Page 78 of Tutoring the Bad Boy
I think back to that first day of Thanksgiving break. She told me she was leaving my options open. With what I know now, I’m not convinced of that anymore.
“Did you tell Coach Williams I’d sign with Gilroy?” I narrow my eyes as I hold her gaze. “Did you?”
She chews her lower lip, her eyebrows furrowing. Right then, I see it. She lied to me on the first day of break. That’s exactly why recruiters haven’t been calling me. She’s promised I’ll go there.
“I guess that answers my question,” I say and yank my arm away.
I take a step and stop. I know the next words out of my mouth are going to be daggers, but my mom has lied, controlled, and manipulated me for years. At this point, I don’t care if I ever speak to her again. “You know, if you were this controlling with Dad, it’s no wonder he didn’t stick around. He probably got out as soon as he could. Just like I am.”
With that, I leave the room without so much as a look back. I don’t care if she’s hurt. When I said I was done, I meant it. If she’d have shown just even a little bit of remorse, maybe it would have changed how I feel. There was nothing, though. Nothing.
So, why should I even care?
Chapter Thirty-Two
Kaleb
I’m sweating bullets.Ginny texted me last night to meet her in the library. It’s the in I’ve been wanting. Just a second to explain and tell her I knew she was listening in that day in the office. That’s why I said it was all a lie from the beginning. It was totally stupid. The most bone-headed thing I’ve ever done, but I wasn’t using my head that day.
Not only that, but we’re supposed to be acting out a scene from a movie. It’s seventy-five percent of our grade. I don’t want either of us to fail. There’s exactly a week until we’re supposed to be performing it in front of the class. That’s not a lot of time for two people who aren’t even close to being actors. I guess I should just be glad that she’s willing to meet, and hopefully we can have our stuff together by then.
Behind me, I feel a body stop a few feet away. “Let’s get one thing straight.”
Well, she’s speaking to me, so that’s at least a start. I turn, and she backs up.
“I’m not here to hash out our relationship. That’s over, and there’s no discussion.”
“But—”
“No. If you want to pass Mrs. Yates’s class, you will never speak of it. If you do, I will walk out. And before you ask, yes, I’m willing to fail.”
When Chris said she was icy, he wasn’t kidding. Her muscles are tense, and her jaw is tight. She’s not quite shooting daggers, but she’s giving enough tiny cuts that I can still bleed out.
A sound between a sigh and a groan pours from me. “And those are the only terms? I don’t get a say at all? That’s not fair.”
Her lips pinch together, and she shrugs. “It’s as fair as you’re getting from me. You should be glad you’re getting anything at all.”
“Can we at least talk about the pictures?” I’m not hiding the desperation I feel.
Chris also told me that Ginny is staying with Ronnie. According to him, Dixie and Ronnie cornered Ginny. I guess she put two and two together and realized that those same pictures were sent to me. This face to face means that she at least knows there was a little reason behind why I reacted so erratic.
“No,” she says without hesitation.
“Ginny,” I say and take a step toward her. “I—”
She quickly backs away. “No. You stay over there. There will be no touching. We discuss our movie, what scene we want to do, and practice. That is all you’re getting from me.”
It’s the only way I’ll get to see her. If I don’t play by her rules, it’s over. “All right. I’ll play by your rules.”
“Good. Now, go sit over there at the far end of the table.”
As I take a seat, she sits on the floor with her back against the bookshelf.
“Any farther away, and we won’t even be in the same atmosphere,” I say, trying to make a joke.
Her gaze lifts to mine, and a tiny shiver races down my spine. “I’m not here to joke with you.”
Slouching in my seat, I sigh. Great. I’m supposed to act out a scene with a hostile partner. And I thought when we pickedOthellothat it was going to be difficult because it’s a tragedy. How wrong I was.
