Chapter 27 Jade #4
After a moment, I relax and decide this isn’t so bad, and after about twenty minutes, I feel like I really have the phone thing down. The guys have been helping me talk to Zander, and I can easily navigate through a few of the more basic apps.
Trent hands me my phone back, and I smile at him. “Thanks,” I tell them both before tucking it back in my pocket.
“Anytime,” Trent tells me as Leo nods his agreement.
Feeling accomplished, I turn back to my book only to remember I know nothing about math.
All around the room, people are working, and some even appear to be finished already.
My triumph with the phone suddenly doesn't feel as satisfying, and I slump back in my seat. Maybe college isn’t something I should be pursuing.
I could be achieving so much more if I weren’t here most of each day all week long.
Damn, I should be using this time to work on shutting that last ring down.
“What’s wrong, Jade?” Leo asks, pulling my thoughts back to the here and now.
“Oh, um.” I look up to find both of them looking at me as I fiddle with the book's pages, looking down at my blank notebook that should have at least some work in it by now.
I can’t tell them about the rings, so I default to an issue I can talk about.
“Do you guys think maybe you could help me in this class?” I ask, my voice coming out quiet and unsure, and I can’t help but cringe.
I hate asking for help, and I hate feeling weak.
Math is stupid.
The guys exchange a look before they both nod, and I sigh in relief.
“I don’t mind helping you, but why wouldn’t you ask your boyfriend? Everyone knows he’s great at math,” Leo says, as Trent flips through his book back to the beginning of the assigned work, his posture stiff.
Leo’s words register, and I whip my head up to look at him. “What!?” I ask, my voice a few octaves too high. I take a breath and try again. “I’m sorry, but what? Who do you think my boyfriend is exactly?”
“Um, Zander?” he says, not sounding as sure as he had a moment ago.
I laugh.
What the fuck is happening today? First Hazel and now Leo. Who the hell else in this school thinks I’m with these guys as more than just baggage they got stuck with?
I laugh so hard that I have to wipe tears from my eyes.
When I finally stop, Leo looks at me like I’ve grown another head, and Trent has a strange look on his face. If I didn’t know better, I would say it looked a lot like relief, but that doesn’t make sense.
“Why in the world would you think that?” I ask him.
“Um, I don’t know, maybe because we just spent the last half hour helping you learn how to flirt with him via text?” Leo says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, before turning to Trent.
“I mean, he’s not wrong, Jade. I can see why he would think that,” he says with a shrug.
“You thought that, too?” I ask Trent, and he’s quick to shake his head.
“No, no. I mean, the texts are flirty, but I also know the guys, so I know they don’t date,” he explains without meeting my eyes, and I think he might be lying about thinking Zander and I were a couple.
Wait, what?
“They don’t date anyone?” I don’t even try to keep the shock out of my voice.
“No, they don’t, and they definitely don’t bring girls back to their house or let them do business with them.” There's an edge to Trent's tone that wasn't there a moment ago. I hadn't even realized I'd asked the question out loud, but I’m kind of glad I did.
“That’s why Mai looked at me like she wanted to scoop my eyes out earlier.” That makes more sense, at least. I mean, I’m still not going to take shit from her, and I still want to know why Hazel’s so afraid, but now at least, I can see why she thinks I’m competition.
“What? When?” Trent asks, but I wave him off. Mai is nothing he needs to worry about.
“Jade.” Trent presses, unwilling to let it go. I often forget nobody knows what I’m capable of; the guys do, for the most part, now, but I can see why Trent might be concerned.
“It's fine. We can deal with all that shit later. How about we focus on this math first so I don’t fail my first class? Nobody will be an issue if I can’t keep my ass on campus.” I’m joking, mostly, but it seems to do the trick as they both smile and nod, assuring me they won't let that happen.
My math knowledge is lacking harder than I thought possible.
At the end of class, I still have none of my work completed, and I might be more confused than before they started helping me.
