Page 7

Chapter 7

Weston

I feel like I’ve lived ten lives since Darcy showed up earlier. I can’t believe I embarrassed myself like that. Thankfully, he took my bumbling in stride, but it could have gone the opposite way. He could have told me to fuck off or assumed I was being mean.

He could have gotten up and left.

That thought sends a panicked little pang through my heart.

He’s setting things up across my coffee table, so I lean forward to see what he’s got going on. When he gets everything laid out, he turns his notebook toward me. He’s perched on the edge of my couch, bouncing a little like he’s excited. It’s endearing.

“Okay,” he says, tapping on the notebook.

Oh. It’s a football play. Or at least at surface level. He made history into football plays. Wow. That’s …

He clears his throat, drawing my attention to him. “So, I have an in with the professor, and he informed me that you’d be having a quiz on The Battle of Valmy in two days.” I gape at him, not sure what to make of… all this. He taps the paper and I force my eyes down. “So I made this.”

I nod, my eyes scanning the page again. He worked really hard on this.

“So here’s the scene. It’s September 20th, 1792. France is the underdog. They basically have a group of farmers and volunteers in their little army. They’re hyped up. One hundred percent ready to go, right? But the problem is that they’re up against the Prussians.”

I’m caught in his gaze as he transforms before my eyes. Not that he’s ever meek or lacking confidence, but right now, he’s exuding it. It’s seeping from his pores and shining from his very core. “Focus, West,” he admonishes, and I force my eyes back to the notebook. “The Prussians were formidable. Picture a middle school team playing against an NFL team. No competition, yeah?”

He points to a cluster of X’s on his drawn-out play. “So this is the French defense, essentially.”

I nod, following along well enough so far. “I’m assuming this is the Prussians, then?” I ask, pointing to the O’s.

“You’ve got it,” Darcy says, giving me a bright smile. “So the Prussians are coming in with everything they’ve got. Cavalry, cannons, and a super experienced team. The big dogs. But the French had something they weren’t expecting.”

I smile. “A good quarterback?”

Darcy laughs. I love that I can make him laugh. “Close, but no. They had heart and fight. Something the Prussians weren’t expecting. They set up their cannons here.” He pauses, pointing to the top of the diagram with his pen. “So they had the high ground. Field advantage or something. Still trying to figure out the best way to compare it. So the Prussians came in expecting an easy win, but the French dug in their heels and held their ground.”

Things click in my brain. “So, like a goal-line stand.”

Darcy looks at me, his excitement palpable. “Exactly!” He’s practically buzzing, and I don’t know if it’s because he’s talking about history or because I’ve actually understood something he was trying to get me to understand. But the way he looks makes it hard to drag my eyes away. “So our offense, the Prussians, keeps trying to advance, but our defense, the French, keeps shutting them down.”

A smile tugs at my lips. “So they just kept trying but got nowhere.”

“Yes.” Darcy flips the notebook over, showing me more notes. “The thing is, after seeing how the French weren’t giving in, the Prussians started to lose confidence. It really shook them up. And they essentially started getting in their own heads. It wasn’t just a physical game, but a mental game as well.”

“So what happened? You can’t just hold a line forever. Something has to give.”

He smiles, like this is the best part. “So the general, the coach, if you will, retreated. Said enough is enough and backed up.”

I blink at him. “Wait? So they didn’t even win? Not really? They just stood their ground until the other guy gave up?”

Darcy shrugs. “A turnover is a turnover.” He winks at me. I’m not sure the comparison is exactly right, but then it hits me that if I didn’t understand what he was saying, I wouldn’t know the comparison didn’t work.

I stare at him in awe for a few seconds. “So, what are your plans after graduation? Career wise?”

He tilts his head to the side. “Uh, that was random, but I want to teach history. ”

Somehow that doesn’t surprise me and I should have known. “You’re going to be so good at it.”

His cheeks flush pink, and he smiles. “Thank you. I’m assuming that means you’re understanding the material a little better?”

