I take a deep breath and stand up, and Leti looks so amused that I’m seriously going to smack the snot out of him as soon as there aren’t any witnesses. I make my way to the stairs and then take one down, two down, three down.
“Adam,” Dr. Pullman says as he walks closer to where Adam is standing. They meet halfway. “I’ve lost track of how many times you’ve been tardy or absent in this class. I might be willing to overlook it if you actually paid any attention to the lessons or at least attempted to do well, but it’s become obvious you’re here for . . . well, why are you here?” Dr. Pullman shakes his head to himself and continues before Adam can respond. “The last day to drop this class is Friday. You won’t get a refund, but you won’t get a failing grade. If you don’t drop, I’m giving you a zero. I’m tired of you coming in late and interrupting my lectures.”
“But I need this class to graduate . . .” Adam says, like it never even occurred to him that he might not pass.
“Maybe you should have thought of that earlier,” Dr. Pullman informs him unapologetically.
And then, inexplicably, words start coming out of my mouth before I even comprehend what I’m doing. “Dr. Pullman, I’m so sorry,” I say, coming to stand next to a very curious-looking Adam. “Today was my fault . . .” Uh, it was?! “I was . . . going over class notes with Adam this morning, and . . . I lost track of time, and he hadn’t eaten anything at all, and so I told him he should really stop at Lion’s Den to get something, like maybe a BLT or a chicken salad sandwich or even a bowl of soup or something . . .” Okay, I’m full-on rambling now while everyone looks at me like I’m crazy. I smile sweetly. “You know, to help with his low blood sugar and all that jazz. But anyway, it was my fault and he really was trying to do better and he really was late because he was aspiring to improve in this class.” Lies, lies, lies!
Dr. Pullman gazes at me suspiciously. “You were helping him polish his notes?”
“Yes.” I nod vigorously. “We . . . we already arranged tutoring for this weekend and everything. He really wants to do better.”
Dr. Pullman looks over at Adam then, who is staring at me with a still very-freaking-confused expression on his face. “You do?”
Adam’s eyes slowly drift from my face to Dr. Pullman’s. “Uh . . . yeah, I do. Tutoring . . . this weekend . . .”
Dr. Pullman inhales deeply as he considers this new information, glancing back and forth between me and Adam. “Okay. Rowan, if you’re going to help him . . . and Adam, if you’re serious about this . . . one more chance. Don’t be late again.”
I nod and exit the room, passing by Leti with Adam close behind. What in God’s name did I just do, and better yet, why did I just do it?!
“Hey,” Adam calls to me when I keep walking. Having no idea what to do about any of what just happened, I nervously turn around to face him. Over his shoulder, Leti is one gigantic smile. He winks at me and then slips away. “That was . . . uh . . .” Adam scratches the side of his chin adorably. “Why did you do that?”
By the way he looks at me, I can tell he has no idea who I am. And I’m not sure if that makes me feel relieved or so disappointed that I need to skip speech class to wallow in Dee’s room. “It just looked like you could use some help,” I say, forcing my shoulders to shrug in an attempt at looking casual.
He studies me for a moment, and my assumption that he doesn’t recognize me falters. He scrutinizes my features until his gaze locks with mine. “Do I know you?”
I shake my head a little too vigorously. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Are you sure?” His head tilts slightly to the side, and I nearly let out a swooning sigh. “You look really familiar.”
“Positive,” I lie.
“Are you sure you’ve never been to one of my shows?”
I contemplate acting like I have no idea who he is or that he’s in a band, but decide that’d be overkill, and it would probably make him even more suspicious. “Nope. I just thought you could use a hand . . . Sorry, I acted impulsively.”
“No,” he blurts when I start to turn away from him. I turn back around. “No. No, you’re fine . . . Thanks.” He smiles, and it brings back an onslaught of memories. Him pressing me against the kitchenette counter. My pink heels lying in the walkway of the tour bus. Him leading me up the stairs. Me asking him to help me forget. Him smirking and asking me to count backward from ten. I feel my cheeks redden before he adds, “I actually think tutoring sounds like just what I need.”
“Huh?”
“Tutoring. This weekend.”
“Oh . . .”
“We kind of have to now anyway, don’t we? I mean, if I don’t do halfway decent on the test we have on Monday, we’re both screwed. He’ll know you were just covering for me.”
Freaking hell. I hadn’t thought of that.
“Just one problem,” Adam says. “I have a few shows out of town this weekend . . .” He pulls a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and packs them against his palm as he thinks about it, staring at the ground. Then his eyes lift back to mine. “You’ll have to come along.”