I blow out a breath. “That trying to kill white sperm whales is a really bad idea.”
She giggles and taps her pen on my knee. “Professor Pilscher is looking for relatable human experience, so try and think about something in your life that you can apply it to. Like…” Her lips twitch again. “Like football. That’s your passion, right?”
“Yeah.” I sit up a little straight, that one word giving me a small confidence boost. I can talk football all damn day.
“Okay, so let’s pretend that another player did something bad—like an illegal play—and you were injured because of it.”
“Don’t even say that,” I mumble.
She giggles again. It’s a cute sound. “We’re just pretending. Now, how would you feel?”
“If I couldn’t play anymore?”
“Yeah.”
“Like my life is over.”
Her eyebrows wrinkle. My answer obviously makes her sad or maybe confuses her, but she doesn’t sayanything, just nods and keeps going. “And if a particular person was responsible for… destroying your life that way, what would you want to do about it?”
I raise my eyebrows at her. “What would Iwantto do, or whatshouldI do?”
“Exactly,” she whispers, her eyes lighting with a bright smile. “You’ve got the makings of a great essay here, Wily. We’re going to pretend that Ahab is an injured football player, and we’re going to imagine how he could have messed up his life by being obsessed with revenge against the person who hurt him. And then we’re going to compare it to how a successful person can overcome their grief and ultimately triumph. It’d be great if we could find some real-life examples from your history—either from your own experiences with football or maybe a player you’ve looked up to and admired.”
I sit back, my lips parting as I stare at her.
“Sound good?”
“Sounds… doable.”
And there goes her smile, stretching full and wide across her round face, and making me feel like a million fucking bucks.
CHAPTER 12
ELIZABETH
I’m really proud of Wily.
By the time our tutoring session wrapped up, he looked like he actuallywantedto work on the essay with me. The fidget toy I gave him seemed to help, and I’m glad I’d spent some time researching strategies for supporting reluctant learners.
Fidget toys popped up a few times, and I figured it was worth a shot. I’m so relieved, because I do think it helped him focus. His hands were busy the whole session, yet his brain was engaged with me and what I was trying to draw out of him.
I’m so stoked that the answers he came up with were actually his own. He’s seriously not stupid. He just needs to be asked the right questions.
And it led to some great discussions. I ended up staying way longer than I meant to, and time disappeared as Ahab was set aside so Wily could explain the rules of football to me. There are alot, and I struggled to follow all of them. It’s a complex game for someone who hasn’tgrown up watching it, but he was patient, answering all my questions and obviously happy that I seemed interested. He drew me pictures and diagrams, enthusiasm bubbling out of him. I’m not sure he was even aware of how much brighter his tone was, how much faster his words came as he explained the game to me.
His joy.
His passion.
It was a pleasure to watch, and my brain is already ticking over with ways I can use football to make this essay as easy for him as possible.
Just before I left, we set up another tutoring session for this afternoon.
And here I am, sitting in the library feeling all proud of Wily Wilson again.
We’re tucked away in a back corner where no one can see us, and Wily is telling me in a whisper-soft voice why he thinks Captain Ahab behaved the way he did. Seriously, the guy is going way deeper than I thought he would, and I’m typing down his words, desperately trying to keep up with him.
This essay is going to need a lot of editing, and we’ll have to ditch some of this stuff, but I’m loving this brain dump. Wily has got some great ideas here, and I’ll definitely be able to help him shape them.
