14. Jason
14
JASON
A nother week passed.
Two more tutoring sessions with Laura came and went.
And I was still no closer to any success.
My grades remained the same, hovering near failing. But that wasn’t the success I wanted. Of course, I wasn’t successful academically. I wasn’t trying at all, just showing up to make sure I wouldn’t lose more points for being absent. I didn’t expect my grades to change until I actually put any effort into it and did any work.
I continued to blow off Laura’s help. I spent all my time in class obsessing about the anger I couldn’t stop feeling toward Dean Chen.
Going back to my usual routine of being a loud, rude asshole who interrupted her and challenged Laura to no end, just to antagonize her, I realized I had to double down to bully her.
It didn’t seem like she would ever crack, never reacting to me when I did my worst.
She still wouldn’t give me the satisfaction of knowing I’d hurt her.
Come Tuesday, I wondered if she’d be any different.
She was almost numb now, not even acknowledging my insults at all, just pausing like she counted on my interruptions.
Unfazed.
It pushed me to become more obsessed with hurting her. To make her pay for what her father did to my family.
I had to know that she couldn’t be this impervious to pain.
This dismissive of me.
If I shared that video, I bet that would do the trick. Something kept me back from blasting that online, though. It was as though I knew that would break her, not merely hurt her.
“Sorry I’m late, icy brat,” I greeted as I joined her.
She nodded, not making eye contact. “Yep. Icy as ever.”
I narrowed my eyes, taking a seat at her dull tone.
“I’m not sorry,” I added, just to be an ass.
“I know.”
“I bet you’re sorry you ever agreed to tutor me, huh?” I laughed as I pushed her neatly lined up row of pencils apart, scattering her tidiness.
She didn’t bat an eyelid, shrugging. “Too late to think about that now. You’re here. I’m here. May as well carry on.”
Fuck that. I didn’t want to just carry on.
I tried another angle. Leaning closer, I noisily scooted my chair closer to hers until I could whisper in her ear. “Are you really that frigid?” I taunted.
“Guess so,” she replied flippantly.
“You’ve never had a big, thick cock deep inside your pussy to thaw you out?” I grinned, waiting for her blush.
It didn’t come.
“Nope.”
“Never.” I raised my brows. “You and lover boy never fucked?”
“We did.” Still nothing. The same dull, monotone, whatever voice.
I furrowed my brow, realizing what she’d let slip there. “Wait. Are you admitting he had a tiny dick?” I couldn’t help a laugh.
“Sounds like it.” She didn’t flinch or turn to face me, not even seeming bothered that I could run with what she said and torment her, and Ethan, even more.
But what was the point if she wouldn’t react at all?
What was I accomplishing when it didn’t seem like she was telling Dean Chen what a bully I was?
“So, this paper?—”
I gripped her chin and turned her to face me.
“You’re fine with that?” I taunted. “You’re fine with admitting all you’ve ever had in your pathetic life is some tiny dick that couldn’t even get you off.”
She drew in a deep breath through her nose, and I waited, excited for her to lash out.
She didn’t. “As I was saying.” She dodged my grip and faced forward again, leaving me to stare at her profile. “Your instructor emailed me your draft of your term paper for medical philosophy and?—”
I grabbed hold of her chair and twisted her to face me fully.
“Fuck that paper.”
“It seems that is your intention,” she deadpanned.
I was getting warmer, but not there yet. “How pathetic can you be?” I taunted, getting in her face. “You’re admitting?—”
She shoved me back and slid the paper back toward us. “I’m admitting that this is pathetic.”
Now, she snapped. Not like a bitch or a brat. She took out a red pen with an intention to slay me. But she didn’t face me, just the paper.
“It’s pathetic that you can forget the point you made in the introduction to be able to paraphrase it here. And this?” She shook her head as she scribbled on the paper she’d printed out. “You know what this theorem is. You’re not a freshman and your grades show that you aced the course that introduced this. You contradict yourself here and here. Then this, where you lose the whole punch of the point you’re trying to make, which is hinted here, you turn this draft from an attempt at completing an assignment to a mockery of words thrown together by a student who damn well knows better.”
Finished with marking up the paper with so much red it seemed to bleed, she capped the pen with angry precision and smacked it on top of the paper.
“ That’s pathetic,” she repeated, pivoting to face me with a flinty glare. “Making juvenile grammar errors and misspelling things just for the sake of hitting the word count. That’s pathetic, Jason. If you want my opinion, that’s it. You’re boring me with how pathetic this is when it’s obvious you are actually a lot smarter and more capable than you want anyone to believe.” She arched one brow at me, as if daring me to reply and argue.
“What…” I furrowed my brow again, honestly taken aback and stunned stupid. I hadn’t thought she’d ever eviscerate me like this. I was starting to doubt that she had it in her.
