Your math teacher called, she said you’re failing her class.”
Shit. Maybe she downplayed just how bad she was doing in math earlier (Trig was hard!) She really didn’t think he would find out about this. It wasn’t like she wasn’t trying (she was). Math was, rough for her, to say the least.
”Look, kid-“
“Don’t call me that.”
”Okay, sorry, it’s just I want the best for you Coley-“
She scoffs at that. As if he wanted what was best for her, he left her, he never even cared about her til recently. And that's only because he had to start caring.
“-So I talked with your teacher, and she said we could get you a tutor, so I got you one.”
She grips the edge of the table, seething with anger. Why should he get to worry about her grades, why should he get to make decisions for her? He was never there to do those things in the past, and now he just gets to waltz into her life and start dictating it?
She pushes back from the table, chair screeching against the ground.
Raising an eyebrow she sneers, ”Is that all?”
“Yes,” he sighs, sounding defeated (Coley feels a pang of guilt, then shoves it down).
“It’ll be every Friday at 3:30 after school.”
School the next day is mundane; the following likewise. She goes through the motions until Friday comes, the day Coley has been dreading for the entire week. Tutoring day.
She lounges at one of the tables scattered about in the back corner of the library. Drumming her fingertips on the table out of anxiousness and glancing around every second. Her anxiousness slowly morphs into anger, though, as the time continues to drift on and there's no sign of her tutor.
3:47 rolls around and a girl rushes into the back towards her, waving at her and buzzing with energy, and, holy shit, she might be the prettiest girl Coley’s ever laid eyes on.
She has long honey blonde hair, piercing brown eyes, and the fullest pinkest lips Coley’s ever seen (Coley silently reprimands herself for staring at her lips for so long).
She’s smiling as she sits down, papers spilling about the desk, and then begins waving her hands around and apologizing profusely, “I’m so so SO sorry, I got caught up talking to my friends, and totally just lost track of the time.”
Now Coley's pissed again. 17. Minutes. Late. Because she was talking to her friends. It felt like one big slap in the face to Coley (who has no friends right now, has no one at all). She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms, gaze heavy on Sonya.
She claps her hands together, “But let’s forget about that! My name is Sonya, and you’re Coley, right?”
Coley nods.
“I’ll be tutoring you! It seems like you need help with math, which is great, because I lo-”
“Can we just get started,” Coley coldly interjects.
Sonya looks perturbed, to say the least, as if no one had ever interrupted her while speaking. She nods collecting herself.
“Sure let’s start,” she says dejectedly.
They work together in awkward silence unless Sonya is presenting explanations for a problem or telling her what to work on next.
Coley is angry, but she is also extremely intrigued by this girl in front of her, how perfect and put-together she appears, but also not at all. Coley glances up at her every so often, gauging her facial expressions, surveying her movements, her outfit, trying to figure out Sonya.
At one point, Coley peers up at her, and Sonya is staring right back at her, with a concentration so intense that Coley's face flushes (if she had looked for a moment longer, she would have noticed the pink tinge to Sonya's cheeks as well). She ducks her head focusing back on her paper, and Sonya glances at her periwinkle nails as if they are the most interesting thing in the world.
As the time nears 4:30, the tutoring session is coming to an end, so they begin wrapping up.
“Okkkk, I think we can stop here today,” Sonya says as she packs up her belongings, “I’ll see you next week same place same time.”
“So 17 minutes late?” Coley jeers (and not in a playful way).
Sonya huffs out, “Rude!” slightly joking (slightly not) as she spins on her heel and leaves.
Coley rolls her eyes and watches her walk away, and is left sitting there, feeling way too many emotions all for just having completed a math tutoring session.