Chapter 4: The Book

"Wait, you will be tutoring me?" I ask, eyes widening.

 

"Is that a problem?" he replies, walking back to his desk. I hesitate for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts.

 

It absolutely fucking is.

 

"Uhh... no, of course not. When are we starting?" I ask after a brief pause.

 

"That keen, are we?" I hear the humor in his tone, his back still turned to me as he gathers his things. "Keen as a bean," I mutter sarcastically.

 

I had hoped someone else would be tutoring me.

 

He turns around and gives me a piercing look, his eyes flicking to my stuff. "Well, bean, hurry up. You've got a book to read."

 

Right.

 

I hurry to the back of the class, gathering my things in a rush. The book is too big to fit in my bag, so I hold it against my chest and walk toward him. He's already waiting by the door. "So... when do we start, exactly?" I ask again for clarification.

 

"I told you. Once you've read the entire book," he says nonchalantly.

 

"The book is, like, 500 pages. That'll take me ages. By the time we start, I won't even remember what's on the first ten pages," I grumble.

 

"Then you'd better get started, little bean," he teases.

 

"Don't call me that," I snap, pushing against the door to open it, but he grabs the handle, holding it shut. "Don't ruin my stuff, Norali," he warns, his arm flexing as he resists my push. I press my weight harder against the door, but it doesn't budge.

 

I feel boxed in, and he's clearly waiting for a response. I roll my eyes internally. "I will try," I reply, not entirely meaning it.

 

He narrows his eyes at me, then—without warning—lets go of the door, opening it just as I push against it. I stumble to the side, unbalanced by my own force. I have put all my body weight into the door, and he knows it.

 

I suck in a breath when the door disappears and close my eyes for the fall to come.

 

Instead, a strong hand grabs my arm and catches my arm. I open my eyes in surprise, instinctively grabbing onto whatever's holding me. I drop the book in my arms to save myself.

 

It takes me a second to realize I'm clutching his arms—his very solid, muscular arms. My nails are digging into his black work shirt.

 

Focus, Nora.

 

As I hold onto his arms and he still has his hand around my arm, we both slowly look down at the book, which has fallen on the floor between us with the soft pages down. It stays up in an awkward position for one second and slowly falls over, bending the cover page that is on the bottom. We both look at the book, and silence falls.

 

Oopsie.

 

He sighs deeply, and I feel his grip tighten on my arm. Fast as lightning, I release him and bend down to pick up the book. "That was not entirely my fault," I quickly rush out. I clear my throat and feel my cheeks redden once again.

 

He just stares at me, raising an eyebrow. His hand lifts, clearly expecting me to return his book. I step back out of his reach, clutching it to my chest. "See you on Friday!" I blurt out, quickly turning and walking away before he can say anything.

 

It takes a few deep breaths for me to calm down. Only when I get into my car and start the engine do I finally relax.

 

What a prick. He's my teacher, for crying out loud. He shouldn't be using that dangerous tone. He should just teach the class—preferably without being such an ass about it.

 

I glance at the book lying on the passenger seat, trying to smooth out the crease on the cover. It’s permanent, of course. Great start to tutoring.

 

When I get home, I immediately open the book while cooking dinner. The first thing I notice is his name scrawled inside the cover... followed by his phone number. Probably just in case he loses it. I stare at his handwriting for a second longer than necessary. The girls at school would kill for this number. Maybe I could sell it.

 

Mason walks in just as I finish cooking. "Hey, Li! How was school?"

 

My thoughts flash to my last class with Mr. Adkins. Absolutely terrible.

 

"Yeah, good. How was your day?" I say instead.

 

"Tiring. Being a teacher is hard. All these kids talk about everything except what's important. It’s exhausting. I had to send Connor out of class today," he says, opening the fridge and sniffing the air appreciatively. "Smells good, sis."

 

"Why'd you send Connor out?" I ask casually as I stir the risotto.

 

"Well... Apparently, you texted him right as my class started. You have a date with him this weekend?" Mason raises an eyebrow as he leans against the counter, drinking straight from the juice bottle.

 

"A glass, Mason! Don't drink straight from the bottle!" I scold, trying to grab it from his hands.

 

Instead, he drinks the entire thing and throws the empty bottle in the bin."No, I don’t have a date with Connor. I just asked him to help me with homework, but he’s failing too. That’s the end of that," I explain.

 

Mason snorts. "I'm not surprised he's failing. He's too busy with everything that has a pair of boobs and a vag-" "Yes, okay, I get it," I quickly intercept him.

 

As I get two plates out for us, I frown again. "How did you get home?"

 

Mason pulls out two glasses, refilling with more juice. "Jace gave me a ride."

 

I drop my fork. It clatters loudly on the floor, but I don’t pick it up right away. My head whips to the window. Mr. Adkins is here?

 

"Does he know... that I'm your sister?" I ask, my eyes still on the window. "I don't think so, no. He lives just a bit deeper into the woods," Mason says, oblivious to my internal dialogue.

 

"Oh, does he?" I try to sound as uninterested as I can. "Yup. Lives on his own. He's a nice guy. Flashy car, though," my brother mentions as he scoops food onto the plates.

 

Nice? Not exactly the word I'd use, but whatever.

 

"What car does he drive?" I ask as nonchalantly as I can, walking into the living room. Our open floor plan gives a clear view of the garden, with large glass doors that make the space feel airy.