Trent said I’ll still need more help with the basics before I can hope to understand what is being taught in class, which doesn't sound promising if you ask me.
He messaged Hazel and set up a group study session in the library for all of us this weekend. Apparently, Trent, Hazel, Leo, and Hazel’s friend Kai will all be there. It feels like overkill for a little bit of math, but it also feels nice to have people willing to help, if not a little strange.
Trent put their numbers in my phone when he had it earlier without me even noticing. So, I now have what he called a group chat where all of us can talk together and figure out when we can meet. He also told me I could message them for any other help I should need as I go through my classes.
I tried to tell him not to worry about it, but he insisted, saying it was no big deal.
As much as I disliked asking for help, I couldn’t stop smiling at the idea of studying with possible friends and maybe even doing okay with this whole college experience.
Leo has a lot of the same classes that I do.
According to Trent, we're both taking core classes with no idea what we want to major in.
If you had told me at the beginning of the day I would have him in so many classes, I might've just had Roderick take me back to the house, but after our math class, I feel a little less on edge with him.
Hazel's first class is what they called a double block, meaning she's in there for twice the time we were in math.
Since she can't show me around, they offer to walk me to the gym where my kickboxing class will be and point out the library where we will meet as we go.
I guess they both take this class on Wednesday with me, but they have weight training today, having split their physical classes between two instead of doubling up like I did.
Maybe I should look into adding weight training, too? I’ll have to ask the guys about that later.
The gym is huge, and it takes me a second to find the locker room Trent told me about.
I almost walked into the men's locker room by mistake; thank god the doors are labeled.
The locker room is empty, and I quickly change into my gym shorts and sports bra before throwing on a loose tank top over it.
I don't have a lock for the locker, so I pick one in the far back corner and just hope nobody decides to take my stuff. Worst-case scenario, I need new school books, but I’d rather not have another reason to fall farther behind.
Before leaving, I check my phone since I won't have it for the next hour.
Have fun in kickboxing. ??
The little devil face is adorable, but I have no idea what it means.
The guys might have explained emojis to me, but I don’t get how that one fits the message. Tossing my phone in my bag without responding, I stash my bag in the locker and head out.
The gym is crazy big. The whole campus is, but this one room is easily the biggest. There’s seating along most of the walls and lines drawn on the wooden floor that's so polished it actually shines.
On the far side, about ten standing punching bags are set up on mats.
I assume that's where the class will take place, and I make my way over to them.
I'm still the only one here, so I take the time to warm up and stretch out.
Trent said our math class let out a little early, so I assume others will be here soon.
Halfway through my floor stretches, I hear a door on the other side of the gym swing closed, the sound echoing around the room. I glance over my shoulder as someone heads this way out of the men's changing room, and I have to do a double take.
No fucking way.
Roderick is walking toward me, which is shocking enough by itself because I didn’t know we shared this class.
I think I would remember if Zander mentioned that.
But that’s not even the most shocking part.
He stalks toward me in nothing but gym shorts and a men's tank top. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in jeans before, let alone something this relaxed.
He’s more the type to look ready for a business meeting at any given time.
Even at the party, he wore black dress pants and a button-up—the only relaxed part of his look was his rolled-up sleeves.
As if he can feel my eyes on him, he looks my way, catching me shamelessly ogling him, yet I still can’t pull my eyes away.
Every inch of his visible skin is covered in tattoos.
I knew he had some; it’s impossible not to.
You can see them on his hands and neck; they peek out no matter what he wears, not to mention the ones on his head that peek through his shaved sides.
I would have never guessed he had so many, though.
My eyes trace over his legs and up his body.
His shorts are tighter on his legs, looking like they were molded around the very distinct muscles.
His tank top is loose, but the arm holes hang low, giving a clear view of his sides and chest as he moves.
This man isn’t just fit; he's chiseled. His tattoos only add to his appeal, making him look more like a walking piece of art than a man.