“Whatever you think works best,” he says, reaching for the study guide. He flips through it idly, but as his eyes flicker over the text, his eyebrows rise. I wince, remembering my irritation when I was making it.

“Ignore that,” I say, reaching over to take it back. He lets me without protest but as he reclines, he watches me with a different look in his eye. He bites his lollipop, and I hear the sharp crunch of candy.

I tuck the study guide into my binder. Ace keeps watching me as he sets the leftover stick on the table. Even though it’s so unhygienic, I restrain my urge to throw the stick away. I don’t know if Ace would still be here when I got back.

“Okay, do you want to start with The Great Gatsby, The Merchant of Venice, or The Scarlet Letter?”

“Never heard of any of those,” he says, reaching forward to steal my pencil.

I stare at him, wondering if he’s being serious. There’s no way he doesn’t know those titles. I have to believe he’s joking for my own sanity.

“I’ll choose then,” I say, moving along. “Let’s start with The Scarlet Letter.”

Ace gestures for me to go ahead with a flick of his fingers. He hasn’t stopped staring at me, and his intense gaze is making me increasingly restless.

“Okay,” I murmur, taking The Scarlet Letter from my bag and flipping it open. “I thought we could begin with chapter analyses. Since we already read this book in the fall, we’re familiar with the themes and underlying messages, which means we can be more analytical with foresight. Why don’t you tell me your overall thoughts on the book so we can figure out which angle we want to tackle first?”

Ace furrows his thick eyebrows. “What angle do you want to tackle first? I’ve seriously never read it. I only know it by name.”

I clench my hands but somehow withhold a sigh.

“Okay. Well, I prefer looking at Hester’s character in a feminist light and how, despite feminism not existing within the time period this was written, Hawthorne wrote her as being resilient, rebellious, and free to think in ways that stood apart from the rest of society,” I say, pointing to the book. My words are rushing into each other, as I actively try not to ramble. “I know some people think Hester’s choice to continue wearing the A at the end of the book is her conforming to misogynistic ideals, but I think by choosing to wear it instead of being forced to wear it, she’s claiming back her agency.”

Ace leans forward, and his combat boots knock into my worn-in Converse. His eyes are too pretty and too disconcerting. “You like English.”