I nod. “Yeah, in a way I really haven’t before. I can’t believe how quickly you found a way to make it work, Darcy. Really, it’s…” I blow out a breath, not sure how to even finish the sentence.

We spend the next hour going over two more battles using the football play diagram that Darcy has drawn up. It’s honestly so impressive. He met with me one time and found a strategy that worked.

He makes it fun. I’ve never had fun with history. Never.

It doesn’t hurt that every time he quizzes me on something and I get the answer right, he beams at me. It’s this stupidly proud smile that knocks the air out of me. More than once, it’s made my entire stomach feel warm and tingly. It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever experienced.

It’s almost like I want him to be proud. Like I want him to see that I’m taking this seriously. And when I don’t understand something, he doesn’t get mad or seem disappointed. He just sits quietly for a second, the wheels in his big, beautiful brain turning until he figures out a new plan of attack and gets right back into it.

Would it be strange to say that I find his intelligence… attractive? Not him, of course. Although, objectively, he is attractive. But that type of competency is attractive. It’s not all that dissimilar to the way I felt about the starting quarterback in high school my freshman year. He was like Darcy in that he exuded confidence and knowledge. He taught me almost everything I know about football.

By the time we’re finished, I feel prepared for my quiz in a way I usually don’t .

“I made copies of these notes for you to keep in case you wanted to study them some more,” Darcy says, handing me a small stack of papers.

I take them from him with a smile. “I’ll definitely study them. Hey, would you want to go to dinner tonight?”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise and then draw together in confusion. “Huh?”

“Dinner. You know? Food. The thing we need to live?”

Darcy smiles, but it doesn’t look quite right. Not his usual smile. “No, I know that. I guess it just threw me off that you asked. Uh, I have an early class tomorrow, so I really should be going.”

That makes sense, of course. It shouldn’t disappoint me. Hell, I have an early class tomorrow too, but there’s just something so fun and refreshing about hanging out with him. I think I’d like to do more of it outside of studying. “Okay,” I say with a nod. “Maybe another time?”

He hesitates, but finally nods. “Yeah, okay. Another time.” For a second, he looks like he wants to say something else, but instead he clears his throat. “Study your notes. You better not fail after all the work I’ve put into you.”

I laugh, my stomach feeling light. “All the work? The single tutoring session we had?”

“Hey, it took a lot of time to make those charts and learn about football for you.”

For me . I like that. “Fair. I’ll give you that.”

He laughs, walking to the front door. “Make sure you let me know how you did.”

“I will.”

I follow him to the door and shut it behind him when he walks out. I let out a heavy sigh as I make my way to the couch. After spending hours with Darcy’s enthusiasm and excitement, my living room feels cold and empty, so I decide to pack up the notes and head to bed.

Professor Sinclair drops my quiz in front of me, face down. I’m half-terrified to turn it around, but I know I have to. I feel confident about it. More than I have for any test in a long time. Mostly because anytime I got stuck on a question, I closed my eyes and pictured Darcy. His hands moving as he talked through the timeline. The smile on his face when I got something right. The sound of his voice as he explained things to me.

With a deep breath, I flip the paper over. My eyes widen as I stare down at it. I only missed one question. What? I felt confident while taking the quiz, but I’ve felt confident before and still failed. I flip the paper back and forth, worried that maybe I missed something, but when the grade doesn’t change, I relax into my seat with a smile on my face.

Professor Sinclair catches my eye from the front of the class and gives me a short nod.

He starts in on his lecture, and I studiously take notes. Notes that don’t make any sense to me right now, but notes I know Darcy will help me unravel later. I really want to send him a message, but he’ll probably have my ass if I text him during class. It seems like the kind of thing he’d get bent out of shape over.

As soon as class is over, I step into the hallway and snap a photo of my quiz to send to him .

I’m not expecting a quick response, but I get one almost immediately.

Darcy

You’re joking! That’s so awesome!

I can’t help the smile that forms on my lips.

Me

Couldn’t have done it without you.

