Tutoring my Rival Boy novel · Chapter 1 of 24
Chapter 1: The Offer
Chris, behind on board money, is assigned to tutor his enemy Leander for $400 a week and accepts. Leander orders him to his room at nine.
The dean's office smelled like old books and lemon polish.
Chris Chesbro sat in the hard chair across from her desk with his hands flat on his knees.
In his blazer pocket was a folded letter from the bursar.
It said he owed six thousand two hundred dollars for board by October 25.
It was October 9.
He had read the letter so many times that the creases had gone soft.
"Chris, I'll be direct," the dean said.
"The Hale Fund no longer covers room and meals for scholars."
"Tuition is safe, but board is not."
"If it isn't paid, you will have to leave Harrowgate."
Chris kept his face still.
His town was forty miles away, and there was no bus.
If he left, he would not be coming back.
"I have one option," the dean said.
"It's a tutor's stipend, four hundred dollars a week, paid for by a gift from the Ashgrove family."
Chris felt his stomach drop before she said the name.
"For tutoring one student on academic probation."
The door behind him opened without a knock.
"Sorry I'm late," said a voice he knew very well.
Leander Ashgrove strolled in with his blazer open and his tie hanging loose.
His golden hair was swept back, and maybe he had.
He dropped into the chair beside Chris.
Then he saw who was sitting there, and he grinned.
"Oh, this is a joke."
"Mr. Ashgrove," the dean said.
"Sit properly and listen."
Leander slid down in his chair instead.
Chris was eighteen, and so was Leander.
Leander stood six foot one and captained the lacrosse team.
He was also the only person at Harrowgate Chris truly hated.
Last spring Chris had won the Calculus Prize.
Leander had expected it to be his.
The next day, in front of the whole dining hall, Leander had called him "the free lunch."
Chris had poured a full pitcher of ice water over Leander's lacrosse jacket.
They had not spoken since.
"Leander is failing Calculus and Chemistry," the dean said.
"If he fails the midterm in both, he loses the captaincy, and his father withdraws the gift."
"The gift pays for your stipend, Chris."
"So you both need this to work."
Leander laughed.
"You want me to be tutored by Scholarship?"
"His name is Chris," the dean said.
"He has the highest grade in the Senior Program."
"He also has a bursar's notice, so I think he will be motivated."
Chris felt his ears burn.
Leander had read the notice, then.
Or the dean had said it in front of him on purpose, and Chris did not know which was worse.
He stood up before his pride could change his mind.
"I'll do it," he said.
Leander's head turned.
"On terms."
"Terms," Leander repeated, delighted.
"The money is paid every Friday, in an envelope, to me, not through the school store account."
"Agreed," the dean said.
"Sessions are an hour, three times a week."
"If he is late, the hour still counts."
"If he doesn't do the work, I tell you, and you decide what to do about it."
"No favors, no errands, and nobody calls me Scholarship."
"Fair," the dean said.
Chris turned and looked straight at Leander for the first time in six months.
Up close, Leander's eyes were an irritating shade of green.
He was still smiling, but it didn't reach them.
"You're going to regret this, Chesbro," Leander said.
"I regret everything about you already," Chris said.
"I don't have anything left to add."
The dean put her fingers to her forehead and said nothing.
Leander stood, brushed invisible lint off his sleeve, and picked up his bag.
He was taller than Chris by a few inches, and he used every one of them.
"My room," he said.
"Ashgrove Hall, number nine, tonight at nine."
"Don't be late, Scholarship."
"Chris," said Chris.
"Scholarship," said Leander, and walked out.
The door clicked shut behind him.
Chris stared at the polished wood.
The dean slid a pen across the desk, with a form for the stipend.
He signed it, and his hand did not shake.
Nine o'clock would give him a full hour.
His night shift at the Field House started at ten, and nobody at Harrowgate knew he had one.
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