Chapter 2
Poppy
“Great job with that ending sentence. It leaves your essay on such a strong note.”
The freshman student beams at me. “You really think so?”
I nod and hand her back her paper. “Absolutely. This is such an improvement from your first draft.”
She lets out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Poppy. You’re the best.”
“You’re going to get an A on this paper. I can feel it.”
She thanks me again and leaves the Writing Center. Anna St. George, my best friend and fellow student tutor, smiles at me from across the room.
“You’re so good at this,” she says.
I shrug, but she shakes her head.
“I’m serious. You’re the most requested undergraduate tutor in the Writing Center,” Anna says. “You’re the whole reason why they started letting undergrads work at the Writing Center a year ago.”
I fight a smile at the way my best friend builds me up. “That’s probably just because of my YouTube channel.”
Anna tilts her head at me, then tosses a crumpled-up piece of paper at my shoulder.
“Listen to you humble brag,” she teases.
I chuckle as I pick up the ball of paper and drop it in the recycling bin. “I’m not humble-bragging. That channel is proof of what a mega nerd I am.”
“Poppy, it’s good to be the kind of mega nerd you are.
You’re twenty years old with a perfect GPA.
You have a popular YouTube channel with almost fifty thousand subscribers, where you break down difficult academic concepts for high school and college students.
And you spend your free time volunteering. You’re literally perfect.”
My cheeks ache when I grin at my best friend’s praise. “If this is your way of buttering me up to get me to cover your shift at the Writing Center, it’s working.”
Anna chuckles. “Just singing your praises. But yeah, if you could take my Thursday evening shift, that would be amazing. I’ll love you forever.”
“Sure. But only if you promise to buy me a pint of my favorite ice cream the next time we have a movie night at your place.”
She runs over and hugs me. “I’ll bring you two pints.”
“I’m kidding. You don’t need to bring me anything. Covering your shift can be my birthday gift to you, since you spent your twenty-first birthday studying last night for your physics exam this morning.”
She waves a hand. “You know I don’t care about partying.”
“I’m still taking you out for a belated birthday brunch this weekend.”
She smiles. “Seriously, thanks for covering me.”
“It’s no problem. What will you be up to?”
“Watching a live heart transplant. Georgetown University Transplant Center is live-streaming a transplant surgery that day, and a bunch of my premed friends and I are getting together to watch it.”
“Oh my god.” I try not to gag.
She winces. “Sorry. Sometimes I forget not everyone has the same interest in medicine as me.”
I shake my head and try to get the visual of blood and guts and organs out of my head. “It’s okay. I could use the distraction. Thinking about that gross surgery will help keep me from obsessing over that internship I’m still waiting to hear back about.”
Anna sits back down in her desk chair and looks at her laptop. “I can’t believe how long they’re waiting to tell you.”
I sigh and check my email on my laptop for the millionth time. Still no response.
“I can believe it,” I say. “They’re the top law firm in the entire city of Denver.
They only select one undergraduate intern every school year—almost always a junior.
And every high-achieving undergraduate student in the country who’s interested in corporate law applied for it.
I still remember the way my nerves went haywire this summer when I walked into the reception area and saw all the people who were waiting to interview. ”
Anna waves a hand like it’s some minor detail. “You have just as good a shot as anyone, Poppy. You’re so smart and so hardworking. And you’re the most impressive junior enrolled at Hollis.”
I manage a small smile despite the uncertain feeling inside of me. It’s probably not good news that it’s taken months for the firm to make a decision. That means the applicant pool was insanely competitive.
A flicker of dread settles in my stomach. If I don’t get this internship, my parents will be so disappointed in me. And the thought of disappointing them makes me want to crawl out of my skin.
Being raised by two mega-successful lawyers has its perks for sure. I went to the best schools. I never had to worry about money growing up. Everything in my life is paid for by them. I just have to hold up my end of the bargain: be the perfect daughter in every way.
Perfect grades. Perfect test scores. Never, ever get into trouble. Never, ever deviate from the plan they crafted for me since I was born.
Work hard and excel in school. Get into Hollis University, their alma mater. Get a perfect LSAT score. Graduate at the top of my class and get into a Top Ten law school. Graduate at the top of that as well. Then work for their hugely successful law firm.
