"Hey there, Nancy Drew," he grins, slinging an arm around my shoulders as he walks me toward my door.
"Have fun with Missy?" I ask sweetly.
His smile shifts into a smirk. "Sure did." He swings my back door open, grabs a box of Oreos from my kitchen pantry, and follows me quietly up the steps to my bedroom.
I take a makeup remover wipe and start removing my mascara. "Do you ever take her out or you just hook up?" I ask.
"Her?" Cam stuffs a cookie into his mouth whole.
"Yeah,her. Missy. Lacey, whoever." I watch Cam through my vanity mirror. He's had a few drinks tonight, but not too much - I can tell by the slight gloss of his eyes, but they remain in focus.
"Now what would be the point of that?" he asks, and I roll my eyes. "So tell me about your date. He act like a gentleman?" Cam's voice only thinly veils the inherent threat in the question, and I roll my eyes again. "Ror, I mean it. He behave?"
Makeup free, I join him on the bed. "I can't believe you threatened him!"
Cam doesn't skip a beat. "Of course I threatened him," he deadpans.
I sigh. "He was a perfect gentleman, Cam."
SIX
P R E S E N T D A Y
FRIDAY HAS DRAGGEDon, but I'm not exactly looking forward to tonight. Instead of last week's rager, Andrew's party will be a smaller get-together. Only about thirty or so seniors, according to Tina - their "friends". I tried to make an excuse not to go, but Carl gave me her pouty face, and Dr. Schall had given me such approval when I mentioned it during our session yesterday, and God knows how desperate I am for male approval.
But it's a great deal easier to remain invisible at a party of a hundred than at a "small get-together".
Anyway, the weekend won't start just yet. Now that the last bell of the day has rung, I head back to room 313 to see who's been assigned as my student tutor for calculus for the next month. The tutors and tutorees will meet up now and make arrangements for our sessions going forward, and since we have a quiz on Monday, I'm hoping my tutor will have some time right now to go over a few things with me.
There are a few students lingering in front of the door to the classroom, and as I approach I can see the list is tacked to it. I also can't help but notice Sam leaning against the adjacent wall of lockers with his arms crossed, waiting. I hastily look away, though I'm almost positive he was looking at me out of the corner of his eye.
"You're mine," he murmurs as I pass him.
His words make me freeze. I swallow anxiously and turn to him before I even reach the list. Those words - they are a trigger, and as I feel my heart rate accelerate, I force myself to take even breaths.
Those words.
But in Sam's voice, for some inexplicable reason, they don't threaten me.
"Excuse me?" I say tremulously.
He cocks an eyebrow at me, like he's sizing me up.
I will not freak out, I will not freak out.
"You're my tutoree."
I exhale. "Oh."
Damn it.This isn't going to work. For one, how the hell am I supposed to concentrate on calculus with those midnight blues and those full pink lips just inches from my face? Not to mention that chiseled jaw...
All of that is beside the point, of course, since Sam has made it pretty clear he wants nothing to do with me. He hasn't said a word to me all week and it's obvious that since our interaction at last week's party, he's realized that there is nothing appealing about a friendship with a girl who has panic attacks, snaps at people, and slaps them for no apparent reason. Truthfully, I don't blame him.
He smirks at me and reveals a perfect dimple I haven't noticed before. I force myself to gather my wits before I start drooling.
"I'll, uh, see if someone will switch," I offer.
I'm surprised by Sam's resulting scowl. "Why?" he asks. From his tone, it would seem I've offended him. Again.