Darcy

You’re right. ;)

That makes me chuckle. I love his witty sense of humor.

Me

So humble. Celebration dinner soon?

I stare at my phone for a few minutes and when he doesn’t text back, a wave of disappointment rushes over me. He’s probably in class, though, and even if he’s not, I have no reason to be disappointed.

Slipping my phone into my pocket, I continue my walk down the hall. Truthfully, this calls for a coffee celebration, so when I step out of the building, I make my way across campus to the coffee shop.

When I push through the doors, the scent of coffee almost overwhelms me. In a good way, though. The place is packed, so I get in line and pull my phone out. Darcy still hasn’t texted me back. It’s possible he just doesn’t want to hang out with me outside of tutoring. Which would be fine.

And again, he may be busy. I really need to calm the hell down.

Shoving my phone back into my pocket, I look around the room. My stomach does a little jump when I notice Darcy sitting in the corner. Coffee forgotten, I step out of the line and make my way to him.

He’s sitting with someone, but the two of them aren’t talking. Darcy is staring down at a notebook, writing away, lost in his own world. When I get to the table, I freeze. This is a little awkward. Why did I come over here?

I’m about to turn around and walk away when Darcy looks up. He looks confused for a split second, then he’s smiling. “Oh, hey.”

I wave, still feeling a little awkward. “Hey. I’ve never seen you in here before.”

Now why in the fuck would I say that?

The guy sitting with Darcy laughs, and I can feel my face heating up. Darcy shoots him a glare and then turns back to me. “I’m in here all the time. I see you come in. This is just the first time you’ve noticed me.”

Oh. “Well, that was a real shame on my part, then.”

The guy snickers again. Darcy huffs. “Must you be a menace everywhere you go?”

“Yep. It’s my brand.”

The two of them share a look, and Darcy rolls his eyes. “Pull up a chair and sit if you want. I’m just working on your next lesson.”

I gesture toward the line. “I’m actually going to grab a coffee. Can I get you two anything?”

“Oh. Polite. I like this one, Darce. ”

Darcy glares at his… friend? before dragging his eyes to me. “I’ll take a cinnamon tea, please?”

The guy Darcy’s with makes a fake gagging sound and I turn to him. He’s… striking. White-blond hair streaked with pink. Icy blue eyes. Even with something black smudged across his nose, he’s… something. Is this the type of guy Darcy goes for? Do I even care? “What about you, man?”

There’s a beat of silence and I sense Darcy tense, but he doesn’t say anything. The guy eyes me for a second, and I feel a bit like I fucked up somehow. “Not a man, actually.”

Oh. What does that mean? “I’m sorry?”

I glance at Darcy and his face is completely blank, not giving anything away.

The… person? holds their hand out to me, so I reach forward to shake it. “I’m Parker. You can call me Parker. Or Park would be fine too, I guess. My pronouns are they/them.”

Oh. Well, that makes a lot more sense. “Okay. No problem. I’m sorry.”

Parker shrugs. “You didn’t know. No harm, no foul.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you. So, coffee?”

They smile. “Sure, handsome. I’ll take it as sweet as they can make it.”

Handsome?

Parker’s face does something complicated and then they turn away, looking at Darcy again. “Did you just fucking kick me, Darcy?”

Darcy shrugs. “Maybe. Stop flirting.”

Parker smirks. “Oh, baby. I am who I am.”

Darcy huffs. “A menace. That’s what you are.”

“Okay, I’m going to go grab drinks. ”

Darcy flashes me a bright smile and I make my way to the line. Thankfully, it’s thinned some, and it doesn’t take me long to get everyone’s drinks and go back to the table.

I hand both of them their drinks and sit down beside Darcy. “So,” I start, leaning close to him. “What’s the next lesson, Professor Darcy?”

Parker gasps. “No fair. Why does he get to call you that?”

Darcy ignores them, instead turning to me with a grin. “The Reign of Terror. It’s fun.”

Oh, yeah. Sounds like a blast.