Shaking my head, I step forward, catching her off guard. She stumbles backward as I squeeze myself inside her room, closing the door behind us.
“What the hell?” she shrieks. “I said no. I know you’re not used to hearing the word, but you must know the meaning.”
I roll my eyes.
Of course, I’ve heard the word no, just not very often. Usually, it’s… Yes, Cage. Harder. Faster. Don’t stop.
“I just came here to apologize. Why do you have to make everything so hard? I’m just trying to be nice to you.”
“Nice,” she scoffs and moves to sit down on her bed. Taking her comforter, she wraps it around herself, probably realizing how exposed she is.
Sighing, I run a hand through my hair. I have to make her forgive me. I told Coach I would fix this, and I’m going to. No matter how hard Blair is to deal with, she has to have something she wants, something she needs.
“Listen. I’m sorry, okay? I was a jerk at the party, and it was rude for me to be late, but I really didn’t mean to be. Can we please start over? I really need your help with my grades.”
She glares at a spot on the wall beside my head.
“There are other tutors that can help you. I’m not the right fit.”
“I think you’re perfect, and my coach agrees. His exact words were, ‘She is the only one who is not going to take any of your shit.’ And you know that’s the truth. You poured a fucking beer on my head for joking with you.”
“I just don’t want to do it–”
“I’ll pay you $100 an hour.”
“No.” She shakes her head, strands of long brown hair fly through the air. Her scent swirls around me, fruity, rich like cherries or raspberries. It makes saliva pool in my mouth. I’ve never wanted to smell a chick’s hair or skin like I want to smell Blair.
“No? Seriously?” I’m kind of shocked.
“You can’t buy me.”
“I’m not buying you. I’m paying you for tutoring. $200.”
She stares at me as if she’s trying to figure out if I’m serious or not.
Yes, beautiful, I’m serious, serious as hell.
“Let me get this straight because it seems insane. You’re going to pay $200 for an hour-long tutoring session, twice a week? That’s $1600 a month, you realize that, right?”
Money doesn’t mean shit to me. It’s my father’s anyway, and if I can spend it, I’m going to, I shrug. “See I didn’t even know that. My math is that bad.”
The faintest smile tugs on the corner of her mouth before she sinks her teeth into her plump bottom lip. I can see she is thinking about it, weighing her options, so I push her over the edge with my next set of words.
“On top of that, I promise if I ever miss a session or get there late, I will never ask you to help me again. I won’t bother you about anything. You’ll be rid of me completely.”
Another second ticks by, then another. I’m almost certain she is going to say no, even as tantalizing as the offer is, but like everything with Blair, she shocks the hell out of me.
“Fine. I’ll tutor you. I still think it’s a bad idea, but you’ll be the one wasting your money, so whatever.”
I grin, unable to stop the smile from appearing on my lips.
“Great, how about we start now? I really need help with math.”
Blair brows pull together. “Now? It’s nine-thirty.”
“That’s not late,” I point out. “You know most people don’t go to bed until midnight. Plus, this is college, not a nursing home.”
“It will be double for a tutoring session after nine,” she tells me with her head held high. She probably thinks I won’t pay that much and that I’ll turn around and leave, that she’ll be rid of me, but she has no idea how wrong she is.
I’m one determined fucker when I want to be.
Taking my wallet out of my pocket, I fish four one-hundred-dollar bills out and hand them to her. That sweet mouth of hers pops open, and she looks at them like they’re not real.
“Take it,” I press, holding the money closer to her face.
She closes her mouth and snatches the bills from my hand. “You’re crazy.”
“I know. So, tell me about math.”
“Tell you about it? What are you working on right now? You didn’t happen to bring a book, did you?”
“I’m not sure,” I shrug, “and does it look like I brought a book?”
She rolls her pretty blue eyes. “Ugh. What classes are you taking?”
“Math.”
“What kind of math?”
“The one with numbers.” I smirk.
I’m taking first year calculus. I’m not that dumb, but I like playing with her. Plus, I don’t really want to do math right now. I just want to stay here a little longer, figure her out, and get to know her.
“How am I supposed to tutor you if I don’t know what you need help with?”
“Well, since I already paid for your time, why don’t we just get to know each other tonight. That way, when we have our first actual tutoring session, it will be less awkward.”
I sit down next to her, and she scoots her butt all the way back until she hits the wall. I do the same and scoot back until I’m next to her. Our backs pressed up against the wall, an open space between us.
“Tell me about you. Where are you from?”
She wraps the blanket around her body a little tighter, not answering right away. After a while, I think she isn’t going to answer, but then she does. “Small town, about an hour south of here.”
“Why did you come to North Woods? With your grades, you probably could have gotten in anywhere.”
“It’s the only school that was within driving distance, and that I got a scholarship from.”
“Why does that matter? Are you scared of flying?”
“I don’t have money for airfare, and if I would have moved across the country, I’d never be able to visit my family.”
“Oh,” I probably should have guessed that. “I’m kind of the opposite of you.”
“You mean you have money for a plane ticket?” she says sarcastically.
“Well, that… but I mean that I wanted to go somewhere far away, so I didn’t have to visit with my family, but I didn’t get that lucky. I’m from here, my father wanted me to go to school in our hometown. I didn’t really have a choice.” That’s the honest truth.
I could’ve gone anywhere I wanted, but if I wanted my father’s support, money, and help, I had to go to North Woods. Those were his words, not mine. Still, I don’t want to waste what little time I have with Blair talking about my shitty childhood with a drunk father.
“What do you do for fun?”
Blair shrugs. “Read, do homework.”
She can’t be serious. I almost laugh, then I remember who I’m talking to. What am I thinking? This is the same chick who claims that nine-thirty is late.
“Okay, so you don’t watch any TV?” Maybe there is a show we both like to watch.
“Do you see a TV in here?” Sarcasm coats her words.
I look around the room. One half is completely empty while the other–her half– is almost as bare. There are no pictures or posters on the wall, no decorations or anything that says this is her room. The simple wooden desk in the corner of the room grabs my attention. There are a lot of books stacked on top of it. And I do mean a lot, to the point I’d be worried that the piles might tip over at any moment.