And They Were Roommates(16)
“French for not a tutor,” Jasper answers. “Apologies, this may be confusing for you since you don’t speak the world’s most romantic language like moi. Really, we deliver love letters.”
“Love letters?”
“Oui. Although some simply use the service to keep in touch with their girlfriends beyond the wall, I offer a much more popular, secondary option of writing love letters on their behalf. I am a renowned poet, after all. Then the other members bravely deliver them to the sister academy each week and pick up whatever the sister academy wishes to send back. Blaze delivers, mostly. Robby and Xavier step in, too, to avoid suspicion.”
My shock quickly turns to anger.
Somehow, writing to three other girls behind my back at camp wasn’t enough to knock Jasper’s love letter obsession out of his system.
“Why waste time on pointless love letters?” I say too sharply. I can’t help it. Now my principal-assigned job is impossible. These guys don’t tutor at all.
Jasper’s mouth hangs open. “Pointless? How else will these heartbroken souls stay in touch with their crushes and lovers across the cockblockade that divides our academies?”
People really do refer to that wall as a cockblockade. “They won’t?”
“Exactly! Saint Valentine would weep over so many young lovers being ripped apart.” He passionately clasps his hands together and looks to the ceiling. “Isn’t that right?”
Saint Valentine doesn’t respond. Neither do I.
Xavier does. “We operate under the tutoring program so that the academy doesn’t suspect us of breaking their biggest guideline—no talking to the sister academy. That’s why we only allow top fives to join.” He points at his number-three pin. He wasn’t top three of the second-year class, so he must be an upperclassman. “We aren’t seen as rulebreakers. Plus, we’re the only ones who can access the equestrian center that connects to both academies. Our way in to trade letters with a few other top fives who have their own long-established system.”
I glance around at the shelves, then the door. Maybe only the brightest of Valentine could pull this off. “How has this stayed a secret?”
“Before Jasper? No clue. It’s been tradition for years.” Xavier points at Jasper. “Nowadays, we rely on the principal’s nephew’s powers.”
Beside me, Jasper beams.
Unspoken Guideline 5: Principal’s nephew’s powers beat the guidelines.
“According to legend, when the academy was established in 1899, the administration set up the Student Teaching Remediation Interdisciplinary Program as a real tutoring program,” Jasper explains further. “Only a few months later did our brave forefathers start to set up a communication method with the sister campus instead. Allegedly, the librarians forgot this janitor closet existed, so it was usurped to keep their meetings about their letter deliveries a secret. We so valiantly carry on their mission—and continue to improve and grow.”
My mind sparks. I already wished that Delilah had forewarned me of several dreadful surprises since showing up here, but this might be the biggest one. Students on both campuses have seriously risked expulsion for being involved in this for a hundred years. All in the name of tradition.
Maybe I’ll never be able to understand the others at this academy. I pull out Principal Grimes’s note from my slacks. “Well, the principal asked me to join since no one’s grades are improving. They’re getting suspicious.”
The four non-tutors stare at the letter with fiery intensity.
Jasper sways so much that he stabilizes himself against a shelf. The waves of hair escaped from his stubby ponytail cast across his face. “My aunt? It’s over for us?”
“Nay,” says the short seaweed-bang boy from earlier—Blaze, apparently—who I now notice has tied his blazer sleeves around his neck, the rest fluttering behind him like a childish dress-up cape. Is he a student here? If he is, he must be a first year. “We won’t be defeated. I propose we outsource a face to keep the enemy off our trail. A courageous warrior who tutors at the study desks daily, in full view of the librarians, while we operate back here.”
“You came up with that quickly,” I say, impressed.
“We’ve already needed a new one for a while,” Xavier says, rising from his seat behind his book stack and tossing his pen on his notebook. “Sometimes first years come for real tutoring and threaten to complain to instructors, so we’d sic them on the previous Excellence Scholar you replaced. Jasper filled his shoes for a while but was…” His face scrunches.
“He told people they had brain damage,” Robby finishes from down the waiting line.
Jasper frowns. “They waste my time. I’m busy back here.”
“And we’ve been turned down by everyone we asked since,” Xavier adds.
I’m still stuck on the previous Excellence Scholar you replaced. I want to inquire more, but Blaze points his varsity ring at me so aggressively that I flinch.
“This eight-legs can be our face,” Blaze announces, pointing directly at me.
I glance at my legs. Only two. “Me?”
Jasper snaps off the shelf he’s been slumped over. Next thing I know, he’s slinging an arm over my shoulder and bumping our hips, his fragrance blasting my nostrils all over again. “Charlie even started a tutoring nonprofit in Queens. A fantastic idea!”