Four Of A Kind

Chapter 142: [3.44] Breaking the Rules

I tried to focus on Cassidy’s work. Really, I did.

Problem twenty stared up at me from the graph paper, color-coded and methodical, with red circles around the variable and blue arrows showing where she’d moved terms across the equals sign. The setup was perfect. The factoring was correct. Then somewhere around step four, the numbers had apparently decided to throw a party and invite chaos as the guest of honor.

“So you got here,” I pointed at the step where everything fell apart, “and then what happened?”

Cassidy leaned forward. Her glasses slid down her nose. “I multiplied both sides by negative one to get rid of the negative x, and then I—”

Sabrina’s fingers slid into my hair.

My train of thought derailed. Crashed. Exploded into flames.

Her fingertips traced slow circles against my scalp. The kind of touch that made my spine forget how bones worked. She was still reading her book with her free hand, completely absorbed in whatever gothic tragedy she’d chosen today, like she wasn’t currently destroying my ability to form coherent sentences.

“Isaiah?” Cassidy was watching me. “You good?”

“Fine.”

“Your face says you’re having a stroke.”

Sabrina’s fingers found the base of my skull. Pressed gently.

I was having several problems. None of them were medically diagnosable.

“Continue,” I managed.

Cassidy frowned at her work. “So after I multiplied by negative one, the answer should be x equals seven, but the back of the book says it’s negative seven, and I don’t understand where I—”

“You forgot the negative stayed with the entire side,” Sabrina said without looking up from her book. “The negative one distributes across everything. You only applied it to the coefficient.”

Cassidy’s head snapped toward her sister. “I didn’t ask you.”

“You were taking too long.”

“Isaiah’s the one tutoring me. Not you.”

“Isaiah’s distracted.” Sabrina turned a page. Her fingers were still doing whatever sorcery they were doing to my scalp. “I’m helping.”

“By sitting on him and making it HARDER for him to focus?”

“Multitasking.”

My internal monologue was filing a formal complaint with upper management. Upper management had abandoned ship approximately three minutes ago.

Cassidy’s jaw set. That look I’d learned to recognize. The one that meant she was about to dig her heels in and refuse to move until the earth’s rotation stopped.

“Problem twenty-one,” she said. Flipped to the next page. “Isaiah. Not Sabrina. YOU explain this one.”

Sabrina’s hand moved from my hair to my cheek. Cupped it gently. Turned my face slightly toward hers.

Her purple eyes were half-lidded. Sleepy. But watching me with something that felt like scientific curiosity mixed with mild amusement.

“You’re warm,” she said.

“Sabrina.”

“Warmer than usual. Is this embarrassment or—”

“Stop.” Cassidy’s voice cracked. “Just stop. This is MY time. My tutoring session. My bet with Isaiah. You don’t get to just…” She gestured wildly at the situation. At Sabrina draped across my lap like she’d claimed territory. “Whatever this is.”

“I’m using a ticket.”

“I DON’T CARE.”

The words came out louder than Cassidy probably intended. Echoed off the library’s high ceilings. Bounced between the bookshelves.

For exactly two seconds, Cassidy looked like she’d been slapped. Her eyes went shiny at the corners. Not crying. But close enough to make my chest hurt.

Then her mask slammed back into place. The scowl. The crossed arms. The aggressive lean backward in her chair.

“Forget it,” she muttered. “Do whatever you want. It’s fine.”

It was not fine.

I could read Cassidy well enough now to know when she was actually angry versus when she was hurt. This was the second one. The worse one.

And Sabrina, who supposedly saw everything, had her eyes closed now. Still touching my face. Still reading. Still pretending like she hadn’t just watched her sister’s expression crack.

My fault. I’d let this happen. Let Sabrina turn me into furniture mid-session because I’d been too distracted by the feeling of her against me to enforce basic boundaries.

Some tutor I was.

“Sabrina.” My voice came out quieter than I meant it to. “Get up.”

Her eyes opened. “My ticket—”

“You can have it back.”

She blinked. Once. Slow. Like processing a foreign language. “What?”

“I’m canceling the ticket. You get to keep it. Use it later. But right now, you need to get up.”

“But—”

“This is Cassidy’s time.” I met those purple eyes directly. Made sure she understood I wasn’t joking. “She worked three hours last night on practice problems. She showed up early. She’s trying. And it’s not fair to her if I spend the whole session distracted because you’re using me as a weighted blanket.”

Sabrina’s expression didn’t change. The neutral mask stayed perfectly in place.

But something flickered behind her eyes. Surprise, maybe. Or respect. Hard to tell with her.

“You’re refusing a ticket return,” she said slowly. “That’s against the rules.”

“Then change the rules.”

“The rules were that you can’t refuse.”

“And I’m choosing to anyway.” I kept my voice level. Calm. “Because this isn’t about the game anymore. This is about Cassidy actually learning something, and she can’t do that if I’m distracted.”

Cassidy made a sound. A weird, choked little gasp that she immediately tried to cover with a cough.

Sabrina studied my face for what felt like seventeen years. Then she nodded once. Released my shoulders. Stood up in a single smooth motion that made it look like she was floating instead of getting off someone’s lap.

“Interesting,” she said.

“What’s interesting?”

“You.” She picked up her book. Adjusted her skirt. “You keep surprising me. I thought I had you figured out.”

“And?”

“And I was wrong.” A ghost of a smile touched her lips. Gone before I could confirm it existed. “That doesn’t happen often.”

She walked toward the door. Her footsteps made no sound against the carpet. Right before she reached the exit, she stopped. Turned halfway back.

“Since you stopped my ticket,” she said, “I’ll just make it so this weekend, you have to sleep in my room with me.”

My brain experienced a full system crash.

“What.”

“Not as a ticket. As a request.” Her head tilted.

“You can refuse if you want. But I’d prefer you didn’t.”