Chapter Five
Sophie
Damian is late.
I don’t know why I thought he would come on time—heck, I thought he might even arrive before me.
I guess there’s always this hope in me that people are good, or at least that they strive to be, no matter what they’re going through.
But I seriously doubt a guy like Damian would jump for joy at the prospect of spending every afternoon with a tutor.
But I like to give everyone a chance, so I take out my novel and dive right back in as I wait.
It doesn’t take long for the real world to disappear and be replaced by this wonderful fictional world the author created.
True it’s not a fantasy, but it feels like a magical world because the book is so perfect.
I’ve laughed, cried, swooned, and yelled along with the characters as though I’ve felt like I was going through it myself.
And of course the romance is super duper chef’s kiss.
If I were to die today, I would definitely die a happy woman.
The female main character thinks the boy she’s in love with wrote her all these romantic poems, but it turns out it’s really her best friend.
He assumes she’d never fall for a nerdy guy like him because she’s like the most popular girl at school.
And she’s also super nice, which means that basically all the guys at school want a chance to be with her.
But she has her eyes on the gorgeous new guy—not because of his good looks, though.
Because she thinks he wrote the poems. Our young hero doesn’t realize that the girl of his dreams would rather choose a person with a good heart over good looks—
Someone clears their throat, yanking me out of my book. I lift my head and find a guy standing before me. Dark hair, hazel eyes, a leather jacket instead of the school’s green blazer, and the top two buttons of his shirt undone. And he took off his tie.
“You changed into your leather jacket?” I blurt before I can stop myself. Then I quickly shake my head. “I mean, hi! You came. Great. I mean, you’re a little late, but that’s okay. Did you have trouble finding the library?”
He pulls out the chair across from me and drops down on it. “I found it all right.”
“Cool.” I place my bookmark in the spot I’m up to and stuff my book into my backpack. “Are you ready to start?”
He folds his arms across his chest and dips the chair back a little. “No.”
I freeze, reaching for my chemistry textbook and glance at him.
“But I’m here, aren’t I?” he grumbles.
“I know it can be frustrating,” I say as I open the textbook to the correct page. “But needing a tutor has nothing to do with intelligence. I’ve tutored lots of super smart people. Sometimes, people just need a little help.”
He keeps his eyes on me for a bit before saying, “Good to know.”
“Don’t worry.” I put on an encouraging smile.
“You’ll see that you’ll know this stuff backward and forward before you can even blink.
Not to pat myself on the back or toot my own horn, but I am a very gifted tutor.
” I flash him another smile, hoping to calm him down in case he’s nervous, or at least to sprinkle some positivity into what feels like negative air.
He tightens his arms over his chest and glares down at my textbook.
I clear my throat. “So let’s start with chem. I’m sorry Mrs. Sullivan was rude to you at the start of class. She’s a pretty tough cookie, but then again, most teachers at Harrington Bay Academy are—”
“Don’t do that next time,” he says.
My lips snap shut for a second. “What?”
“Fight my battles. I can handle myself.”
“I’m sure you can,” I say as I reach for my notebook.
“But she didn’t understand the circumstances.
I just felt like she needed an explanation.
” Before he can say anything, I continue with, “Look, I’m your tutor, okay?
I’m responsible for catching you up and making sure you understand what’s going on in your classes.
If a teacher is being a jerk to a new student because she wants to project her authority or whatever, I’m going to stand up for said student.
It’s ridiculous for her to assume your old school is at the same level as this one. Mine certainly wasn’t.”
He lifts a brow. “You were a new student?”
“No. I’ve been on scholarship at this school since ninth grade.
But coming to this high academic school after my middle school?
I felt like I walked into a college class.
All the students were so much more advanced than me.
It took some time before I was up to speed.
The same with the friends I made with the other scholarship kids. ”
He watches me for a few seconds. I have no idea how to read his face and have no clue what’s going on in his head. But it feels like he’s staring at me for ten hours.
He tears his gaze away. “Never thought the school’s goody-goody would stick up for the school reject.”
“First of all, I don’t appreciate the term ‘good-goody.’ Second of all, you’re not the school reject, and you sure as heck won’t be under my watch. So if it’s okay with you, can we start? I still need to assess where you’re holding and how much we need to work on.”
He grunts as a response. I try not to sigh. I knew it might not be easy tutoring this dude, but like I said before, I want to be positive. Considering he’s the son of the principal, of course I feel more pressured to make sure he understands all this stuff.
He didn’t bring his textbook and he didn’t write down any notes during chem class—or any of his classes.
I’ve tutored some difficult students before, but none like Damian.
The fact that he didn’t even try to learn anything today makes me feel both annoyed and sympathetic.
Annoyed because he’s either lazy or rebellious, and sympathetic because I can’t help but sense that there’s something else going on.
That he’s not just being rude for the heck of it.
But whatever the case, I do what I’m good at—helping students understand the material. He seems to listen, but I really have no idea if he’s understanding any of it because he’s not saying much. He doesn’t even nod.
While trying to go over what we covered in math, he finally speaks. “Were you tutoring someone before I arrived?”
I pause at the equation as my brows fly up. “Why are you asking me that?”
“Did you just abandon him or her because Beatrice asked you to?”
“I seriously cringe when you call your mom by her name.”
