Chapter Five Damion
CHAPTER FIVE
“Beware of freckle-faced girls.”
—Remington
Damion
“Just grab them and go,” I said, in a hurry to blow out of school and get to the courts.
“Yeah, no shit,” Beckett said. “What do you think I’m going to do? Stick around for happy hour with administration?”
“I have no idea what you’re doing,” I said, glancing at my watch. “Hurry up.”
I’d been irritated ever since transition, when I had to sit and stare at Julia Lowell for the entire thirty-minute period. I mean, I didn’t have to stare at her, but I couldn’t seem to bring myself to look away from the back of her head.
Because the sight of her just pissed me off.
Even her curls pissed me off, to be honest. Too long, too curly, too… auburn-y. Shit.
Her existence just pissed me off.
And how dare she look like a lost puppy in the halls of Gardenwood, like a wounded animal?
I’d felt like a giant asshole for a half second when I saw her in the hall earlier, but then I remembered that she’d be going home to Remi’s house after school, the house I hadn’t seen the inside of in way too long, where she’d probably put her feet up on his furniture and laugh with her parents about how easy their grift had been.
Boom—any urge to help her disappeared.
I’d walked on by as if she hadn’t looked utterly helpless.
“Hey, Mr. Green, I just need to grab those council forms,” Beckett said, half yelling into the headmaster’s inner sanctum as we pushed into the office. “I forgot to grab them this morning.”
“Oh. Yes,” Headmaster Green said, getting out of his chair and crossing his office. “They’re over here.”
Mr. Green went over to one of the office cubbies, grabbed a stack of papers, and handed them to Beckett.
“Thanks,” Beckett said.
“How’s everything, Damion?” Mr. Green asked, tilting his head and looking at me like he was surprised to remember I existed.
I used to tutor for him and the office all the time my freshman year, but once my sophomore year hit, I found better things to do with my time. But I kind of missed it. There’d been something oddly satisfying about helping somebody else get better at something.
“Good,” I said, wondering what he knew.
Green was shockingly aware of every tiny thing going on with the student body, right down to who was dating who, whose parents were cheating, and which student was secretly not getting into the college they’d told everyone they’d gotten into.
No one really knew how he knew what he knew, but the man knew all.
“Listen, your timing is impeccable, because I’m in need of help and I cannot think of a better person to provide the assist. Do you have a quick second?”
I wanted to say no so badly because I was beyond ready to bail, but no one said no to Green. “Sure,” I said, shrugging at Beckett when he looked at me like what the fuck.
Green wasted no time as we sat down in the chairs on the other side of his desk.
“So I know you don’t really tutor anymore, Damion—”
“Sorry, Mr. Green,” I interrupted, cutting him off because I couldn’t. “But I’m going to have to stop you right there. My course load this year is crazy heavy, and I cannot—”
“I can,” Beckett interrupted, looking annoyed that he hadn’t been asked.
Beckett actually was an active tutor, so it made sense that he was confused by the request.
“You’re fairly booked, Mr. Schwab,” Green said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Beck’s shirt. “And I need someone brilliant who can help me out immediately. We’re on a tight deadline, you could say.”
What the hell does that mean?
“An emergency case of tutorial necessity?” I leaned back a little in the guest chair. “Someone’s going to die if they don’t get smarter in a hurry? What’s going on?”
“If you’re too busy, that’s fine,” Green said. “Sometimes there are just situations that require a little—”
“Who’s it for?” Beckett asked. “Whose grades are in this much trouble?”
“No one’s grades are in trouble,” Mr. Green said quietly, glancing toward the door. “There actually are no grades set at all yet—”
“Oh, wait, wait—is this the new kids? One of the twins?” Beckett looked at me and said, “Is it Julia Nebraska?”
Beckett found that to be a hilarious nickname for the new girl “with all the hair.”
“I really need your discretion on this, guys,” the headmaster said. “This particular student, as a new arrival, wishes to avoid any negative first impressions that could potentially accompany a need for educational assistance.”
He came around his desk, walked past us, then went so far as to close his office door.
This was serious.
“I cannot get into the details, but Miss Lowell needs a math tutor,” he said.
“So it is Julia Nebraska,” Beckett said, giving me a smirk.
“Your tie needs attention, Mr. Schwab,” Green said. “Perhaps focus on that instead of buzzing over salacious gossip.”
“Come on, Seth,” Beckett said, looking down at his tie and straightening it. “I buzz because knowing the gossip is fun, but you know I’m a vault.”
It was true. Beckett enjoyed hoarding secrets and intel, but he didn’t really run around spreading information.
No, that was what everyone else in Gardenwood did.
But as I watched Beckett retie his tie, my brain slammed the door on this Nebraska situation. Not only was I too busy to take on a student at the moment, but I was a thousand percent unwilling to help that particular girl out.
I wanted her to fail.
And my nose was still sore, for the love of God.
“Regardless of who I tap for this assignment, confidentiality is key. Our new classmate needs to focus on her studies, and she cannot do that fully if she’s anxious about appearances.
I’d like to set up a tutor who’s willing to go to her house or meet her off-site, to be honest, just to ease her mind. ”
It’s not her house, it’s Remi’s house.
