Chapter Fourteen
Sophie
Let me just say that currently, I want to jump on top of a table and dance.
Dying to Kiss You did not disappoint even for one second. The characters were real and relatable, the plot kept growing more intense and intriguing with every page that I turned, and the romance? Mwa! Chef’s kiss.
No, it was more than a chef’s kiss. It was more than the most epic romance in the history of romances. It was perfect. Legendary. The kind of romance that people write songs about. The kind of romance that can never be replicated. And because of all that, this book is now my number one favorite.
I’m sitting in an empty classroom after school and am rereading my favorite scenes from the book.
I know I need to meet with Damian soon for our lesson, but I want to squeeze in as much reading as possible.
I’ve been addicted and obsessed with books before, but never like this.
There’s nothing I hate about the book (well, other than the fact that it’s over), and if people would let me, I would spend every second of every day gushing about it and telling them exactly why they need to pick up their butts this second and read it.
I wish my friends loved to read as much as I do.
It kind of sucks not to have a person in my life I could squeal and swoon with.
Gina could have been that person. I imagine us recommending books to each other and gushing about them and waking each other up at odd hours of the night to discuss a scene or dissect the perfect kisses.
I bet she would have put up with me even if she had a busy life of her own.
I know that she would always make time for me.
Taking a break from reading to check the time, I almost drop the book. Holy heck, is that really the time? I’m twenty minutes late to the lesson!
I carefully stash my book into my backpack and zip it shut, throwing it over my shoulder and racing out of the classroom.
There are some students still in the hallway and I weave my way through them as quickly as possible without running anyone over.
I can feel some giving me strange looks—like where the heck am I running to like a madwoman?
—but I pay no attention to them. As a tutor, I’m never late to a session. This would be the first time.
I burst through the library door with such a force that the librarian and the people inside stop what they’re doing and gawk at me.
Not having time to apologize, I scan the inhabitants inside, praying that Damian didn’t get bored or fed up and leave.
I would kick myself if he lost patience and left.
But nope, he didn’t leave. He sits at our usual table with his textbook and notebook laid out before him, a relieved expression on his face when he takes notice of me. I halt for a second as my eyes focus on the textbook and notebook. Was he doing homework as he waited for me?
Why does that cause this weird feeling to pass through me?
Ignoring it, I march over to our table and say with a huff, “Sorry I’m late! It was so irresponsible of me. It won’t happen again.” I dump my backpack on the chair next to mine and drop down in my seat. “I’m really sorry, Damian.”
He holds out his hands. “It’s okay. No one died. I’m sure you had a good reason for being late.”
“Totally.” I pull out my textbooks and notebooks and place them on the table.
“I finished the mystery book during lunch and missed it so much that I found an empty classroom after school to reread my favorite parts. But I was only supposed to squeeze in enough reading until our session. I didn’t mean to go overtime. ”
His brows crease. “You missed the book?”
“Sure. Haven’t you ever missed something as soon as you finished it?”
He thinks and then gives me a “not really” face.
“Like, let’s say you’re watching a really good movie and you’re loving it so much that you don’t want it to end, right? Then it does end and you’re left empty. You miss the movie and want to experience it all over again. So you watch it again.”
He makes a face like he has never experienced that.
I tuck some hair behind my ear. “Fine, maybe I’m the odd girl out here.”
He shakes his head. “You’re good.”
My gaze drops to his textbook and notebook. “I don’t want to embarrass you or anything, but I’m so proud that you’re doing your homework, Damian. See, I told you that you’re smart.”
He shifts in his seat. “I’m just getting a head start so I can have free time later.”
“Yeah, right. You want to do well in school. Admit it.”
He purses his lips for a second, and it looks like he wants to say something, but he keeps quiet.
Not wanting to discourage him or chase him away, I say, “So how about you do the math problems so I can assess how well you understood what we learned today? There’s a lot we need to cover in chem, so we might have to dedicate most of our time to that, especially because we’re a little behind schedule. Sorry again about that.”
“You don’t have to keep apologizing, Sophie. You’re only a human. You can come late once in a while.”
I shake my head. “I’m never late to anywhere school-related.”
