‘I don’t know. They were behind us.’
There was a long silence as she figured out that neither of us was willing to give up the other to benefit her. ‘You are both –’ she paused to harden her already-sharp jaw – ‘expected to follow my rules while you are in my house. If I find one teacher who will say they witnessed a single punch being thrown by either of you, I will toss both of your ill-bred carcasses back into the streets and on your butts without a moment of misgiving! Do. You. Feel. Me?’
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing, because one, I had no doubt she wanted nothing more than to rid herself of both of us, which was anything but funny, and two, my lip was split in two places and would hurt like a motherfucker if I so much as smirked. But a middle-aged woman asking us Do you feel me? What the hell?
Wynn, fingering his chin, said, ‘This sounds familiar … Have you considered making a handout?’
I cough-laughed into a fist, wincing at the pain. Son of a bitch. My heart hammered as hard as it had when I’d first swung my fist at his face.
Her face mottled, and all I could think was the dragon was about to breathe fire. ‘Get out. I’m calling your parents. You are both suspended for a full week. Sit in the outer office until called. Do. Not. Talk.’
Under his breath, Wynn muttered, ‘Shit.’
Luckily, she didn’t hear him over my, ‘Yes, ma’am.’
We jumped up and exited her office, slouching into hard lobby chairs that did nothing for my sore back. I hoped Wynn was hurting even worse than I was. Facing the front counter of the main office, we left an empty chair between us.
I didn’t know what Dad would do or say. He barely spoke to me as it was.
‘Maxfield?’
Surprise, surprise, Wynn defied the do not talk command before the first minute was up. I ignored him.
‘Sorry about what I said. You know, about your mother.’ As if it needed qualifying.
Scratching at a splotch of dried blood on my jeans, I wondered if it was mine or his.
‘It was a dick thing to say.’
I looked at him, confused. ‘Yeah. It was.’
LUCAS
I almost began thinking of myself as two different people, at least where Jacqueline was concerned. I was the guy who’d been mesmerized by her for weeks and had regrettably earned her fear in saving her from an assault, and I was the guy who was the opposite of a threat – trading quips and stories through email while helping her catch up in class.
On one hand, I wanted her to know I was both the class tutor and the guy from Saturday night. Mostly, though, I wished I could be someone else altogether. Someone unrestricted by an otherwise sensible ethical line, and someone untied to possibly the worst night of her life.
Instead of entering the classroom when I arrived, I leaned on the wall across the hall and waited for her to show up. Without intending to be, I was a grudging witness to some banter between Kennedy Moore and Ivy. Leaning on the wall just outside the door, they swapped phone numbers and contact pics. She giggled the entire time. This was the sort of girl this guy thought could replace Jacqueline? There were plenty of intelligent women on this campus, including sorority girls, if that was his thing – but this girl?
No.
I turned my eyes away, and that’s when I noticed Jacqueline, standing in the middle of the hallway, watching them. From her stationary posture and the quiet hurt on her face, her motivations for skipping two weeks of class were all too clear. Not only had he ended their relationship without warning, he wasn’t wasting any time moving on. Only a masochist would want to watch that in action.
Some clumsy dickhead bumped into her then, and I pushed off the wall as her backpack slid down her arm and hit the floor. She righted herself, twisting down as I picked it up. Her eyes flashed up to mine and I wanted nothing more than to shield her from every injury or discomfort she might ever encounter.
So not possible – this I knew.
‘Chivalry isn’t really dead, you know,’ I said, sliding the bag back on to her shoulder.
‘Oh?’ Her cheeks were tinged pink. It was cool outside this morning, but I gathered that her flush was due to embarrassment, not the slight November chill.
‘Nah. That guy’s just an asshole.’ Lifting my chin towards the jerk who’d run into her without even a proper apology, I couldn’t help fixing her dick of an ex in my sights, too, before returning to her. ‘You okay?’
In her eyes, I read her recognition of this recurrent question, and I hated myself for constantly reminding her of that night, even if that was the last thing I wanted to do.
Maybe she couldn’t help but be reminded, no matter what I said or did. I needed nothing to trigger my personal nightmares, after all. They came indiscriminately, regardless of what I did to avoid them.
‘Yes, fine.’ Her voice was a deflated whisper as she glanced towards the doorway. Moore and his would-be conquest had gone inside, and she moved to follow her classmates. ‘Thank you.’
Her thank you reminded me of the rainy day I’d held the door for her. The first time I’d seen her up close, looked into her eyes, and admitted to myself that I wanted her.
Damn.
She didn’t glance back or notice that I entered the classroom behind her. From the last row, I leaned back in my seat and watched her takes notes as Heller covered the whiteboard with new material, her furrowed brow and general body language screaming not getting this. I shouldn’t have wanted her to need Landon Maxfield, but I knew she’d be emailing me later, and I was already anticipating the questions I wanted to ask her.
Then, leaning down to reach into her backpack, she looked directly back at me.
So, she knew I was in the class, and where I sat. She must have noticed me on Monday before I’d seen her standing there. She must have chosen not to sit next to me. She’d preferred to take a seat that required her to climb over the outstretched legs of a guy who napped in class at least once a week.
But she knew where I was, and she was curious enough to glance back. I tried to keep my expression level, but the edge of my mouth pulled into a smile, even as I fought it. She whipped her face forward, and didn’t look back again.
When Heller wrapped up for the day, I hightailed it out the back, while Jacqueline thumbed through her spiral and turned it towards the guy next to her.
Before I could escape the building, a student stopped me. She’d been in Heller’s class last spring, but had dropped. She’d signed up to try again, but wasn’t doing any better this semester. She never came to tutoring sessions, and the only time she’d asked for individual tutoring, she’d wanted to meet off campus. I’d said no to that, as we’d been trained to do.
‘So we can’t meet at my apartment?’ she asked, as if we hadn’t had this exact conversation a few months prior.