“I’m telling you,” Beckett said, “I can squeeze her in.”
There must’ve been a question in my look because Beck shrugged like he was helpless and said, “You have to admit she’s interesting, Damion, come on.”
Interesting. Everyone was chirping about the new girl, but “interesting” was probably the most complimentary thing I’d heard about her.
New money (the biggest insult one could receive) and Louis Vuitton (I had no idea what that one was referring to, but it wasn’t good) were the nicknames she’d already secured, and the day was barely over.
“This is not what I’m looking for here,” Green said, rolling his eyes but looking amused because, well, who wasn’t amused by Beckett? My best friend was fucking endearing in his utter Beckettness, God help us all.
He was that guy, the guy who was honest all the time, for better or worse.
“The Lowell residence is over on Riverside, Damion,” Mr. Green said, raising his glasses to the top of his head and rubbing his eyes.
“So if you did have any availability, it’s conveniently located between the academy and your house.
You could arrange the sessions to occur on your way home, so it really wouldn’t be schedule-intensive. ”
As if I didn’t know where the “Lowell residence” was located.
God, hearing it called that really pissed me off.
“Maybe,” I finally replied to Mr. Green after I was able to unclench my fucking jaw. “If I have the time.”
Mr. Green sighed, obviously disappointed in me.
Not the answer he wanted.
Yeah, well, I didn’t want the house I love to be occupied by thieves, so call us even, Seth.
“Very good” was all I heard him say as I blew out of his office, ready to move on to the part of the day where I wasn’t pissed off about every-fucking-thing.
I closed the door as Beckett took off for the basketball courts.
“Damion!”
Jesus! I almost had a heart attack as the loud voice and assault of curls appeared out of nowhere in front of me. She was clutching her textbooks nervously to her chest, but those eyes were trained on me like she was ready to rumble.
Julia Nebraska.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
“Jumping out at people in abandoned hallways,” I said, wishing for the power to make someone disappear with a finger point. “Is that what they do for fun on the farm?”
“First of all, I have no idea because I’ve never lived on a farm,” she said, looking grossly offended. “Second of all, did you agree to do it?”
I looked down at her upturned face and damn, I liked the expression she was wearing.
It reeked of desperation.
Of panic.
For some reason, that fast-blinking anxious gaze gave me a wicked sort of satisfaction.
You should be nervous, Nebraska.
I played dumb just to make her beg for it.
“Agree to do what, exactly?” I asked, injecting obnoxious innuendo into my tone to mess with her. I leaned in a little closer and said, “Because I’m game for almost anything, Nebraska—just tell me the plan.”
She blew an unruly curl out of her face as a wrinkle formed between her brows. “Agree to be my tutor. Look, I’m not thrilled about it either. And I know we didn’t start out on the right foot.”
“Understatement from the nose crusher,” I scoffed, straightening.
“But Mr. Green said you are the best tutor there is.”
“Is that a question?” I asked, working for a look that said insulted. I narrowed my eyes and said, “Because you sound surprised.”
“No! I mean, I’m not. Surprised, that is.” She sighed, and I suspected she wanted to stamp her foot in frustration.
I, on the other hand, wanted to laugh at how hard she was trying to keep it together.
She lifted her chin and said, “I’m hoping you’ll accept my apology for the whole wallet misunderstanding and consider helping me.”
I leaned against the wall and crossed my arms over my chest.
Said nothing, just waited.
Beg, I thought. You’re gonna have to beg me, honey.
“Please,” she said, blinking fast and gnawing on the corner of her bottom lip.
So, so desperate.
I fucking loved it.
“I mean, if I were to do this,” I said slowly, drawing it out because it felt so damn good to torment her, like I was somehow doling out micro-justice for Remi, “that would mean you’d owe me a favor.”
Her eyebrows bunched together even harder. “What kind of favor?”
I could tell she was uncomfortable with my word choice.
Good.
“I’m not going to tell you now, come on,” I said, letting my eyes slowly travel over her face. “Where’s the fun in that?”
She took in a deep breath through her nose, her wide-eyed gaze locked on mine. I could see a thousand thoughts screaming through her Midwestern mind, and for a split second I thought she was going to back down.
But then she raised that stubborn chin and said, “Fine.”
“Fine, what?”
“Fine, I’ll owe you a favor for helping me,” she said, looking over her shoulder as if checking for spies before she nodded. “So you’ll do it, then? You’ll tutor me?”
“Um,” I said, straightening and looking down at my watch. “I don’t know, I’m not sure.” Honestly, I was surprised she’d agreed to it.
And part of me got a thrill from the challenge in front of me.
Still, I couldn’t help but make her sweat for it a bit. I leaned down toward her, closer than before, those curls tickling my bruised nose as I whispered, “We’ll see.”
I could hear the catch of her breath as her eyes turned so close to mine.
“We’ll see?” she repeated in disbelief, her forehead creased with confusion wrinkles.
“Yup.” I backed up, getting a clear view of the nerves lining her face.
That and the freckles on her nose.
So many freckles.
“We’ll see,” I shouted, walking away. But I could feel her eyes on my back. Feel her frustration bubbling.
And it felt oh so good as I sensed her watching my exit.
Take that, Nebraska.