Page 12 of Ruthless Rose

Chapter 9

When I passed Micah in the parking lot this morning, he hadn’t said a word about his missed tutoring session. He’d looked me up and down with disdain—why, I have no idea—and then continued his conversation with Beau. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. Remind him? I’m not his mama. But dammit, I need him to show up; if not for himself, then for me. Too bad he has no idea that he’s adversely affecting me by behaving like an asshole.

I’m sincerely dreading having a class with him today, which is irritating because I love my foreign language classes.

Micah walks into our Spanish class, all swagger. He glances at me sitting at my assigned table in the back but doesn’t say anything as he folds his big body into his seat and spreads his legs out, exactly as he’d done in the headmaster’s office. Jesus, no wonder Scarlett tripped trying to step over him in their English class earlier this year. He’s huge.

A few minutes later, as I’m staring daggers into his back and unsure if I even want him to know that I’m pissed off, Alora leans over to him and whispers in his ear. He swivels in his seat. “You need something, Daphne?” He gives me a blank look that I find wholly unnerving.

I wet my lip before I open my mouth to respond. My voice sounds scratchy and rough. “Did you forget we’d planned to meet at the coffee shop yesterday?”

“Oh. That. I get hungry after practice. I swung by the coffee shop after I got a bite to eat and you weren’t there.”

I stiffen when I notice the entire class has turned around to see what drama is unfolding next to entertain them. Oh, shit. I bite my lip for a second to stop its wobble. “I guess we have different ideas of what ‘meet at six’ means.”

“I guess you couldn’t be bothered to wait for me.”

Anger flares in my eyes. I hiss, “I did. I was there until six thirty. I changed my plans for you. I’d been there since three thirty, Micah. I sat there for three hours to accommodate your practice schedule.”

Alora gives a dainty little snort. “Wait, so is this the only way you can get a date, Daphne Davis? Offer up your tutoring services? That’s beyond sad.” Her wicked cackling makes the rest of the class laugh in turn.

My vision goes hazy, and I don’t bother looking around to see who thinks this is funny. Assholes.

“I’d say you’d have more luck if you offered a different kind of service, but I’m guessing you're not experienced enough for something like that.” Alora takes one look at my appalled expression and exclaims, “Oh, Double D, don’t cry! I’m just kidding!” She slaps the table in front of her as if me being upset is the funniest thing she’s ever seen.

Shock at both Micah’s dismissive attitude and Alora’s unwarranted attack floods my body. His brows raise as if asking me if I’d like to respond. When I don’t, he turns around and drapes his arm over the back of Alora’s chair, leaving me to stew in silence alone.

“Daphne, could I speak to you for a second?”

I’d been off in my own little world, walking past the gym on my way to AP Lit when the deep voice of Coach Roland catches my attention. I suck in a breath. He’s a big guy, obviously a former football player himself, with crinkles at the corners of his piercing blue eyes and a headful of gray hair. I’ve never taken PE at Rosehaven, so other than our interaction on Monday, I’ve had no other contact with him, and have no idea what kind of man he is.

I turn to him, my eyes as big as saucers. Oh my God, does he know I haven’t started working with Micah? That our first session was a big, fat flop? “Um. Sure.” I glance in the direction I’d been heading. “I really can’t be late for Mrs. Harden’s class, though.”

“Let’s walk, then.” He juts his chin in the direction I need to go, and we start walking. His hand raises to his face, and he runs it over his jaw a few times as if he’s thinking hard about what to say. “I wanted to ask how it’s going with Micah.”

My eyes dart to his. “Oh.” It’s chilly in the hallway, but I swear sweat trickles down my back. I feel what’s coming. Shifting my book bag higher on my shoulder, I nod. “We actually haven’t started yet. We’re trying to figure out how it would work best and where to meet and all that.”

He side-eyes me. “Is that so?”

No.“Yes. We’re planning on starting tomorrow and meeting twice a week.” Please oh please, don’t ask me any more questions. I blow out a controlled breath through pursed lips. Why am I compelled to fib for someone who’s been nothing but hateful to me for three days?

He nods, thoughtful. We stop at the doorway to Mrs. Harden’s room. “Okay. Just make sure you tell me if there’s a problem.”

My teeth sink into my lower lip as I stare at him. “I will.”

“Good. I’m putting my trust in you, Daphne. I need our boy’s grades up.”

“Yes sir. I’ll try my best.”

He takes one last look at me, nodding, before striding away.

Our boy. Why did those two words stand out to me over everything else he’d said?

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