When Coach Benson was satisfied with Noah’s word, he relaxed in his seat, watching Noah with a pointed stare. And now Noah knew Coach Benson had more to say to him than just his warnings about the tutoring.
“I’ve noticed you haven’t been doing so good at practice.” Noah looked down, ignoring the pang in his chest. “You got to do better, Noah. This season will be starting soon, and you got to pick it up. Now isn’t the time to mess up because of nerves or schoolwork. If you want to go pro and be a professional hockey player and get paid the big bucks, you have to give it your all.”
“Okay, coach,” Noah said, hoping that no more would be said. Every time Coach Benson spoke about his skating, his words had a tendency to weigh heavily on Noah to the point that he couldn’t shake them.
Coach Benson must have noticed that and took mercy on him. He waved him off dismissively, and Noah stood from his seat and left. Tomorrow he would speak to Professor Bryant and fix this before she spoke to Coach Benson.
CHAPTER
11
NOAH
N
OAH WOULDN’T SAY HE HATED BEING IGNORED, but he would say that whenever it happened, he found it odd. Since he was young, Noah had always been surrounded by attention. Whether it was attention from his family, or the attention of the people in the crowd watching him on the ice, or the girls around him who wanted him, he usually had it, and most people's eyes lingered on him. But here inside of Intro to Psychology at 8:55 am, he could not get one woman's attention at all.
Professor Bryant purposely ignored him the whole class. And Noah was positive she was ignoring him from the simple fact that even when he raised his hand to answer a question, which was a first for him, she would call on anyone else, sometimes just willfully not looking in his direction at all.
He knew that after their last conversation, she wouldn't be happy with him, especially with the way she had stormed off that night, but he didn't think she would treat him like this. Like he didn't matter at all to her, not even as a student in her class. Noah didn't like it. He would change that.
The moment class was over, and the students began to file out of the room, Noah stood from his seat and headed in the opposite direction of the students towards Professor Bryant, who was packing her things. When Noah got close to her, he opened his mouth to speak, but another student made it to her first. Noah internally sighed. He didn't have time for this, especially when she had another class she had to go to directly after this. He had limited time to speak to her before she spoke to Coach Benson and told him that their tutoring sessions were off.
Noah waited, rocking on the back of his heels as Professor Bryant spoke to the student with a smile on her face. She never smiled at him like that, ever. It was bright and wide, showing off her pearly white teeth, and she had a dimple in one cheek. She looked happy to give this student advice, while when tutoring him, she never looked happy to teach him at all.
Noah didn't like it and wanted to understand why.
When he felt a tug on his arm, he looked away from Professor Bryant and glanced down to his right to see Julie. Noah had been so focused on getting Professor Bryant's attention during class, that he had barely noticed that Julie was sitting next to him at all. He barely talked to her like he usually did during class.
"What are you doing later tonight?" Julie asked with a shy smile.
Noah glanced back at Professor Bryant to make sure she wouldn't scurry off with the given chance, and surprisingly, he was assaulted with the sight of her brown eyes on him. They weren't angry or annoyed, just merely curious. He gave a slow, unsure smile, and she arched a brow before frowning. Why couldn't he get her to smile?
She looked away from him and continued to say something to the student in front of her as she slipped her bag on her shoulder. She was going to leave soon.
"I'm getting tutored later on," Noah said pointedly, loud enough for Professor Bryant to hear. She paused for a second, her eyes flickering on him accusingly, probably wondering if it was meant for her to hear, and once their eyes connected, Noah grinned, confirming that those words were for her.
Professor Bryant glared at him before waving her goodbyes to the student in front of her and taking off to the door.
"Sorry, Jules. I'll see you later," he told her, offhandedly without looking at her as he followed Professor Bryant, hot on her heels. He needed to speak to her now.
The squeak of his sneakers followed after the click of her heels as they turned the corner together. She let out an insufferable sigh that showed she was aware of his presence next to her.
"I don't know if you didn't get the memo, but I'm not tutoring you anymore," she said.
"I'm sorry," Noah apologized. "I didn't mean to say those things. I was in a bad mood that night."
Noah waited for her to respond to his apology as they walked all the way to the next class she was teaching. For a second, Noah was worried that he wouldn't get a response at all until they stopped in front of the next class she was teaching, and she immediately whirled around on him.
"One of my biggest pet peeves is working with people that don't care," she said, breathing heavily from their walk to this class. "That's why I don't require attendance. If you want to fail my class, then fail it, but don't waste my time and others."
"I do care—" her gaze narrowed on him, and his voice stopped. No, he didn't. This was an elective course he wouldn't have bothered taking at all if he didn't have to. But he did have to. And he had to pass it to keep playing on the ice.
"Don't lie to me," she said.
"Okay," he said with a shrug. "I don't necessarily care about psychology in particular, but I need to pass this course. You know I need to pass this."
Professor Bryant shook her head, biting on her bottom lip, probably contemplating whether she should take her word back or not. Noah hoped she did. He didn't know what else to tell her. Sob stories didn't work on someone like her. She wouldn't just let him skate by on a my-parents-died-even-though-they-are-totally-alive-and-please-god-don't-spite-me lie that students usually told their professors to get out of bad grades.
