Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 65683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
The class I was actually doing good in? “Yeah, I don’t need your help with chemistry. It’s simple math and science in a tiny little boring bottle.”
She cleared her throat and looked down at the study sheet. “I was told to be thorough.”
I choked out a laugh. “By the tutoring gods? Seriously, I’m doing good in—”
“Your dad called the dean. You need to have an A in organic chem to get into grad school.”
I shot to my feet and slammed my hands on the table. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
She pinched the bridge of her nose and stared down at the sheet. “Can we just get through this? I was assigned to you, and you very kindly paid off all my other students, so you’re all I have right now. Sit your ass down and let’s just survive.”
That was what I’d been doing my whole life.
Surviving.
Poor little rich kid, must be so hard.
No. You know what was hard? Waking up one day and hearing your dad tell one of his business partners that having kids was just something you did, another notch in the good old belt and that a kid's only job was to make their parents proud and to listen. To get in line and say thank you.
I still remember how fucking excited I was when my dad finally hugged me after winning State, only to turn toward a reporter for a picture. The hug was maybe a few seconds. But pictures lasted forever. He talked about that picture to strangers more than he ever talked about it to me, and when or if he ever did bring it up, it was to tell me that I’d lost weight and needed to bulk up more.
I couldn’t win.
What was the point even anymore? Dark, vivid thoughts flashed through my brain in ways that had me clenching my teeth. “I think we should cancel today.”
“Vaughan…” She finally met my eyes. “I’m trying the best I can.”
“So am I,” I snapped. “I hate him.”
She scooted her chair over. The tension between us was so thick I couldn’t figure out if it was because of my own embarrassment and anger or the situation between Tru and me. So much shit was going through my head I didn’t even realize it when she scooted her chair even closer until her thigh was pressed against mine. What was happening?
“I’m not consoling you.” She tapped her pen.
“Good. Because I refuse all further consoling.”
“Fine.” Her thigh pressed even harder against mine. “The admin for tutoring is watching.”
I snorted. “Probably taking pictures for my dad. I wouldn’t put it past him to ask for actual proof.”
She flinched next to me. “Just look down at the paper and attempt not to snarl or cuss me out, and we’ll get through it.”
“That’s the fucking problem, Tru. I shouldn’t have to get through it.”
“Life isn’t fair, Vaughan. Suck it up. The minute you start feeling sorry for yourself is the minute you start caving in and believing all the lies people say about you and more importantly the ones you say about yourself. Now do the damn chemistry so you can angry fuck me later.”
I laughed at that. “Wow, do you really think that’s my only motivation here?”
Her hand slid up my thigh. “God, I can’t believe I’m doing this. It’s like I’ve lost my mind. Thanks for the pee bottle, by the way. I have a gift for you at home too.”
Home. I liked the sound of that. “Oh? Is it that nurse outfit we talked about?”
“No, it’s one of your phobias.”
I frowned. “Being trapped in small spaces?”
She pressed her lips together and shrugged. “Who knows? See? Let’s focus on the darkness that awaits you.”
I shook my head and looked down at the paper. “I can’t really focus on anything right now other than the fact that my dad is a controlling dickhead, and I need to get drafted.”
“Focus.” She nodded. “Focus. I hate you so much for making me do this. Know that this is not fun for me, and I’m only doing this because I know you too well—unfortunately.”
“Huh?” What the hell sort of language was she speaking?
She stood and grabbed her stuff angrily, shoving everything in her bag before leaning down and pointing at me with her pen. “Level four, ancient history, be there in two minutes.”
Level four of the library?
What the hell was up there, and why were we studying ancient history?
She didn’t give me a chance to ask any questions when she went over to the stairs. I slowly gathered my things and walked up the stairs. My brain was a blur of rage and anger still at my dad, and if I was being totally honest—disappointment and sadness. I’d never been the guy to ask the question if anyone in the world actually loved me.