- Home
- Maggie Dallen
The Perfect League (Briarwood High Book 3) Page 4
The Perfect League (Briarwood High Book 3) Read online
Page 4
Those words hit me like a punch in the gut. Oh, of course. Just like she hadn’t wanted anyone to see us talking together in the hallway. I shook my head. That didn’t make sense. “If you don’t want anyone knowing about us—” Ah hell, that sounded bad. Like I thought there was an us or something. “If you don’t want anyone knowing you’re here with me, why not go to someone else for help.”
She widened her eyes even further. “Oh, no! I didn’t mean it like that.” Her cheeks turned scarlet and she shook her head so quickly her ponytail whipped back and forth. “I didn’t mean I don’t want people knowing about you, I meant, I don’t want people knowing I need to be tutored.”
“Why not?” I shot back.
“Because it’s humiliating.” She’d said it quickly and her response shocked me.
“Why?” I asked, feeling like a broken record. “I mean, lots of kids in our class need tutoring.”
She chewed on her lower lip. “Yeah, but they’re probably not all in danger of repeating junior year.”
The air left my lungs and all my earlier self-righteous anger evaporated. Oh crap. She looked like she might cry again. I tapped my fingers on the table. What the hell was I supposed to say to that?
She looked up toward the ceiling and blinked rapidly. I knew that look—it was the same move my mom did when she was trying desperately not to cry. It was the same thing Juliette had done by the lockers when that asshat Matthew had shown up.
Oh hell. I looked around the dining room as if help might suddenly arrive. Maybe Gina would come bounding in with some ridiculous story and help ease this awkward tension.
I stared at the doorway willing her to come.
It did not work. Gina and I would seriously have to work on our ESP.
“Look, I’ll help you,” I finally said, my voice sounding just as desperate as hers had. “Just…please, don’t cry again.”
She dropped her gaze from the ceiling and met mine. Her astonishment was quickly replaced by laughter. She laughed so hard that a tear slipped down her cheek. I found myself fighting a smile. “What’s so funny?”
She wiped the tear away and her laughter subsided. “I’m sorry it’s just…please, don’t cry again.” She did a spot-on imitation of my desperate plea that had me laughing despite myself. I guess I had sounded a little melodramatic.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who panics when a girl starts to cry,” she teased.
She teased.
She teased me.
This was a rarity in my life and I wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it. Most girls—especially nice girls like Juliette—were too scared of me to mock me to my face, even if it was good-natured.
“I didn’t panic.” I feigned disgust at the thought, because I clearly had panicked.
“Uh huh.” She laughed. “Whatever you say.” When she fully stopped laughing she took a deep breath and her tone dropped the teasing tone. “Sorry for almost losing it…again. I’m just really stressed because I’m not at all sure that I can get my grades up in time and if I don’t—”
“Hey,” I interjected, leaning forward again so she was forced to look at me. “No panicking, all right? For either of us. You’ve got this. I promise.”
I placed a hand over hers. I’d just meant to comfort her but she jerked back so quickly I pulled back just as fast. I tried to pretend that her rejection didn’t sting. I mean, girls were scared of me. Hell, guys were scared of me too, for the most part. I was used to it. It was the way I liked it. It meant people kept their distance.
She smiled at me, but it looked forced. “So where do we start?”
“You tell me,” I said, pointing to the books. “What’s the first priority here?”
She pushed a Spanish textbook toward me. “I have a test next week and if I fail I’m toast.”
I flipped it open to the page she’d marked. “Then I guess we start with Spanish.”
Under her watchful gaze I scanned the chapter. This would be easy. It was all about conjugating irregular verbs. “No problem.” I looked up and gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile.
Smiling was rare for me and reassuring smiles were an unknown entity in my world.
Her answering smile was hesitant. She definitely did not share my confidence.
“It’s just memorization,” I said.
She nodded, but then she said, “I suck at memorizing.”
I stared at her. “No, you don’t.”
She blinked. “How would you know?”
Was she serious? “Because I know you’re a star basketball player, which means you need to memorize plays and all that. Not to mention, you know all the players’ names on Gina’s team—I don’t even know them and Gina talks about them constantly. And you—”
“Okay, I get it,” she interrupted with a laugh. “I guess I can memorize some stuff.”
“And I bet you anything you know all the words to your favorite songs, am I right?”
She gave an exasperated sigh, but she nodded. “Of course. But that’s different.” She scowled at the textbook in my hands as if it had just insulted her. “I can’t memorize by reading stuff. I don’t know why, it’s just like—” She made a funny waving gesture around her head. “It shuts off. My brain just tunes out. The harder I try to concentrate on the words, the more if feels like I’m losing my mind.”
She’d gotten all worked up while talking and now she glanced up at me from beneath her lashes as she dropped her hand in her lap and started nibbling on her lip again.
I realized several things in that moment. She was embarrassed by this admission—that was easy to see. I was fairly certain she’d never told anyone that stuff before—or at least she hadn’t told many people. And also, if she kept biting her lip like that there was no way I was going to be able to resist the temptation to kiss her.
I shook off that thought and focused on what she’d said. “Maybe you just need to learn the verbs in a different way.”
She pulled her brows together in a frown. “What other way?”
An idea occurred to me. I’d used this trick to help Gina when she was having a hard time memorizing the times table. It might work, or it might not. It couldn’t hurt to try, at least.
“Do you trust me?”
She scrunched her nose up and tilted her head as if giving it serious thought. “Not really.”
That shocked a laugh out of me. “Well, try.”
She shrugged as she gave me a smile that made my heart lurch. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice.”
I arched my brows. “Your faith in me is overwhelming.”
Her answering laugh was soft and sweet, and I knew right then and there that I needed to hear it again.
Preferably every day.
