All That Really Matters - Nicole Deese Page 0,39

I wasn’t ready to step into any classroom without him. Funny how a mere situational change could cause your adversary to become your safety net.

Silas turned back and glanced over my head. “There’s really no need. I’ll just be a moment. Clara can help you with whatever you need for class.”

I exhaled a deep breath but made no attempt to move toward the classroom.

“Molly,” he said with a dip of his chin.

“It’s just, I think it might be best if—”

Once again he pointed to the open door behind me, to where a short-statured young woman smiled and waved.

“Meet Clara,” Silas said. “My future sister-in-law and our math genius extraordinaire. Clara, meet our guest speaker for the night, Molly McKenzie.”

As it turned out, Clara was not the embodiment of a member of Mean Girls circa 2004. She was, in fact, a petite midtwenties Asian woman with a cute A-line haircut and an adorable pair of black-and-white polka-dotted glasses.

“Hi, Molly.” She offered her hand along with a bright smile.

“Your glasses are super cute.”

“Really?” She touched the bridge of her nose and slid them upward a half inch. “I just got them. They’re actually way out of my comfort zone, but . . .” She snapped her mouth shut and then seemed to think twice.

“But what?”

She leaned in closer and lowered her voice. “I watched your video on how to find trendy frames that fit your face. I followed your tips.”

I couldn’t have been more surprised than if she’d told me she’d stolen the glasses off some unsuspecting person at a bus stop.

“You watched my . . .” I shook my head. “But how did you even know where to find—”

“Jake.” She beamed. “He told me your name, and it didn’t take long to find you online. We ended up watching one after another, straight through dinner.” Again, she pursed her lips. “I was super nervous about tonight. I’ve never met a famous person before.”

“Oh gosh, I’m not famous.” I laughed, grateful the classroom was empty minus Clara.

“Maybe not by your standards, but I don’t know anybody in real life who has six hundred ninety-four thousand subscribers on YouTube alone. That’s definitely celebrity status in my opinion.”

Again, I had to laugh. “You really do love numbers.”

She shrugged. “I have a weird knack for remembering whatever number I see. Even if it was years ago. They just stick in my head.”

I turned back toward the door, hearing groups of footsteps coming down the hall.

“That will be a few of the guys on the set-up crew. They’ll arrange the tables and chairs. We still have about twenty minutes before we start, though. So whatever I can help you with, just let me know. Need an HDMI cord for your laptop?”

I nodded, too afraid my racing heart might actually shoot right out of my throat if I opened my mouth. What is wrong with me?

“Sure thing. I have one right here.” Clara reached into a cabinet nearby and handed me the cord. “I’ll erase all this, too, so you can have access to the entire whiteboard if you need it.” She began erasing a dozen or more equations—numbers and letters mixed into a queasy blend of math I had zero reference for. “I get here a bit early on Tuesdays to tutor before mandatory starts.”

“Mandatory?”

“That’s what the kids call Tuesday night classes.”

“Wait, like, they’re forced to be here?”

Again, she hiked up her glasses and smiled. “They’re not led here in chains or anything, but yeah, they have to come. It’s a part of the commitment they sign to live at The Bridge.”

Great, so not only would tonight’s trial class not be an elective class they chose to participate in, but these kids were actually required to attend my class to keep a roof over their heads. No pressure.

As if Clara could sense my brain overheating, she said, “They’ll love you, though. I know it.”

“I’m not too sure about that at the moment,” I said with more honesty than I usually allowed myself on a first meeting, but it was too hard to filter my words when I could barely take in a full breath.

“Well, I am. Because you’re funny, and these kids haven’t had enough funny in their lives . . . humor is one of the best ways to get through to them. Just pretend you’re giving one of your fun tutorials, only instead of talking to a camera lens, you’ll be looking at a bunch of eighteen-to-twenty-one-year-olds.”

Just pretend you’re giving one of your fun