I looked up, and…oh.
He wasn’t what I expected. I thought Ryan Montgomery would be an unkempt nerd in his mid twenties, with bitten fingernails and dorky glasses.
But the man in front of me was not that. He was tall, and blond, though his hair was a darker than mine, like golden honey. He was well groomed with a clean shaven jaw. He didn’t wear glasses, and his eyes were a startling green. He wore a knit sweater that looked so soft, for a second I was tempted to reach out and touch it.
He raised a brow, and I realized I was gawking at him like a weirdo. “Oh, um. Yes. That’s me. Tessa.”
He sat down across from me, and gave me an assessing look.
I fidgeted. “What?”
He didn’t blink. “Maria told me you got 17%.”
“Who the hell is Maria?”
He stared at me. “Professor Rodrigo.”
My face went hot. “Oh. Right. Yes, I got 17%.”
This was the part where Ryan was supposed to say everything was okay, and I’d be a math whiz in no time, but instead he just kept looking at me with that unsettling judgmental stare.
“How exactly did you get 17%?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “It might have something to do with the fact I got most of the questions wrong.”
He gave me an unimpressed look. “The questions are very simple.”
“Well, I tried my best,” I said defensively.
“Did you study at all?”
“I was busy,” I said.
“Busy with what?” When I didn’t answer, he raised a brow. “Let me guess. Partying?”
Suddenly, I knew exactly what he saw when he looked at me. A blue eyed, blonde-haired girl wearing a bright pink off-the-shoulder top. In other words, he thought I was an idiot. A bimbo.
Well, I wasn’t stupid. I’d gotten into this college for starters, and Lacewood U was competitive and prestigious. I did well in all of my other subjects — likely because words were my strong suit, not numbers. Yes, I spent a lot of my time partying. But that was my business. Who did he think he was, coming here just to judge me?
“Listen,” I said, voice sharp, “are you going to help me or not?”
He took so long to respond that for a hopeful moment, I thought he’d say no and leave. Sure, I’d be screwed for the redemption exam, but at least I wouldn’t have to spend another second with his judgy emerald eyes on me.
Then he sighed. “Fine.”
He got me to open the textbook and do a few practice questions. Very soon I ran into problems, my pen hovering over my notebook as I frantically tried to figure out what I was supposed to do next.
“So we divide this by two, right?” I asked.
He sighed.
“Oh wait, no I’m meant to subtract seven here.”
Another sigh.
“This is a parabola, isn’t it?”
Another fucking sigh. I tightened the grip on my pen. If I wasn’t careful, I might try and stab him.