He smiles wryly. “Maybe that’s next on the agenda—how to get our goody-goody to come late to things that actually don’t really matter.”
I lift a brow. “First of all, no thank you. And second of all, are you saying school doesn’t matter?”
“Not in the long run. It’s pointless to drive yourself crazy trying to be the perfect student when it won’t matter in twenty years.”
I rub my pencil across my lips. “You might be right that we won’t care about these years when we’re older and are living our own lives. But it matters to me right now, and that’s all I care about.”
He’s quiet for a moment or two before saying, “Fair enough. But I’ll get you to rebel against that, too.”
“I’d sooner kiss your pet turtle.”
“I don’t have a pet turtle.”
“Well, if you had one, I’d kiss it.”
“I’m sure it would appreciate it.”
I can’t help but laugh. Then I shake my head and say, “Please do the problems.”
As he does that, I go over my chem notes and look in the textbook to figure out exactly what I need to review with Damian. Chem tends to kick my butt sometimes, too, so I want to make sure I understand it perfectly before I teach it to him.
As we work in silence, I’m reminded of Friday afternoon, when he sat in silence next to me after I was on video call with my parents as they visited the cemetery.
I thought he might try to ask me about it, but it seems he has no intention of doing so.
I’m really grateful for that because I really don’t want to talk about it.
Damian finishes the problems and slides his paper across the table. I quickly look them over and learn that he got most of them right. After I tell him what to correct, we put our math work aside and focus on chemistry.
Damian doesn’t say much, but I can tell from his eyes that he’s frustrated with what I’m trying to teach him. I don’t blame him because it’s pretty difficult. I’m grateful he’s not storming away but is trying to actually understand the material.
“You got most of it,” I say in an encouraging tone. “We might have to go over this again later. For now, let’s take a break from chem and move on to something else.”
It takes an hour until we finish going over everything. I normally would dismiss him, but I’m worried he’ll fall behind in chem if he doesn’t understand it crystal clear right now. So we spend another half an hour revisiting it. Damian understands it much better, but he still struggles.
“I’ll send you some notes tonight to help you understand it better,” I tell him. “Don’t worry, you’ll be a chem expert soon.”
He’s quiet for a moment as his forehead creases. “Do you already have the notes or do you have to type them up?”
I shake my head. “I have to type them up. I’ve never had to go over this material before because I usually tutor students from lower grades. But it’s no big.” I take out my notebook and write myself a reminder to do that tonight.
“Don’t bother,” he says. “I wouldn’t want you to put in all that work. I’m good.”
My eyes lift to his. “What? No, it’s totally okay. I’m your tutor and it’s my job to make sure you understand the material. Mrs. Sullivan is pretty tough. I really don’t want you to fall behind.”
“Sophie, I don’t want you to do this. I don’t care that much about school. All I need is to pass.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I don’t care what you want, Damian. I’m your tutor and I want to do this because I know this will be beneficial to you, and it’ll make my life easier, too. So I’m doing it. End of story.”
He watches me for a moment before shaking his head with a small smile. “You’ve got fire, Reed.”
“I have to in order to deal with people like you,” I mutter.
His eyes widen in shock and then he laughs.
My eyes widen, too. I so did not mean for that to come out. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head. “No, that was good. I told you that you’re tough and can stick up for yourself. You’re much different from what I thought.”
“So you said.” I start packing up my things. “You did good today. Try to review as much of what we learned when you get back to your apartment. And don’t forget to do the homework.”
“Okay.” He stands and slings his backpack over his shoulder. “Thanks for the lesson.”
My brows rise in surprise. Is this the first time he thanked me for a lesson?
“No problem.” I smile.
He turns to leave and I grab Dying to Kiss You. Time to reread my favorite parts and swoon, squeal, laugh, cry, and yell.
Damian lingers at the table before lowering his backpack to the floor. “You’re really that hooked on the book?”
I slowly lift my eyes. “Yeah. Is something wrong with that?”
“No. It’s just that I’ve never seen anyone so obsessed with a book before.” He pulls out the chair he vacated a few seconds ago and sits back down. “Not to offend you or anything, but it’s almost like you prefer to live in those fictional worlds instead of the real world.”