21
“What are you doing here?”
“Hi,” I said, peering around him into his living room. “Nice house.” And it was—wooden floors, nice thick Oriental rugs, lots of bookcases filled with serious-looking books.
David stood there holding the banana I had obviously interrupted him peeling. “Why are you here?” he repeated.
“I’ve decided to get back in the game. Really push it academically. I need intense tutoring now. Can I come in?”
I slipped him a twenty as a show of good faith.
He shoved it back in to my hand. “I don’t want your money.”
“Good. Then you’ll just do it as charity. I accept.”
My mother had dropped me off, since I can’t drive with this leg. I think she was as confused as David was. “Who is this boy?” she wanted to know. She’s always approved of Alex. I think she’s hoping we’ll
