“Work on the last sentence to make sure there isn’t a preposition at the end and you’re finished.”
Chad, my first tutee, gave me a lazy smile and worked on rewording his sentence. A sense of pride swelled in my chest at the sight of
his accomplishment. I’d always loved to write, but I never thought about helping others.
When he finished, he thanked me, signed out, and left me in an empty writing center. India groaned while she leaned back and
stretched in her corner of the room. She’d dyed her hair pink this week, but it suited her.
Her pore-less, coffee-colored skin worked with anything it seemed like.
“Good job today, Lee. You’re a natural.”
“Thank you. It feels good.” I glanced at the clock. “I guess it’s time for me to go.” I grabbed my bag from the floor.
India stood up when
