“That makes no sense.”
I watch her sigh as she types something into her phone, and I wonder who she’s talking to. The phone lands on the table before her backpack. “It means before my mother dragged me across the country to the middle-of-nowhere Virginia so she could get her life together, I was set to graduate a semester early. But now I’m here, forced to live with my grandmother.” She rolls her eyes and yanks the chair out across from me. “I’m not going to get out of this, am I?”
I stare at the girl across from me.
There’s something about her…
And it has nothing to do with her pure, natural beauty that she clearly doesn’t have to try hard to pull off. In fact, if she gives two shits about what she looked like when she left the house this morning, I’d be surprised.
No.
She’s gone from deer in the headlights to something so familiar, if I weren’t looking at a chick who was so very fucking female in every way I like on the surface, I’d think I was looking into my own soul.
I learned a hard lesson when I was a shit judge of character, but not anymore. And I’m almost positive Carissa Collins loathes the prison walls of high school almost as much as I do.
I don’t move a muscle besides the slight tip of my head. “How bad is your grade?”
“Are you going to tell the entire lacrosse team what a failure I am?”
My expression hardens. “You’re new here, so I’m not going to let that piss me off. But if you knew me, you’d bite your tongue before asking that.”
Her teeth find her lip again.
“Well?” I press.
Her small chest rises and falls dramatically under that damn sweater, but she finally gives it up. “I’m below fifty percent.”
I frown. “Seriously?”
“If you think I’m a lost cause, please, go do your lacrosse sporty things. I’m sure I can figure this out on my own well enough to pass the class.”
I’m not sure what’s gotten into me. I normally don’t give a shit about anything when it comes to anyone, but for some reason, I want to know. “No one’s on schedule to graduate early by failing classes. Stance is a shit teacher, but the class isn’t that hard. What’s the issue?”
“If you knew me,” she tosses my words back, and they land like a sharp jab to my jaw, “you wouldn’t ask that.”
“That’s fair.” I’ll give her that, but what I don’t ask is what I really want to know—what’s made this girl not give a shit about chemistry or graduation. Hell, what I went through made me care even more. “Did moving here fuck up your plans to graduate early?”
She fidgets in her seat. “I have no idea. It hasn’t really been a priority since I got here.”
I nod and lean forward, resting my forearms on the table. “Let’s get your chem grade straightened out, and then you can ask Mrs. Bradley. I’m a big fan of flipping off high school and moving the fuck on. If I can help you do that, then I’ve somehow done my part to make the world a better place.”
That doesn’t win me a smile, but it does soften her frown a touch.
“What do you say, Carissa Collins? You going to let me help you win that Get Out of Jail Free card?”
Her full pink lips roll inward, and I can tell I’ve gained her attention. The only confirmation she gives me is reaching for her backpack and pulling out her notebook and tablet. I nab the notebook and flip it open. Her handwriting is crisp and clean, there’s just not much of it. For some reason, she either doesn’t give a shit, or she’s trying to fuck up her GPA and any chance at graduating early.
I look up and catch her staring.
I hike a brow.
She wraps her sweater around her small frame.
What in the hell is up with this girl?
Carissa
Hypnotic swirls of gold, brown, and flecks of green. They remind me of Virginia in the summer.
I always loved being here when the colors were thriving. We don’t get that in Arizona. Being surrounded by green. The endless number of emerald hues are calming.
Even so, there’s nothing calming about the hazel eyes that have been weighing on me the last hour. I’ve had to work hard not to allow them to hold me hostage and fall into a mesmerized pile of mush that has nothing to do with chemistry.
Not that kind of chemistry anyway.
I’ve tried not to stare. I’ve tried to focus on anything other than those piercing eyes.
When he first walked into the room, I thought they were merely light brown. Then I thought they were golden.
Boy, was I wrong.
When he sat down in front of me, the green flecks glistened in the harsh fluorescent lights. They might as well have handcuffed me to my chair.
Beautiful.
Soulful.
And, still, pensive.
My assumption about Levi Hollingsworth was not wrong. He hasn’t smiled once since he made me his focus. He might be the picture of an all-American-boy-becoming-a-man, but there’s something simmering beneath the surface. There’s not one normal thing about him.
I was right to be nervous about my first ever tutoring session, and it has nothing to do with the fact I should not have gotten myself into this situation to begin with.
It’s not like I would’ve been considered for valedictorian if I weren’t failing chem, but I was closer to first than the last in my class. At this point I don’t care what my grade is at the end of the semester, I just don’t want to take it again or be forced to do summer school. I have more important things to worry about.
And before this afternoon, none of them were making it through a tutoring session with Levi Hollingsworth.
I tried to throw attitude for about two seconds in hopes he’d waltz his very fine ass out of the library, but he made it clear he wasn’t having it. So, here I am, allowing the rumble of his deep voice to pour over me and trying to comprehend what he’s saying.
“Do you understand why you’re failing?”
Because I hate science seems like a lame answer. I take this opportunity to memorize every single green fleck. “Yeah. Though I’m not sure that was ever in question.”
“You can’t memorize this stuff, not when it comes to chem. If you don’t have a grasp on what you learned five chapters ago, you’ll never get this.” He points to my notebook that contains very few notes from the semester. “I’ve made a list of sections for you to reread that should help with the next few tests. Learn the vocab, review the elements and equations. This is topic progression. You’re lost because you can’t apply prior lessons to the current one.”
I can’t remember the last time I sat down to study anything. I’m lucky to be skating by in my other classes. I haven’t truly focused since before the beginning of the end.
Christmas Day.
I toss my pen on the notebook, lean back in my seat, and press my fingers to my temples. “I’ll work on it. I’m sure you have better things to do than hang around school longer than necessary. I mean, you’re about to graduate. Do you even need the volunteer hours?”
“No, I’m already in the lead. I’ve already claimed the title for most volunteer hours.”
I frown. “Then why are you doing this?”