Page 78 of Divine Obsession

He sighed. “Fine. Allafternoonworking on them. They’re good enough.”

“No, they’re not. I want the distinction, not just the A.”

“Right.” His tone was mocking. “I forgot I was with Little Miss Perfect.” When I didn’t give him any attention, he leaned closer, and I felt the heat of his stare burning into my cheek. But then he shrugged. “You’re just one of those.”

My hands paused from typing as I turned to him. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“All you care about is your grades and what other people think.”

I fake laughed again after picking up on his tone – realizing he was pulling my leg. “Funny, because I don’t care what you think.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Think I’ll start calling youLittle Miss Boringfrom now on.”

Without hesitation, I grabbed a crumpled piece of paper and threw it at his head.

“Alright, alright! I’m sorry!” Trevor chuckled, his hands up in surrender. “Just let me know what I can do to help you. I’m done just sitting here. It’s been hours.”

“Great. You can start by redoing the whole presentation design.”

Trevor stared at me, his mouth falling open. “All of it?”

“It’s hideous.”

He scoffed. “I spent like an hour picking out the design colors to match the codes.”

“It looks like vomit,” I said flatly.

“It was a lot of work!”

“It looks like a six-year-old put that together.”

“Who cares what it looks like as long as the information’s right?”

“I. Want. The. Distinction. Not. Just. The. A.”

Trevor looked back at me with a blank face. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Nope.”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Whatever. When are we turning it in? I’ll do it over the weekend.”

“Tomorrow afternoon is the deadline, genius. Oh, sorry –Thisafternoon.” I corrected sarcastically. “We’re not leaving this room until the project’s done.”

“Oh, come on, you know about the game.”

“So? That’s in the evening.”

“I got practice all day.”

“Not my problem.”

He sighed again; his frustration obvious. “I don’t know what your problem is. I’ll talk to Davis. Get us a three-day extension. It’s not a big deal. I do it all the time. Davis knows about me being Captain. She’ll understand.”

“No, she won’t–”

“You’ll even get more alone time with me.” He winked. “I know you want to.”

I opened a new window on my laptop and found the email from Davis from earlier this week, stating Trevor will not be granted an extension on this project.

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