Victor: Her Ruthless Crush Theodora Taylor (fantasy books to read TXT) 📖

A new pang of sympathy resonated in my chest. I’d been so busy feeling guilty about not being able to help Byron. It never occurred to me that he was feeling the same way about not being able to help me.

“I’m not Dad.” I pointed out. “I don’t expect you, my little brother, to defend me or protect me just because you’re a boy and I’m a girl.”

“You should expect that,” Byron insisted. “I should have done better. If Jake’s grandfather wasn’t Dad’s boss…”

“Seriously, it’s okay,” I signed, cutting him off. “Don’t beat yourself up. Don’t be a Jake.”

We both let out a quiet snicker at my joke. But then he sobered to ask, “Are you and V…”

He dropped his hands abruptly, his head snapping to the right like a meerkat that had sensed something dangerous.

I followed the direction of his gaze to the end of the hallway. And sure enough, there was our tiger Mom at the other end of the hallway, glaring at us for not doing exactly as she said.

Gossip interrupted. After casting me a “talk more later” look, Byron tucked his head and disappeared into his room. And I did the same, changing out of my uniform into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.

To be fair, I did try to do my homework after that. I had an essay about the Edo period due Monday for my history class, and writing in Japanese wasn't one of my strong suits. The teacher had warned us that we would need to truly research it. With actual books—not a historical manga or a J-Drama from the video store like I’d been hoping.

She even warned us that most of the Edo-era shows were wildly inaccurate. I was pretty sure she’d been burned by foreign students before, so I needed to take this assignment super seriously.

And I did a first. I pulled out the one English language history book I’d been able to find in the school library, and I totally tried to read it. But I couldn’t concentrate, and the words swam together.

I'd hung my blazer on the back of my bedroom door when I changed. And try as I did to keep my eyes glued on my book, I couldn’t ignore Victor’s secret, ticking inside of its bottom left pocket. So loud, it became a pulse between my ears

What had his instructions meant anyway? How was I supposed to just know when I was ready to read his big secret?

My mind rewound to the fall, to the one request my father made before dropping me off at the home of “the Chinese boy.”

To tell him if Victor said something he should know.

My eyes wandered from the book to my uniform jacket. Was whatever Victor wrote in that note something I should tell my dad?

He said he had a secret like me. Maybe the note was a confession of something illegal he’d done. Or maybe he wanted to go to art school too. Or maybe he was finally ready to tell me his last name.

Or maybe I was overthinking it.

Maybe the secret was that he no longer wanted ASL tutoring. Bye-bye. That would make sense now that he was going to Tokyo Progressive. And if it was something as simple as that, I should just go over and open the note.

But I sat frozen at my desk. I could hear myself think over the secret’s noisy ticking, but I wasn't…

I wasn't ready. Not yet.

“What's this I hear about you two getting dropped off in a Bentley?” Dad demanded at dinner that night, just as we were about to tuck into mom’s dak galbi, a spicy chicken stir fry.

Byron and I exchanged looks. Well, that explained Mom’s strange lack of a tirade earlier. We should have known it was too good to be true.

She must have seen us getting out of Victor’s car from the window. And instead of asking us about it herself, she’d reported it straight to Dad when he woke up. My mom could be stubborn and fierce about our grades and getting into the right colleges. But when she got confused, she morphed into a total 50s housewife.

Byron came up with a partial-truth for both of us. “The guy Dawn's been tutoring enrolled at our school. He joined the basketball team, and he offered us a ride home.”

Mom's face crinkled with delicate confusion, and Dad went completely still.

“Victor Zhang?” Dad set down his chopsticks even though he hadn’t taken a bite of food yet. “Victor Zhang is going to Tokyo Progressive now?”

Zhang… So that was his last name. I guessed it wasn’t the huge secret I thought it was. Dad was dropping Victor’s government details like it was common knowledge.

“Yeah, he's cool,” Byron answered. “He's in my deaf studies track. Even though I guess he's not exactly deaf. Or maybe he just reads lips really, really good. I'm still not sure.”

Dad swiped his gaze to me. His expression was angry and accusatory. “I thought you said he went back to Hong Kong for good.”

I stayed calm on the outside, but on the inside, I was looking at Dad all kinds of sideways. The thing was, I hadn't said anything at all about Victor to my father after our last tutoring session. Not even about him leaving for Hong Kong for the winter break. How had Dad known Victor had left? And why was he acting like I gave him bad intel or something?

The note was ticking even louder now. I could hear it, even though it was back in my bedroom behind a closed door.

“I guess he changed his mind,” I mumbled to my dad.

A few minutes passed. Silent but loud.

Then Dad said, “Your mom wants you to focus on your studies. It's a crucial time with your college applications. Tell Victor Zhang that you don't have time to tutor him anymore.”

My heart didn't just sink. It plummeted.

“But I need that job…” I scrambled for a plausible reason and could only come up