Page 30 of Poor Little Rich Girl

“We have a student mentoring program which I recommend you take advantage of. Noah Marlowe is the coordinator. I can set up a meeting with him if you like—”

Noah. Of course, it’s him. “Don’t bother. I can do it myself.”

“Noah, a word.” I plonk my ass down on the seat next to him.

Noah stiffens.

On the opposite side of the royal table, Gabriel leans forward. Eli, who’d been about to take the seat I now occupy, shoves his tray down next to Noah. I’ve gotten to their table early, while Alec is still in line. No way do I want him to overhear this.

“Fuck off,” Noah growls.

“Look, I’m not some masochist who’s thrilled at the idea of working with a guy who hates me. Ms. Drysdale said I’ve got to pull my grades up or I’ll be out of school. That’s not an option for me. You run the tutoring program, and I need a tutor. This is a business transaction, nothing more.”

“What subjects?” Noah’s hands form fists in his lap, but he doesn’t make any move to hurt me the way he wishes. He just stares at my face, those dark eyes searching mine. I don’t like the intensity of him. I resist the urge to slide away.

“All of them.”

“I’ll tutor you,” Gabriel pipes up. “You know how good I am at chemistry. You’re sodium fine, we could do it on the table periodically.”

“Mackenzie, I can help with geology. You’re obviously made of mica rock, with that perfect cleavage,” another guy down the table pipes up, and they all snigger. All except Noah, who still has me fixed with his death glare.

“Careful, guys,” Cleo smirks as she sets down her tray next to his. “You don’t want her to fuck up your nose.”

“Forget it.” I stand up. “I knew this was a mistake.”

Noah sighs.

“Fine.”

“Fine, what?”

“Be in the library during study period today, and I’ll figure out if I can even help you.”

“You’re an angel, you know that? A real saint.” I blow him an air kiss as I stand up to leave, and I swear I see the steam coming out his ears.

Noah and I share a study period. The library isn’t far from the bathroom where I eat my lunch, so I arrive early and spread my books over a table in the corner to save it for us. Not that any other students would consider sitting with me.

I’m reading my battered copy of Caesar’s The Conquest of Gaul when Noah drops into the chair opposite me. He runs fingers through his dark, wavy hair. At first glance, he’s calm, but I sense just underneath a storm is brewing.

A dark thrill runs through my veins as he looks me over, and that darkness in his eyes flares to life. Underneath that prep-school facade, Noah Marlowe is dangerous. And Jupiter help me, but I do love the bad boys. It’s in my blood.

“All the other tutors in the program are booked solid,” he growls. “So I’m stuck with you. Don’t waste my time, and don’t try to be cute. I’m here to help you pass, and that’s it.”

“Deal.” I lick my lower lip.

“Show me your last assignments. That’ll give me an idea of what I’m working with.”

I pull my history essay from my folder and hold it out to him. Noah stares at it, letting my hand hang outstretched between us. He can’t even bear to risk our hands touching. I drop it on the table, and he slides it toward him with one finger, as if it’s infected.

Noah holds the pages right at the edge, his eyes flicking across the text. That same nervous dance I felt when Ms. Drysdale handed back my paper starts up in my gut again. I want this guy to think I’m smart and clever and interesting, and that’s profoundly fucked up given everything I know and my situation.

When he’s done, Noah tosses the paper back to me. “This is shit.”

“You’re not a very good teacher. Aren’t you supposed to be encouraging me to be all that I can be?” I flash him a fake candy cane smile.

“Why are you here?” he growls.

“Because I know that essay’s shit. But I don’t know why.” I shrug. “Because I need to pass senior year.”

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