“Obviously, but I was way too busy with football and I failed it. I didn’t make it to class that much that year.”
I can’t even understand the concept of not going to class.
“And you’re just getting back to it?”
I wonder what advisor would allow him to wait this long to take the class over?
“What year are you in?” I ask.
“I’m a senior.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”
“How many times do I have to tell you that for you to believe me?”
“I’m not trying to be an ass about it. I’m just not used to it. It’s kind of cool.”
I’ve seen guys on campus toss around a few balls on the yard and walk in packs with matching jerseys and jackets on, thinking they're God’s gift to the universe and now I understand why.
He’s just not used to being recognized?
Oh, brother, this guy is seriously full of himself.
“So, you put off taking the class to the bitter end, huh?”
“Judgmental much? Honestly, I forgot about the damn class until my counselor reminded me last month that I’m going to need to pass it to graduate.”
He can’t possibly have someone like my advisor. She keeps me on a tight leash. I guess the nursing department is a lot different from… whatever school his major is in.
“Don’t they give ball players a pass? If you’re so important to the team, why wouldn’t they just give you the grade you need and move on?”
The “freak” drills a hole of condemnation straight through my head with a gaze that zings down my spine and to my core. I don’t think he means to be sexy in this particular moment, but hotness oozes out of him without his consent.
It is what it is.
Jerk or not, I see why girls fall all over themselves for him. This guy has got the goods.
“Players don’t get passes at CGU. We work hard for every grade we get, just like you mere mortals.”
Okay, he’s pissed.
Perhaps I misspoke.
I scoot a little further back in the booth and change the tenor of my voice. I need to try a different approach because this ball player just may have the juice to persuade Dr. Lee to dismiss me from the tutoring center, which would mean I’d have to find a new work-study job for next semester. That would be a horrible situation. All the good jobs are taken at the beginning of the year and I don’t need that type of stress. This is probably the most difficult year in my program.
“I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect.” Although, I kind of did. “Look, why don’t I talk to Dr. Lee and make sure you get someone really good to help you? I can think of two people off of the top of my head that are better writing coaches than me. They’re English and political science majors.”
“But I want you,” he says firmly and continues to stare me square in the eyes with the deepest hazel pupils I’ve ever seen. “I was told that you were the best student tutor in the program and I only want the best.”
I need this work-study job as a tutor to defray the staggering costs of my tuition, but there’s no way I can work with this Freak person. I doubt he would even take it seriously, and I only have time to tutor one person while keeping up with my own studies over break. That person should be Aaron. That was always the plan.
“I’m sorry, but–“
Before I can finish my sentence, Freak motions with his hand for the server to come back over to our table. She smiles as she saunters over with a pad and pen to write down our order.
“Ready to order, Freak?” she asks politely.
“We sure are. What’s on special today?”
“The pork chops are good today. They’re smothered in a homemade southern gravy.”
