Joss proves to be a quick learner, and he pays well, so Eli doesn’t mind their tutoring arrangement but for one reason. It’s Joss he’s tutoring. And he drives Eli crazy.

Again, the same as the English project, Joss is much better when it’s only him. He’s softer, more respectful, full of fast quips and clever words. It makes Eliseo feel special. He knows that he’s not special, but his heart can’t handle the truth.

They meet every Tuesday and Friday, at Joss’s house. Eli mostly bikes over, the crisp air nipping at his ears and nose as he cruises through streets with steadily bigger houses.

For the record, Joss’s house is huge. His parents never seem to be home, and there’s always leftovers of some fancy meal in the fridge for them to snack on as they work. Finals are fast approaching, and they’re steadily staying later and later, the hours bleeding together until Eli picks himself off of the floor for patrol duty, 30 minutes away. The week before finals, Hernán tells him that he can have this Friday off, to study.

None of the Leóns know that he’s been helping Joss. He has a feeling that they’d commit homicide if they knew that he’d been hanging out with the asshole that had slurred him. Eli doesn’t think that many people see Joss this relaxed. He’s heard everything about Joss, good and bad, but in none of it was anything less than extreme. Never relaxed, never calm, never patient.

Joss is those things, and more, when Eli is over. He’s even generous, giving Eli a few extra dollars when he helps him solve a particularly hard equation, and sometimes giving Eli a little help for free. Eli almost wants to tell Joss to stop paying him, for all the fun he derives from the sessions.

Joss swings open the refrigerator with a bang. “God, there’s nothing to fucking eat in this fucking house. I guess we’ll starve.” He stumps off towards the living room.

He’s being melodramatic, and they both know it. Eli grabs an armful of cracker boxes and follows, seating himself in what has become his favorite spot, a pile of cushions.

“What do you want to do this time? Review quadratic equations before the test?”

“God, the test!” Joss groans. “You’d think he has molasses for a brain, and everything he learns just sticks there for eternity. Like, no one has a sticky brain like you, freako!”

Eli chuckles, “You’ll do fine and you know it.”

“I know. I’m actually pretty stressed, though. I want to go over everything. Do you think you could stay over tonight?” He says the last question with his arm thrown over his eyes, pseudo-casual.

“Probably,” Eli says. The speed of his answer seems to surprise even him. “I can call my parents. Give me a second.”

“Don’t you have patrol duty or something?”

“No, Hernán gave me the day off to study.”

“And you’re going to spend it with me?” Joss looks like he instantly regrets saying that, so Eli does him a solid and pretends that the question was never asked. He picks up his phone and exits, dialing his mom’s number.

A few minutes later, when he comes back into the room, Joss is lying on the floor, math sheets spread all around him, one hand grasping an invisible object.

He mimes raising a knife, and stabs himself in the chest.

“It’s killed me. Finally. I see a light. Grandma, is that you?” His hand stretches up, and then flops to the ground, lifeless.

Despite himself, Eliseo laughs, causing Joss to break character and crack a smile.

“I can stay. Why has the math killed you?”

“You can stay? Great, bruh.”

“Math.”

“Right. So I took a peek at the old quadratic worksheets and I don’t get it at all. It could be in fucking Arabic or some shit and it’d still look just as foreign.”

“I know you know this. It’s just the basics of what we’ve been working on this last week. Here,” Eli jots down an example problem, and the formula. “You just plug in the numbers.”

“You only plug it in? It’s that simple?”

“Yup, just plugging it in.”

“That’s what she said.”

Eli looks over, and Joss’s face is so neutral that it has to be fake. He pokes him, and Joss chuckles. “Look at the page, not me. I need to learn this shit all over again by Monday.”

They work themselves to exhaustion, until they’re slumping over the coffee table, blankets pillowed beneath their heads.

“Maybe… if we just took a little break…” Eli says, fully aware that he’ll fall asleep.

“You shitty pretty biker boy, you can’t abandon me to do this shit by myself.”

“I can… you’re doing…” he looks about to nod off right there.

“I’m doing what?”

“Just fine by yourself,” Eli mumbles. He doesn’t really know what he’s saying. It’s way too late; his brain shut off hours ago at midnight.

“Thanks, bruh, but I wouldn’t be here without your help. And…” Joss pauses. He’s worn down by the night, his sharp edges softened, “I’m sorry… I was such an asshole. I regret it.”

“S’ all right,” Eli mumbles.

“Bruh,” Joss sets an arm around Eli’s shoulders, and Eli just lets it be. He likes the pressure, the reassurance that Joss is still right there. His eyes slide closed, and he sinks into sleep more softly than he has in weeks.