Tutoring the Player (Campus Wallflowers #1)(25)

The guy in the car rolls down the passenger side window. He’s a Valley student. I know because I see him walking toward campus sometimes. “I’m so sorry. They should really put streetlights up. Are you both okay?”

“We’re fine,” Jordan answers, his voice like ice. “Streetlights don’t make you a better driver. Try watching where you’re going.”

The guy pales.

“It was my fault,” I say, but the driver is inching backward while rolling up his window.

Jordan’s steps toward my house get quicker. “He should have been looking where he was going.”

“I should have too.”

He stops in front of my house. Anger radiates off him, but I watch as he reins it in. “You could have been seriously hurt because that asshole wasn’t paying attention.”

I’m at a loss for how to respond. I don’t know if he’s pissed at me or the driver, or both.

“You’re okay?” His voice softens.

“I’m good,” I say.

When we get inside, Violet and Dahlia are in the living room, sitting on the floor with their sketchbooks and iPads laid out in front of them.

“Where’d you two go?” Violet asks.

“Gas station,” I answer.

Jordan lifts the bag. “Anyone need snacks?”

They both shake their heads.

I follow Jordan back up to my room. He sits on the chair in front of my desk, digging through the bag. He frees the Twizzlers, opens it, and pulls out two. He separates the strands of candy and offers one my way.

“No thanks.”

“Live a little.”

“I’ve had licorice, and I don’t like it.”

“Has bad taste in candy. Noted.” He winks and bites off the end of both candies. He’s back to the carefree guy of earlier, and I guess that means he’s forgiven me for nearly getting squashed in front of him.

I point to my laptop. “Maybe it would help if we went over the last quiz?”

He nods.

Over the next half hour, I talk through each question on our last physics quiz. He asks me to explain a few points further, but I don’t really feel like I’m being that helpful.

A text notification on his phone interrupts us on the final question.

He taps out a response before giving me his attention. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I think we’re done with physics unless you have more questions?”

“Oh.” He pockets his phone again. “Uhh. No. I’m good.”

“Do you want to work on statistics?”

“I should probably get out of your hair for tonight.”

I never really cared about being a good tutor, but the thought of him walking out of here no better off than when he came in doesn’t sit well with me. I’m not good at a lot of things, but physics and math I can do.

“What about tomorrow night?” I offer.

He’s quiet a beat as he studies my face. “Glutton for punishment?”

“I don’t feel like I helped at all,” I admit.

“You did,” he says too quickly. “Thank you.”

Downstairs, Dahlia and Violet are busy hunched over their work. I walk Jordan to the door.

“Oh, here.” I pull his sweatshirt over my head and hand it back to him, missing the heat of it instantly.

“Same time and place tomorrow then?” he asks, raising his voice so I can hear him over the noise.

At my nod, he waves and starts off.

“How was it?” Violet pauses her sewing after I shut the front door.

“Fine.” I hurry upstairs.

“We want details tomorrow,” Dahlia yells after me.

On any other night, I might sit downstairs and tell them everything while they work, but I’ve been itching to draw for the last hour.

Something on my bed catches my eye as I pull my chair over to the easel. I walk closer, and a smile tugs at my lips. Fun Dip.





12





DAISY





The next night Jordan appears on my doorstep just like the night before.

“Hey,” he says as he steps inside the house.

Violet and Dahlia were up late, but they finished their projects, and our first floor no longer looks like a fabric shop got hit by a tornado.

I lead him into the kitchen area where we have a small table that we sometimes use for studying. My laptop and notes are already set up. I put more thought into this tutor session than I did all my classes today.

Jordan came prepared today, too, with snacks and his energy drink.

“Thank you for the Fun Dip,” I say as I sit at the table.

“What’d you think?”

“I think I went to bed with a sugar high.”

His deep chuckle fills the room. “Where is everyone tonight?”

“Violet is at the library, I think Jane is upstairs, and Dahlia has a golf tournament this weekend, so she’s gone until Sunday.”

“She’s a golfer?” He bobs his head. “Nice.”

We study for a while. I printed out some old quizzes, and we work through them together. Jordan picks up everything quickly. Even when I move to next week’s chapter, he grasps the concepts and nods along. At some point, he turns on music, claiming he thinks better with background noise.