That was a lie. He did. But he wasn’t thinking sick thoughts. Well . . . depended on one’s definition of sick he supposed. “Why would y-you care if I look at her? Threatened?”
Quincy snorted, and Doug gave Kaden a curled-lip once-over. “By a fucking fag with long hair and thrift store clothes? Hardly.”
Kaden smirked. “Well, if I’m a f-f-fag, then you have nothing to worry about. And maybe I’m l-l-looking at her because I feel bad for her. She has to deal with your sorry ass.”
With that, Kaden shoved past Quincy and made his way through the group. If they were smart, they’d let him go. Because he worked hard to stay out of trouble. Dealing with his stepdad any time he stepped out of line was more trouble than it was worth. But if those pricks laid their hands on him, he’d fight back. And though he probably wouldn’t win since he didn’t push weights every afternoon like those guys, he was feeling mean enough to fight dirty and inflict some damage before they took him down. Part of him hoped they’d try.
He walked to the main doors without looking back. No one came after him.
Maybe those douchebags had a few brain cells left after all.
Tessa looked toward the far end of the library then back down to the note Mrs. Rombach had given her after Tessa had earned her third D in English. “You’ve gotta be freaking kidding me.”
“Can I help you find something, Tessa?”
Tessa turned to find the librarian, Ms. Solis, sending her a pleasant smile from behind her fortress of a desk. “Um, Mrs. Rombach wants me to sign up for tutoring in English.”
The woman’s smile turned a tad sympathetic—oh my, the poor cheerleader who got the looks but not the brains. That’s what she was probably thinking. Tessa had seen that look before. She wanted to correct her, wanted to tell the librarian that she had As in math. But all this poetry and Shakespeare crap just didn’t make sense. How was she supposed to understand stories in a language that didn’t even resemble her version of English?
“She’s matched you up with Kaden Fowler, dear,” Ms. Solis said, pointing toward the tutoring room in the back of the library. The walls of the room were clear glass and soundproof, so there was no mistaking the shaggy blond head bent over a book. “And don’t worry. I know he’s a little quiet, but that Kaden is sharp as a tack. Goes through at least three books on his own a week.”
Tessa forced her face to form some version of a smile. “Is there someone else available? I mean, not that I doubt Kaden’s skills or whatever, but I don’t think he likes me very much.”
“I’m sure that’s not the case,” she said, a little glint in her dark eyes. “Just give it a chance. If you feel he’s not the right tutor for you, you can talk to Mrs. Rombach.”
Well, crap. Mrs. Rombach was not her biggest fan. She had a feeling the woman had some sort of vendetta against the cheer squad and would simply fail her if she complained about which tutor she’d been assigned. Plus, if word got back to her foster parents that she w
as making waves, everything could go to hell. The Ds were going to be hard enough to explain.
With a heavy sigh, Tessa hefted her schoolbag higher on her shoulder and headed toward the back, determined not to make this a big deal. She tapped on the door before swinging it open, and Kaden lifted his head. The oh-shit expression on his face probably mirrored the one she’d worn when she’d walked into the library a few minutes ago.
“Uh, c-c-can I help you with something?”
She winced inwardly at his slight stutter, remembering how horrible Doug and Quincy had teased him a few days ago at lunch. Kaden hadn’t helped his situation, though, when he’d insulted Doug in front of the group. Her boyfriend was mostly harmless. Quincy usually was the one who got Doug pulled into stupid crap. But Doug wasn’t going to let someone like Kaden call him sorry and let it go. And he’d certainly shit a biscuit if he knew she was spending time with the enemy.
Which is why she needed to come up with a plan. Fast.
“Okay, so, yeah, I need your help.” She set her bag on the table and glanced over her shoulder. Doug would be at football practice by now, but that didn’t mean one of their other friends wouldn’t wander into the library for something. A lot of the after-school clubs met in here.
“With?” Kaden prompted.
She pulled out her latest essay test and flattened it on the table. “I’m failing English, and you’re my new tutor.”
“Y-y-you’re the girl who needs help in English?” He scraped a hand through his too-long hair, cursing under his breath.
“Yes. Me. And look, I know you don’t like me. And I’m really sorry for the other day. Those guys can be jerks sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
“It’s mostly Quincy,” she said, peeking over her shoulder again.
“Sure it is.” He nodded toward the glass partition with a smirk. “What are you looking for? Afraid someone will see you in here with the s-s-sick fuck?”
She gave a dramatic sigh and sank into a chair. This was not going at all how she’d planned. She hoped she could smile and sweetness her way through this. She wasn’t unaware of the effect she had on guys. God hadn’t given her much. Useless mother. Dead father. A crapton of foster homes. And not enough skills to know what the hell Hamlet was about. But he had given her a way with boys.
Unfortunately, this boy seemed immune, so she was going to have to give it to him straight.
“Listen, Kaden. Hate me all you want, but they pay you to tutor and right now, I’m the girl who needs help. But I don’t want to cause crap for either of us.”