Every time I had to face her and notice more and more details that could make her alluring and tempting, I figured this was it. That she really was this much of a quiet-mannered pushover who had no clue how hot she was, how timidly gorgeous she could be.
“What the hell?” I whispered as I lowered my gaze to the paper.
After that outburst, I couldn’t tell if I wanted to argue and fight or shove her onto the table and fuck her until she screamed.
Or both.
She was goddamn radiant, on fire and spunky and so full of energy and life—even mean to give it to me like that.
How long had she been holding all of that in?
I narrowed my eyes at her, trying to reconcile this feisty, tell-it-like-it-is, critical version of her with the complacent and scared prey she usually was.
I had no clue how to even look at her now.
“What’s pathetic is that you try to goad me about my life. What’s pathetic is your trying to subject me to some sadistic, fucked-up mind game of wanting to make me cry. It’s pathetic of you to waste my time. And yours. Just think, Jason, you could’ve quit this weeks ago to spare us both the time we’ve been wasting. Because it’s more pathetic of you to come here and do absolutely nothing.”
I rubbed my chin, trying to keep up with all she spewed.
So hot and fed up.
Just like I wanted. I had been impatient for a reaction from her, and I finally got one.
But I hadn’t hurt her. It almost seemed like she felt triumphant, breathing hard after lashing out hotly like that.
She hadn’t even raised her voice, really, just upped the bite in her words.
“And what am I keeping you back from, huh?” I asked.
She licked her lower lip before clamping both shut tight.
“What big, exciting things am I holding you back from two nights a week?”
She glanced aside but bravely made eye contact again. I was getting to her now.
“You’ve got no fucking life, Second-Best.”
She didn’t react to the nickname that suddenly seemed dumb.
“No one is missing you at parties. No dates are waiting for you to be available.”
Nothing. I had to give her a little credit. She could be tough when she wanted.
“Not even your boring-as-fuck boyfriend with his little dick. He’s not waiting for you to rock his world. Because you are second-best, Laura, never good enough for anything more than being a quiet nerd.” I leaned in to snarl at her, waiting and wishing that she’d cave and give me what I wanted.
I had to hurt her. It wasn’t only about getting an eye for an eye, hurting Dean Chen’s daughter because he’d hurt my brother. This was about control. About her obeying the expectation I put on her to break and cry and show me that I couldn’t be dismissed and cast aside like this.
For fuck’s sake.
I wanted to see her squirm and cry and beg for mercy.
“Do you realize how worthless you are?” I taunted.
She huffed. “It seems I’m worthy of your pathetic attention.”
“You’re worthy of my anger and nothing more.”
She narrowed her eyes, sharpening her gaze to something a lot more like curiosity than I wanted to see. “Why?”
“Why do I make your life hell?”
Slowly shaking her head, she scowled at me like she was trying to figure me out. “Why me?”
“You make it so easy, Second-Best.”
“Second. First. Fiftieth.” She shrugged. “Pick a number. It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Bullshit.” I slid closer quickly, hoping to startle her. Nose to nose, I was disappointed that she didn’t even flinch. “Don’t tell me that you save your tears for after you leave.”
She tipped closer, fiery irritation sparkling in her emerald eyes. “It’s pathetic that you think you matter enough to earn my tears.”
I gritted my teeth, breathing hard and damning the inch that remained between my lips and hers.
“Pathetic,” she repeated, seething as she stood without backing up.
I fisted my hands, gripping my chair with a white-knuckled hold.
Laura didn’t stand in front of me like a terrified target. She wasn’t giving me an innocent, wide-eyed look of alarm and nervousness.
Like this, fed up and unafraid to express it, she didn’t look like my target at all.
I had no clue how to follow up with her complete dressing down about wasting my time or that I could be pathetic in her eyes.
“You know what?” She grabbed her things, leaving my paper on the table. “Forget I asked. I don’t want to know why you want to bully me. I don’t care. Just like I don’t give a damn if you finally quit so you can go back to pretending you’re stupid and incapable and fucking your way through college when you’re sober enough to get it up at your parties.”
Backing up, she tipped her chin up and gave me a cool look of indifference that pissed me off.
“What you see is what you get,” she retorted, gesturing at herself. “So look good and hard, Jason. Because that’s the first and last time I’ll waste my evening to point out how pathetic you are to show up here without any intention to give a damn about your future.”
With that, she turned and walked off.
She left me dumbfounded.
Mad.
Livid.
And surprisingly clueless over how to go back to what we had before. Where I held the power over her, secure in my role of tormenting her.
Right now, I felt powerless to do anything but regret that I had wasted my time with her.
Not by showing up to do nothing at these sessions.
I regretted wasting every second of that lost time when she could have been showing me how full of fight and passion she was all along.
Even if she wanted to funnel it into general loathing, all directed at me.