I drop my pastry on my lap.
Sebastian is left speechless, his lips pressed tightly together.
Connor won this round. But when Rose enters the mix, I just hope he’s able to win the whole battle.
After Connor snuffs out the cigarette on his empty cup, he masterfully bottles his annoyance towards Sebastian, and his eyes fall to the scattered scantrons. “You should be taking those in a quiet testing environment, preferably somewhere clean.” He collects the gum wrappers, and Sebastian’s crinkled magazines, tossing them in a nearby trash bin.
“She’s fine,” Sebastian says, finding his voice again.
“What are you even doing here?” Connor asks. “If Lily’s taking her finals, she doesn’t need to be tutored anymore.”
“I’m monitoring the exams so she doesn’t cheat,” he lies. I want to snort, given the fact that minutes ago he offered to bubble-in my finals for me.
“I can do that,” Connor says. “Go propagate cancer somewhere else.” He takes a seat next to me—right on the same cushion where I buried the tests.
I hear thecrunchand thecrackleof papers, muffled but still distinguishable. I close my eyes and count to five in my head. This cannot be happening.
“Lily,” Connor says tensely, “am I sitting on porn?”
What?! I open one eye and meet Connor’s gaze. I expect him to be calm in the normal I’m-Connor-Cobalt-and-I-don’t-show-real-emotions kind of way. Instead, he wears disappointment fairly well. This is the moment where I can either out myself as a somewhat-cheater or take the hit for stashing porn. There’s no contest.
I spent days without self-love or any kind of sex from Lo, trying desperately to return to good faith with him. All of that will be squandered in one moment if he thinks it’s dirty mags. And I’m so sick of lying.
“It’s not porn,” I confess.
Connor stands and lifts up the cushion. He stares at the papers, the top exam with a random name (Jeremy Gore) and a letter grade (A-).
He shakes his head. “I knew it,” he says rather calmly, adding all the pieces together so easily. Must be a smart-person trait. I bet Sherlock Holmes was a certified genius.
Sebastian rolls his eyes and takes out his phone, as if this is all very dull for him, but I imagine that Connor has him shaking internally, a few more moves away from dethroning him in Rose’s life.
I gather up the tests before Connor tries to toss them out. I still have finals to take. “I can explain,” I say as I straighten out the papers on my lap.
He returns the cushion to its original state, and before I can offer an explanation, the front door swings open.
“Just because the bike can reach a hundred-fifty, doesn’t mean you should go that fucking fast. You nearly cut off a car behind you.”
“You’re exaggerating,” Daisy says.
“He honked at you.”
“Or he honked atyou.You were riding my brake lights.”
“I was ten fucking feet behind you, and next time, I’m taking you to a race track.”
“Really?” I can hear the smile behind the word.
“Yeah, if you want to fucking kill yourself, at least you won’t cause a five-car pileup while you’re doing it.”
When they walk into the living room, Daisy is smiling from ear to ear. Both carry motorcycle helmets under their arms, reminding me that Ryke agreed to Daisy’s offer. About a week ago, he told her he would keep the black Ducati in return for teaching her how to ridesafely, which must be a hard job with Daisy as a pupil.
“You were supposed to tutor her,” Connor says to Sebastian, actual anger seething in his eyes. It’s kind of terrifying.
Ryke and Daisy go quiet by the staircase, realizing they walked in on a…situation.
Sebastian pockets his phone in his blazer. “You and I both know that one is a lost cause. I did her a favor.”
“She doesn’t need another handout.” He invades Sebastian’s space again. “You’re a lazy sanctimonious prick who profits off of apathetic trust fund babies. The studentswho need those exams are the ones who can’t afford them. Youknowinglyperpetuate a repugnant cycle.” He stares at him like he’s shit on the bottom of his shoe. “You keep the rich kids stupid and the poor kids poor.”