And most important: never stop to ask myself if I want any of this—if I even want to be a lawyer.
I ignore the uneasy feeling gnawing through my gut. Of course I want to be a lawyer. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.
I refocus on my conversation with Anna. She shuts her laptop. “I should get going. Don’t wanna be late for study group. My Organic Chemistry classmates are hardcore. The group leader, Isaac, locks the door to the study room in the library and refuses to let you in if you’re late, even by a minute.”
“You pre-med types are psycho.”
Anna gives me another hug. “Aww, you love your pre-med psycho best friend.”
“Of course I do.” I laugh and wave bye as she leaves.
I check the Writing Center schedule online and see that the last tutoring appointment for this afternoon canceled, which means I can leave early.
I’m in the middle of packing up when I hear a soft knock at the open door. When I look up and see Nick St. George leaning against the open doorway.
“Hey, hot tutor.”
I roll my eyes. “What do you want, Nick?”
“Just missed your beautiful face.”
I huff out a breath, annoyed at the surprise sight of my best friend’s twin brother. Yeah, he’s sexy as hell. Yeah, I used to have a crush on him in middle school. And high school. That doesn’t change the fact that he’s obnoxious and cocky and forever getting on my nerves.
My gaze falls to his shirt. I glower at the obscene writing.
Don’t bully me, I’ll cum.
“That shirt is disgusting,” I say.
His cocky grin doesn’t budge. “Oh, come on, it’s funny.” He wags an eyebrow. “And true.”
I ignore the flicker of intrigue that sets off inside of me. He can’t be serious.
“What do you want?” I ask again.
He pushes off the door frame and saunters over to me in that quietly confident way that all guys like him walk.
Like he’s hot and he knows it. Like he’s got a massive cock and knows it too…which is true based on the rumors I’ve heard about him from the many female students who go to this school, who have hooked up with him.
I clear my throat and try not to think about the size of Nick’s cock and instead refocus on how annoyed I am that he showed up without an appointment at my job and is now keeping me from leaving.
His mouth lifts in a half-smile. “I need your help, hot tutor.”
“I have a name, Nick. If you want to even think about asking for my help, you should start by calling me by it and not some gross nickname.”
He runs a hand through his shaggy, messy, chocolate-brown hair. His smug smile still dances on his lips.
“Poppy. I need your help.”
I zip up my backpack, refusing to look at him. “With what?”
“With my grades. I’m not doing well in a few of my classes and need a tutor.”
I glance up and try not to get distracted by his ridiculously square jaw or the mesmerizing color of his bourbon brown eyes. “So your party boy lifestyle has finally caught up with you, huh?”
He nods once. “It has.”
I scoff. I think about how Nick has coasted through high school and college. He’s the exact opposite of his twin sister Anna, who has always studied hard and earned top grades her whole life.
Nick puts in the bare minimum to pass his classes, then spends the rest of his time playing hockey, partying, and hooking up.
“Sorry to hear you’re finally dealing with the consequences of your behavior,” I say sarcastically. “I can’t help you, though.”
I start to walk off, but he catches my wrist with his massive hand.
I turn around to look at him, and try my hardest to ignore the tingle in my skin where he’s touching me.
When I focus on his face, I notice a shift in his expression. He’s still smiling, but it’s softer now. The cocky edge is gone, leaving behind something raw in his stare.
“Please, Poppy? I’ll get down on my knees and beg if I have to.”
Heat flashes across my skin at the low, rough sound of his voice. Just the sound of his voice, all soft and growly like this, and I’m transported back to high school, when I was a shy, nerdy girl crushing hard on my best friend’s twin brother, but he barely noticed me.
Except that one day, junior year of high school, when he asked me to prom in the crowded lunch room, in front of the whole school.
I thought he was serious. I thought he liked me.
But right after he asked me, he burst out laughing. And that’s when I knew it was all a joke. Of course it was. Because no way on earth would a handsome and cocky jock like Nick want to take me, the biggest nerd on the planet, to prom.
That familiar embarrassed feeling surfaces once more.
My defenses sprout up, and I look him in the eye. “Find someone else.”
I walk out of the room without another glance at Nick St. George.