Chapter Nine- Our Teacher’s Praise

“What can I say to motivate you?” I wondered aloud, whacking a sleepy looking Dougie around the head with a Chemistry textbook. “Because you don’t seem to give a damn.”

He gave a snort of amusement, “I don’t.”

“Come on. Humour me. How did you manage to learn so much when you were faking?” I queried.

He offered me a charming smile, “I had the right motivation.”

“Tip: Sucking up to the tutor will do nothing.” I tapped my chin thoughtfully, “Well, if we’re latching onto that insecurity… Did I mention Harry likes smart people? If you don’t know your Chemistry, he’ll dump you.”

Another snort, “No, he won’t.”

“Okay. So you’re not totally thick.” I turned to face him properly on the bed, widening my eyes so I looked pleading but not so much that I looked crazed, “Look, Dougie. Can you please just try? If this friendship means anything to you.”

A blond eyebrow was cocked, “And if I don’t?”

“Then don’t expect me to speak to you ever again. You see, you slipped up when you faked studiousness. I know you’re capable now. You just can’t be bothered.”

He studied my face carefully, “I bet you would actually stop talking to me as well, just to prove a point.” He sighed, “Fine. I’ll try.”

I gave him a bright smile, “Thank you.”

*****

“C, Dougie. Well done,” Mrs. Dobson said in a pleased voice as she handed him his paper. “You must be doing something right, Tom,” she told me, handing over mine without even bothering to tell me my mark. Unless I was under my usual, she didn’t anymore.

Beside me, Dougie pumped his fist, “Yas! Progress!”

I grinned, “Yeah, and it’s only been two months. That’s really good. We’ll have you sorted by the exams.”

He picked up my paper, displayed the letter in red ink, “Will this be my reward?”

“I’m sure Harry would be happy to give you a different kind of reward on top of that.” I shrugged my shoulders, “An A is just ink. It’s what you do with it that matters. College. University. Employment. Telling your boyfriend you need a treat.” I paused, “Man, I need a boy.”

“I’m here,” he offered. I frowned. Was that hope I could hear beneath the jokey tone?