First and Goal (Moving the Chains #1) by Kata Čuić Read Free Book Online

nothin’.
    He cocks his head to the side and sighs. “Let me put it another way…you know how on a big hill, you’ll see a steep grade sign for trucks, and it’ll tell you the percentage of the slope, right?”
    “Yeah, I’ve seen those.”
    “Good. That percentage is a measurement of how steep the hill is. Zero being flat and one hundred percent being vertical. We can find that slope by measuring between two points and creating a right triangle. You following me?”
    Yeah, actually. I am. My mind suddenly gets on board with this lesson. Real-life examples are so much more tangible to me than rote memorization. If Mr. Smith taught this way, failing wouldn’t be an issue.
    “In calculus, we want to find the tangent, or slope, of a single point. Not using two points and creating the triangle. And that’s where the derivative comes in.” He illustrates his points in my notebook with a pen as he speaks.
    His handwriting is neat and concise, much easier to read than most guys’ chicken scratch. He continues explaining the basics of the first chapter to me. It would’ve taken me hours and hours to figure all this out on my own.
    When he’s finished, my irritation at the piss-poor instruction in the classroom bubbles over. “Well, why didn’t he just explain it that way in the first place?”
    Rob laughs. “Because he’s been doing this for close to fifty years and just doesn’t give a shit anymore.” He turns to look at me, jumping when he finds me nearly against him. “Where did you come from?”
    This act of his needs to stop. As if he hadn’t noticed and been enjoying the fact that I was playing right into his little trap. “I’ve been here the whole time listening to you like a good little student.”
    “Oh…uh, okay.” He shakes his head subtly and scoots his own chair over to put more appropriate distance between us. “Does that make more sense to you now?”
    I sigh and fold both my arms on the table, laying my head down on top.
    “Yeah,” I moan. Godammit, it really does.
    “Well, why is that a bad thing?” The sound of him drumming his fingers against the desktop in a quick beat floats to my ears. He actually has a pretty strong sense of rhythm. Maybe it’s all that singing in the shower.
    “Because now I know I really do need your help with calc, and you are actually a pretty good teacher,” I whine into my arms. Oh, this has the potential to turn out so poorly.
    “Well, then same bat time, same bat channel tomorrow?”
    Oh, hell no. I definitely do not need the old geeky Rob. I still need the asshole Rob to do this. Sort of. Maybe?
    I quickly rise and throw my stuff into my backpack without looking in his direction. “Yeah, fine.”
    “Sheesh, don’t act so happy about it,” he says sarcastically, packing his books into his own bag.
    “I’m not.”
    He rolls his eyes and stands to leave with me. “Why do you hate me so much, Eva? I’ve never been anything but nice to you.”
    I’m unprepared and thereby floored by his question, so I answer with the first thought that pops into my muddled brain. “You’re an obnoxious, hulking jock, Falls. What’s not to hate?”
    He studies me intently as he towers over me.
    His gaze makes me feel as though I’m his own personal microscopic experiment, and he’s trying to find the only viable specimen that’s been growing for weeks amidst garbage in the agar.
    “What in the hell happened to you, Evie? Where did you go? Because this…” He gestures at me with his large hand. “This is not you.”
    The truth in his words, and the fact that he’s the only person to have called me out on it in nearly a year flushes my face with heat. “Oh, you’re one to talk. Nothing about you is the same, either. You don’t look the same; you don’t act the same. Hell, you don’t even talk the same. The Rob Falls I knew was a shy, smart, gangly boy. Now you’re just like all the other dumb jock football players, complete with groupies tripping