Page 7 of The Surprise Play
Rummaging around in the front pouch of his bag, he pulls out a pen and uncaps it with his teeth.
His teeth? Ew!
Not even a pencil case?
Who is this animal?
I would never treat my stationery with such disregard.
That’s because you’re a stationery nerd. Now say something back!
“Um.” I clear my throat and shuffle in my seat again, tugging on my skirt and fidgeting with the top button of my cardigan.
Wily’s eyes dart to my fingers, then trail down my body.
I flush, hating his perusal.
What the hell is he doing?
Is he… is he checking me out?
I bristle, then hold my breath as I wait for that standard look of repulsion or disinterest that I usually get from guys like him, but his lips just quirk at the corners, and he looks more curious than anything.
Or maybe he’s having to work to hide his laughter.
So, he’s one ofthosejocks. Thinks it’s funny that not everyone on the planet is ripped and fit like they are.
I squirm, angling my body away from him as annoyance flares inside me. Tapping my space bar, I light up my screen and wish to God my name wasn’t on this stupid tutoring list. I wish I didn’t need the money!
But you do, so just woman up already and get started.
“So…” I scratch my collarbone. “Maybe we could run through the tutoring you’ve already had. That’ll give me a gauge of where you’re at and what kind of support you’ll need.” I try to keep my tone professional, my emotions in check. I’m good at that, right? I’ve had years of practice.
“Okay.” Wily sniffs, swiping a finger under his nose. “So, you probably know that Coach Jones is a real hard-ass. He’s always had the rule that if you slack off in class, you’re not worthy to be on the field. He’ll bench us in a heartbeat. I mean, the season is basically over—and we’re in playoffs now, so he’s not about to bench me—but he’s still riding me about graduating. And as much as I don’t give a shit, my sister made the point that I have spent four years here, so maybe I should at least try to come out with a degree.”
“I like your sister already,” I quip.
He snickers. “Anyway, last year, I hired a guy, and he did my assignments for me, and that got me through the season. But his workload is getting on top of him this year, so he can’t fit me in anymore, and I just need the same?—”
“Wait, he what?” I shake my head, only just registering the words. “He did the assignmentsforyou?”
“Yeah, I mean…” Wily shrugs. “I’ve got a really busy schedule with football and everything. It was a good setup for us, you know? We’d meet, I’d show him what needed to be done, then he’d fill in the gaps.”
My eyes narrow. “How big were the gaps?”
“Oh, you know.” His eyes dart from me to his scrappy pile of papers. He taps his pen on top of them. “It varied.”
I’m sure it did.I’m starting to get a pretty clear picture already.
“So, he basically just did your work. You guys cheated.”
“No.” Wily’s eyes bulge, the beat with his pen picking up tempo. “I saw everything before I handed it in. We made sure it sounded like my voice and shit. And he’d go over every assignment with me before I had to present it or whatever, so I was still learning everything I needed to, right? And still had to sit those heinous exams and tests on my own, so I wasn’t cheating.”
I shake my head, but Wily grins like I’m agreeing with him.
“It was a great setup.” He sighs wistfully. “Such a bummer he can’t keep going this year, you know? But…” His gaze darts back to my face, his dimpled smile coming into full effect as his voice drops to a flirtatious, husky timbre. “Now I’ve got you.”
I stare at him for a beat, really soaking in what I assume is full-blown Wily Wilson charm.
