“Morning,” I say, reaching for my can.
She gives me a nod, adjusting the strap of her bag. “Early day too I see.”
“My schedule this semester is bullshit. I had to double up on electives to make up for last year.”
“What’s you major?” she asks, taking a sip from the thermal cup in her hand.
“Architecture.”
Her eyes widen like she’s impressed—or maybe she didn’t expect me to have a major that lead to an actual career. Either way, I hope this information will allow her to take me more seriously.
“Interesting,” she says after a pause. “I can see why you’re so concerned about grades.”
I nod. “Yeah, my father is an architect. It’s very important to me I don’t let him down.”
The lightness in her eyes fades a little and I worry I said something wrong. I know nothing about this girl, but I can’t help but feel like there’s something wrong. Something she’s trying to hide.
“What’s your major?” I ask.
“Art.”
I smile. “That explains it.”
Irritation spreads across her face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I shrug, draping my arm over the open door of my truck. “It explains why you seem extra moody. Art majors are kind of gloomy people. They’re always so in touch with the deeper meanings of life and all that bullshit.”
“Art is not bullshit,” she says defensively. Her face twists into a cynical smile. “And weren’t you the one who was on me about being judgmental? It seems you’re no better yourself.”
I pull my keys out of my pocket and wink at her. “Prove me wrong then.”
Her eyes flare in annoyance before she turns away from me. “I could say the same about you,” she says over her shoulder before climbing into her car.
Still smiling to myself, I do the same and slide into the driver’s seat. I pause with my hands on the steering wheel, recalling Preston’s words from last night. I can’t let this girl get to me, no matter how sexy I think her attitude is.
Chapter 4
Passing Judgments
Mackenzie
The subtle breeze blowing around campus is enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I’m on edge today. I should have just stayed in bed, but here I sit up against a tree trying to find inspiration. With the sketchpad propped up on my knees, I stare at the blank page. Empty as usual.
Letting out a lengthy sigh, I drop my pencil to my paper and reach in my bag for my phone. I curse under my breath when I see Judah’s name pop up on my screen. I shoot a text back before scrambling to pick up my stuff. I can’t believe I let myself get so lost in my thoughts I forgot about our tutoring session today.
I almost run through the quad toward the library. When I reach the stairs his unmistakable profile comes into view. He’s wearing that backwards cap again and a fitted T-shirt. It showcases his arms in a way that can’t be ignored. The muscles in his biceps flex as he bends to adjust his bag. When Judah turns to smile at me I almost blush.
Shaking out my temporary loss of sanity, I give an apologetic smile back. “I’m really sorry. I completely lost track of time.”
“It’s cool.” He leans down close to me as I step up beside him. “Nobody can be perfect all the time, Mackenzie.”
I know he meant it in a joking manner, but his words cut through me like a dull knife. There’s so much truth to his words. As casually as possible, I dismiss it with another smile.
“Did you do the assignment?” I ask, as we step through the double doors into the library.
Judah lowers his voice while we walk back to an empty table. “I did. I was hoping you could look it over and make sure I didn’t mess it up too bad.”
“Sure.” I place my bag on the floor beside my chair after pulling out my laptop.
He passes me his paper and I grab my pen. My eyes scan it over for several minutes before I look to him in confusion.
“Can I ask you a question?”
He smiles again while chewing on the tip of his pen. “You just did.”
“No, I mean, why do you need a tutor? During both of our sessions, you haven’t missed a single question.”
Judah looks down for a moment, vulnerability flashing in his eyes as they meet mine again. “Um, I need you for accountability. To keep me on track.”
“Short attention span, huh?”
He laughs. “Something like that.”
I see straight through his attempt at appearing aloof. There’s something he doesn’t want me to know and I can respect that. I wouldn’t want to release all the skeletons in my closet.
“Okay, then.” I thumb through the papers in my bag, pulling out the next assignment. “We can work on this one. We’ll get a head start since you have a game this week.”
A crooked smile appears on his face as he takes it from me. “You know I have a game?”
“Why wouldn’t I? I go to this school too.”
“It just surprised me, is all. You don’t really seem like the type of girl to have a lot of school spirit.”
My eyes narrow. “There you are making judgments again.”
“I’m sorry.” He reaches over and places his hand on mine. “Honestly, I am.” He gives my fingers a squeeze and pulls it back. “I shouldn’t do that. It didn’t make me feel that great when you did it to me.”
“It’s fine.” My voice is curt and I pretend to be engrossed in what’s on my computer. It goes quiet for a moment until he speaks again.
“Um, are you coming?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Coming where?”
“To the game,” he says, smiling again like I’m an idiot.
“No.” I answer him like it’s the most repulsive idea I’ve ever heard. The look on his face tells me I should have had a less hostile reaction.
“So, you don’t like football?”
“It’s not that,” I say, a slight edge still lacing my voice. “I already have plans.”
That’s a total lie, but it’s all I’m willing to give.
He nods. “Cool.”
The simplicity of his words almost makes me laugh. He always comes off being really inattentive and kind of dumb. I’m getting the impression that isn’t true at all. I focus my attention back to my computer screen for a moment until Judah’s phone buzzes on the table. He glances at the display and silences it with a grunt. It doesn’t go another minute until it starts again.
“You can get that,” I say with a nod.
He clenches his teeth, but forces a smile through it. “No, it’s nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing.” At this point I’m prying a little, but he looks distressed now.
He shakes his head and holds the button down to shut his phone off. When he looks up at me again, his expression is unreadable. “Like I said—distractions.” He shoves it in his bag with a terse smile before redirecting his attention back to his notebook.
This time I keep my thoughts to myself. I watch him tap his pen on his paper while he pretends to finish the problem set. We hardly know each other so it’s not my place to invade his privacy if he doesn’t want to talk about it, but there’s something about the way his mood shifted so fast that makes me feel for him.