Chapter 3: Tutoring

"Take your time; only twenty people are waiting," someone snaps from behind me.

 

I immediately pull away from Hannah’s arms. Even she seems surprised by the interruption from Mr. Adkins. But then I notice we are standing against the door, and everybody is actually waiting for us.

 

"Sorry, sir," I mumble, avoiding his gaze.

 

Trying to be nice to him is going to be harder than I thought.

 

I quickly move to the back of the class and sit down, pulling out my phone before Mr. Adkins calls for silence.

 

-Nora: Hey, Con. Can you help me with math? Exams are coming up, and I'm failing.

 

My phone buzzes almost instantly.

 

-Connor: I'm failing math too. I can help you though.

-Connor: This weekend?

 

Fuck sake. Of course.

 

With a sigh, I open my textbook and actually attempt to pay attention. The first thirty minutes go okay, but soon enough, the numbers on the board start blending together. I peek at Hannah’s notes, noticing numbers that aren't even on the board. I frown, completely lost. It's like Mr. Adkins is speaking in another language, and I’m stuck with a broken wand in a math class that might as well be magic. All I do is just blow myself up.

 

During the second hour, he shifts topics, mostly talking about our upcoming trip to his other job on Friday. We’re visiting the company where he works, supposedly to give us a taste of what the “real world” looks like outside the classroom.

 

I keep my head down and avoid all communication thrown at me. Even Mr. Adkins seems to leave me alone, and every time our eyes meet, I look away instead of holding his gaze. He ends his lesson without ordering me to stay behind. For the first time EVER.

 

But, this time, I decide to stay.

 

"What are you doing? You don’t need to stay. Let’s go to the mall!" Hannah chirps, already packing her bag with excitement.

 

I sigh deeply. "I need to ask him about tutoring. You go on ahead."

 

The last thing I want is to be alone with him when I don't have to, but I need to. Math will not be the downfall of my study.

 

Hannah gives me a sympathetic look before leaving. The class follows her out and I stay at my desk, biting my lip in anticipation. The door clicks shut, and suddenly, the classroom feels much emptier. Mr. Adkins, seated at his desk, is already typing away, either completely unaware of me or pretending I’m not here, hoping I’ll leave.

 

Great tactic, but it won't work this time.

 

I grab my bag and slowly walk over to his desk.

 

 

"Mr. Adkins," I say firmly.

He glances up briefly, his gaze flicking from my outfit—a pair of soft blue jeans and a cropped sweater—to my face. The fabric of my sweater touches my belly, and I know it shows off my midriff when I lift my arms.

 

"Yes?" His tone is indifferent, his fingers still poised over the keyboard. It's pretty clear he just wants me to fuck off.

 

"I need tutoring," I say.

 

There’s a pause.

 

"You don’t need tutoring, Norali. You need to do your homework and actually read the book," he replies, eyes dropping back to the screen.

 

Homework? Read the book? I glance at his teacher’s edition of the textbook. That book would probably explain everything in detail.

 

I hesitate before taking another step forward.

 

"But I need help," I say, almost pleading now.

 

He keeps typing, blatantly ignoring me. This is so rude.

 

I place a finger on the back of his laptop screen.

 

"I need serious help," I say, gently pushing the screen forward.

 

His fingers freeze as soon as he notices the screen move.

 

"Norali," he warns, his voice low, but I keep pushing the screen until it hits his fingers.

 

I stare at him, and he stares at me, his expression hardening. Then he looks away as if I’m not even standing there. Irritated, I reach for his book and snatch it off the desk.

 

"Hey!" he shouts, swiping at the air but missing. "Give that back, Norali."

 

"No," I say, holding the book behind my back.

 

Mr. Adkins stands abruptly, his hand extended toward me.

 

"Give. It. Back," he demands, taking a step forward.

 

I quickly take one step back, toward the door, out of fear from his voice. But still, I hold the book behind my back. As he steps closer, I take two more steps toward the door.

 

"Are you always this childish?" His tone is biting, his eyes narrowed in frustration. His judging eyes make my irritation spike.

 

"Are you always an asshole?" I shoot back.

 

"An asshole?" he repeats, tilting his head.

 

I bump into the closed door, realizing I may have pushed things too far. His eyes are locked on mine, simmering with anger. I almost cower.

 

But I do need help. Help that he's been denying me. He takes another step closer, and the book in my hands feels like it’s burning me. It touches my back and I try to ignore the overwhelming urge to just hand his book back.

 

"Norali," he warns again, his voice low and commanding.

 

Shit. That shouldn’t sound hot, but it does, which only makes me angrier.

 

"Jace," I snap, using his first name. His hands clench into fists. "Don't call me by my name," He growls. I bite my lip in order to focus. "Don't call me by mine," I retort, meeting his gaze defiantly.

 

His jaw tightens, and I can see his frustration building.

 

"Give me my book," he says through gritted teeth. His tone suggests there will be consequences if I don’t comply. As if he is going to punish me. But my grade is already consequence enough, so I hold the book tighter.

 

I shake my head a firm no and before I process what is happening, he lunges at me and grabs hold of the book behind my back.His chest presses against mine as he traps me against the door. "Let go. Last warning," he orders, his voice low in my ear. Goosebumps rise along my skin as his breath brushes my neck.

 

My heartbeat spikes. Shit. This wasn't the plan.

 

"Please, Mr. Adkins," I whisper, looking up at him. Maybe begging will work.

 

He gazes down at me, his eyes dark and intense. His arm remains around me, still gripping the edge of the book, while his thumb lightly grazes my back. He inhales deeply. He is close, way too close, to me. My fingers tighten on the book and I try to look at him as innocently as I can. I try to put my thoughts into his head.

 

Help me. Tutor me. Please.

 

With a final, scanning look at my face, I see his jaw visibly tighten.

 

"Fine," he mutters, releasing the book and stepping back. I can't help the heavy, relieved sigh that escapes me. It seems to irk him for some reason.

 

"Take the book. Read it. When you’ve finished the entire thing, come to me, and we’ll start your tutoring," he says sternly.

 

My eyes widen as I glance at the book behind me.

 

"The entire thing?" I ask, a hint of panic in my voice.

 

He smirks, lifting an eyebrow. In the corner of my eye, I see his hand lifting. "The entire thing. You can take it," His smirk is still on his face and my cheeks immediately flame with heat. It goes down my neck and I clear my throat awkwardly.

 

But then I remember what he said.