“Are you going to answer the question?”
I tap my pencil against my math textbook. “Are you trying to distract me from the work? Because we’re not leaving here until we cover everything you learned today. Even if it takes us all night.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “That’s bull.”
I raise my shoulders. “I don’t lie.”
He rolls his eyes. “Sure you do. Everyone lies, even goody-two-shoes like you.”
“Don’t call me that! And I so do not.”
“Did you abandon the student you were tutoring because my mother pushed me before them?”
“Look, Damian, your mom wanted to make sure she chose the best tutor for you and—”
He scoffs. “Sure she did.”
“Do you not like her or something?”
“I’m not her greatest fan. Let me guess. You worship the ground she walks on. Typical.”
I glare at him. “I don’t worship the ground anyone walks on. And for your information, I’m not the biggest fan of Harrington either. I mean, I respect her as a principal and am grateful she lets me attend here on scholarship, but…”
He leans close. “But what?”
I want to say that she could care more about her students than her image.
Take Carly, for example. The only reason she’s here on scholarship is because there was this huge backlash after she fired her dad along with other employees from one of the businesses she owns.
To make things right, she offered everyone their job back and she offered Carly a scholarship to her academy.
Carly has never felt like Harrington likes her.
I guess she feels like a charity case. Her grades have improved in the last few weeks, which I’m super proud of, but she still feels like she doesn’t belong.
But I can’t tell this to Harrington’s son. What if it makes its way to her? I have no idea if they have a good relationship or not. I mean, it seems like they have a terrible one, but what do I know?
“Never mind,” I say. “Can we focus on the work?”
He grunts and doesn’t say anything.
The next hour is pretty brutal. Damian doesn’t make much of an effort to learn what I’m trying to teach him.
He still doesn’t say anything or wear a readable expression, so I have no idea if he gets what I’m saying or is completely lost. It’s like he doesn’t care one way or the other.
It seems like he just wants to get this over with.
I don’t want to get too annoyed with him because I don’t want to tick off his mom. I’m on my way to becoming valedictorian when I graduate in two years, and the last thing I need is to mess it all up because I can’t handle her son. He’s just a boy, right? I can handle boys.
Yeah, right. I’ve barely talked to any boys my age all my life.
I’ve always been the dorky girl who spent all her free time reading.
I didn’t have any friends in elementary school or middle school and turned to books for comfort.
But that changed in ninth grade when I met Raven and Carly.
They didn’t care how much I loved to read or that I have this tendency to look at everything as a romance trope, which I know can annoy people.
But my friends accepted me just as I am, and I’ll always be grateful to them.
We befriended Addie a few months ago, and the four of us have been inseparable ever since. I never imagined I would one day have such amazing friends. Sometimes, I feel like the happiest person in the world, despite the loss my family has experienced.
“You just stopped,” he says.
I blink and glance at him. “Hmm?”
“Why did you stop talking? Are we finally done with this crap?”
Ugh, cringe central. Why must he refer to schoolwork as “crap?” Some people like it, you know.
“Sorry,” I say. “I guess my mind wandered. We’re done with the lesson, but I’d like you to do the problems in the back of the chapter. Can you do that right now, please?”
“Can’t I do them tonight and send it to you?”
I give him a face. “Will you actually do them?”
He contemplates his answer, and then says, “Nope.”
“Well, at least you’re honest. Keep your butt planted where it is and do those problems. I’ll release you when you get them right.”
He leans over the table and moves his face closer to mine. “And if I say no?”
I freeze for a moment at his close proximity. Why is he so good-looking? It doesn’t seem fair.
I swallow and say, “I’ll sneak into your dorm room and unleash a swarm of bees on you.
” When his face jumps with shock, I chuckle.
“Kidding! I’m not going to be a police over you, Damian.
You have to be responsible and do the work.
If you want to fall behind in your classes and fail, that’s up to you.
Just don’t come whining to me when you feel like the dummy of the class. ”
His face fills with even more shock. I guess he didn’t expect me to be so blunt?
“Well, good luck finding my dorm.” He pushes his chair back and gets to his feet, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “By the way, it’s obvious my mom owns you. You would do yourself a favor if you quit listening to her.”
He keeps his eyes on me for a moment before marching toward the exit of the library.
“Wait!” I call after him.
When he doesn’t stop moving, I grab my backpack and chase after him. “You don’t have my number.”
“And why would I need your number?”
I grab his arm, forcing him to stop walking. “So you can text me the work.”
He scoffs. “Did you not just see me literally walk away from our session?”
“I’ve been doing this longer than you can imagine, Damian Harrington. I know you’ll send me the work. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow night. But you will.”
He watches me for a moment before closing his hand over mine and prying it off his arm.
“The name is Damian Lawrence. You should take care to remember that.” He walks a few steps before spinning around to face me.
“And don’t think you know me, Miss Goody-Goody.
” He turns around sharply and marches out the door.
“My gosh,” I mutter as I rub my forehead. How on earth am I going to deal with this guy every day? I’ve tried to be positive, but sometimes, having positivity is completely futile.
I’ll do my best to be available to him, but it’s really all up to him. I can’t force someone to let me help them make their life better. If he wants to flunk out of school, that’s his problem. I’m not going to shed any tears over it.