Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
She blinks at me, and that wild look in her blue eyes tells me she has a plan, one I’m not going to like. “I know how to fix this.”
“Yeah, me too. Grab the first bus to Canada. You don’t happen to have a winter coat and hat I can borrow, do you?”
“Don’t be so dramatic.” I open my mouth to tell her I’m being less than dramatic, but she continues with, “It’s not as bad as you think. In fact, this could be good.” I glare at her so hard I’m beginning to give myself a headache. “Look,” she begins, her expression changing as she goes all therapist on me. “There isn’t a guy on that team who doesn’t like to talk about, or hear about, his cock. You gave Landon hero status, Ella.”
“Oh please, like he needed me to say anything to give him hero status. The guy is already like a god on campus.” Peyton offers me that all-knowing smirk again and I snarl at her. “For the millionth time, I do not like him.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
She puts her hands on my shoulders, aware that I’m about to stomp off to my bedroom like a petulant child. “Fine, you don’t like him, and you can’t quit this gig because you need the money, the credit, and—”
“And now I’m stuck having to face him one on one.” I slap my forehead. “Could this day get any worse?”
“Coach could have asked you to tutor Caleb.” She pulls a face like she’d just eaten something distasteful. “That could have been worse.”
“I’m not so certain,” I say under my breath. Peyton might have had a thing with Caleb that went bad fast, but he’s nothing to me. Tutoring him in English would be easier, because every time I looked at him, or sat close to him, I wouldn’t have some ridiculous fantasy running around inside my brain.
You hate football players, Ella.
Why on Earth do I have to keep reminding myself of that?
I take a calming breath and glance toward the window when a car goes by, honking the horn. Freshmen, likely. “I could go to the Dean.” It’s an option, but I already feel the fight going out of me.
“What will that accomplish?” Peyton puckers her lips as I consider it. She’s right, it won’t accomplish anything. In fact, it might make matters worse for me. If I don’t get this credit…
Despite that, I say, “It’s blackmail, Peyton. Coach Meyer is blackmailing me into tutoring a student.”
“He could have fired you.”
“I wish he would have,” I grumble.
“No, you don’t. You can’t take a chance on losing your scholarship.” Her hands fall from my shoulders and she walks to the kitchen to grab two water bottles.
“You’re right,” I mutter, defeat clear in my voice. “I don’t and I can’t. But to ask me to tutor Landon…” She hands me a bottle and I take a big sip and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “That’s going too far.” I give a shake of my head. “After overhearing our conversation, he knew he had me right where he wanted me.” With a snort, I lift my water bottle and click it with Peyton’s. “Well done, Coach. Well done.”
“Yeah, after hearing you talk about Landon’s cock, I don’t know why—”
“Can we just not say that anymore.” I take another fast sip to wet my parched throat. “Can we just not say Landon’s cock.”
She taps her chin, and frowns. “Come to think of it, I guess I can understand why he asked you. He knows your grades since he interviewed you for the position, and you made it clear you weren’t interested, and Landon has a way of charming the girls out of their pants. I guess Coach figured you weren’t susceptible to his charm, and could get the job at hand done.”
Don’t think about hand jobs, don’t think about hand jobs.
Great, now I’m thinking of hand jobs.
I wipe my damp brow, and push my hair back. “Yeah, well he doesn’t have to worry there, but it’s still blackmail, and he could have hired a guy to tutor him. I’m not the only option on campus.”
Her mouth turns up at the corner. “Landon can probably charm a guy out of his pants too.”
“You are not helping.”
“It’s a win/win.” She lifts her hand and holds out one finger. “One, Landon needs his grade up.” She holds up a second finger. “Two, Coach needs Landon to play.” A third finger joins the mix. “And three, you need the credit and don’t forget the extra cash that comes with tutoring will definitely go a long way in getting that new camera you want.”
I pause as visions of the Panasonic Lumix flashes in my mind. I’ve been drooling over that piece of equipment since it hit the market. My birthday is coming up and I wouldn’t dream of asking my parents for it. No, all their disposable income goes to keeping Ivy in school, in her very expensive sorority, at that. How lucky that I received an academic scholarship, considering they couldn’t afford to send us both away to Kingston College here in South California. The droughts the last few years have really hit our farm hard, and forking out the money for two of us was out of the question. Thanks to my hard work, Ivy now gets an elite education, without ever having worked for it. I just wish she’d put a little more energy into her Arts degree and less into getting her MRS. Yeah, she’s basically here to find herself a rich husband. I don’t begrudge her, though. I want only what’s best for her. I always have. Just like she wants what’s best for me.
“Okay, what do you have in mind for fixing this?” I finally ask.
“You need to come to the party tonight.”
I back up, and give a hard shake of my head. “No way. That is not going to fix anything.”
“Sure it is. All the guys will be there, and you can apologize to them. You can’t hide from this, and coming forth, owning what you did is the best approach.”
I groan. She’s right. I know it, but how the hell can I face those guys? “Can’t I just do it tomorrow after practice or something?”
“Nope.” She grabs my hand and starts hauling me into my bedroom. “It has to be tonight. You won’t get any sleep if you don’t get this done and over with right away. You can apologize and say you were wrong when you called them all brawn and no brains.”
I crinkle my nose, upset with myself. “That really wasn’t very nice of me.”
“It wasn’t and you’re a nice person, Ella.” She stops and turns to me. Her face is soft, her eyes wide and sympathetic. “I know why you did it, though. But none of these guys were responsible for what happened to Jacob.”
Hearing Jacob’s name on her tongue floods my veins with ice. Jacob was a good guy, the best guy I knew. His future was ripped right out from underneath him, thanks to a bunch of jocks flexing their muscle and proving their worth by constantly hurting and belittling others. It’s been four long years since it happened, and it’s still so fresh. Peyton, Jacob and I had always been the three musketeers.
Peyton, who is way better at forgiveness than I am, takes my hands in hers. “Breathe, hun.”
I nod and take a deep, fueling breath. “I’m okay, and you know what, maybe you’re right. Maybe I should march into that party tonight and apologize. I mean, Landon did invite me, right?”