Chapter Five
Juliette
Connor said to trust him and I tried. I really tried. But my whole future was at stake here and as surprisingly nice as he’d been about my mini-meltdowns, I still didn’t know him very well. Definitely not well enough to blindly trust that he would solve all my problems.
We’d spent the rest of my tutoring hour going over my classes and where I was in them so Connor could get a grasp of just how much work he had ahead of him.
Part of me felt a little sorry for him. It was totally obvious that I’d surprised the hell out of him by just how poorly I was doing and in how many classes.
But he’d seemed up to the challenge. Or at least, he acted like he knew what he was doing. Right about now, I’d happily accept even fake confidence. When I’d left his house my stress had abated a ton. It had been nice to confide in someone and feel like I finally had someone in my corner.
Even if he failed, which would mean that I would literally fail—it was still nice to feel like someone else had something at stake. That maybe I wasn’t entirely alone in this awful situation.
It was a Friday, so we didn’t have practice, which meant I could go home at a normal time for once. I had a big date with my Spanis
h textbook. Fun times.
With all the game planning Connor and I had done, we’d never even opened the Spanish textbook. We had another tutoring session scheduled for Monday, but that would be too late.
A familiar heavy feeling settled over me. What was the point? There would never be enough time. I’d spent countless hours trying to memorize the stupid grammar rules for the last stupid test, and look how that had turned out.
I was still wallowing in self-pity when I headed out the front door, along with Aubrey and two other girls from the team. They were talking about the party they were going to this weekend. A party that I’d bailed on so I could study.
This conversation was definitely adding to my self-pity.
“Holy crap.” Aubrey whispered the words.
I didn’t even have to look this time. I now knew that Aubrey whispered and apparently lost her ability to form coherent sentences around one person.
Sure enough when I followed her gaze I saw Connor leaning against my car, looking for all the world like he had nothing better to do than just lounge around waiting for me.
With his hair falling into his face and his black T-shirt showing off those bulging biceps and the tattoos that covered them, he looked dangerous.
He also looked…hot.
Nope. Do not go there. He was my tutor, for God’s sakes.
Besides, even if I was attracted to him—which, let’s face it—I totally was, there was still a crucial factor that could not be ignored. I was very obviously not his type. I mean, I’d never seen him with any girls, but still. We were too different. And on top of that, I wasn’t in the market to date. I had too much on my plate, what with leading a team to states and, oh yeah—trying not to fail out of school in the process.
Boys could wait until college.
Assuming I got into college.
“What is he doing?” Aubrey whispered.
I wasn’t sure why she was whispering since he was still too far to hear us.
“Is he waiting for you?” Stephanie asked.
I shrugged. Dammit, why hadn’t I thought of a good reason for us to be talking. I couldn’t use the Spanish notes excuse again because Stephanie was in Spanish with me. That could lead to a whole slew of questions I didn’t want to answer.
So I just stuck with the shrug and kept my gaze on Connor, hoping against hope that my friends would bail on me before I reached my car.
They did not. Either their cars were parked further down the lot or, more likely, they were too curious to see why Connor was waiting for me.
My mouth grew dry with nerves the closer we got. Partly because I had no idea how to explain this to the girls, but partly because…
He looked up and his gaze met mine.
Yeah, partly because of that. He had this way of looking at me that made me nervous. I wasn’t scared of him—it wasn’t anything like that. By the time I’d left his house last night I’d realized that Gina had been right. Behind that whole tough guy exterior, he was actually kind of…nice.
But he had this way of looking at me that was unnerving. It was like he saw everything. Maybe that was just my insecurities talking. After all, he was the only student at Briarwood who knew my deep dark secret. Or maybe it was more than that. I’d felt that way even before I’d told him the truth.
Was it my imagination or was everyone in the parking lot watching us? I glanced around quickly. Nope. Not my imagination. Matthew and some of his friends were hovering around a car a few spaces down from mine watching me and my teammates approach. I saw them glance between us and Connor and I knew what was going to happen even before it happened.
Matthew broke away from the others and started heading toward my car.
Lovely. In a matter of seconds, my next meeting with my tutor would be witnessed by Matthew, Aubrey, Stephanie, and half the population of Briarwood High.
Panic had my blood pumping like I’d just run five miles as the great collision occurred. Matthew reached Connor just as I did, with my girls right behind me.
I gave Connor a smile but he was too busy glowering at Matthew, who was frowning at me.
“Is this guy bothering you?” Matthew asked.
God save me from well-intentioned macho guys like Matthew. I held back a sigh as I shook my head. “No, Connor and I were just, um…” I glanced over at Connor as I tried to come up with a lie.
It was no use. I wasn’t a good liar to begin with. Humiliation at what I was about to do had my skin burning. In a matter of seconds, everyone would know.
I wouldn’t tell them everything. I glanced over at Aubrey who was staring at me expectantly along with everyone else waiting for me to finish that sentence. They didn’t need to know how badly I was flunking. I’d just say he was helping me with one class and then—
“She’s my tutor.”
I whipped my head around to stare at Connor in shock, dimly aware that the others had turned to face him as well.
I was guessing the others were shocked to hear his voice—I’d bet money my girlfriends were trying not to swoon over that deep sexy growl. I knew I was and I’d kind of gotten used to it.
I was probably the only one staring in shock because of the actual words that came out of his mouth. Why had he lied?
For me?
I gave him a look that was all confusion and questions, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was still glaring at Matthew.
Matthew, who’d lost that crazy macho look I hated so much. It was like I could see his testosterone levels drop down to normal now that he had an explanation. Aubrey and the others seemed to deflate a bit too, like they were disappointed or something.
They’d probably wanted to see a fight. People were so weird sometimes.
And just like that the tension and suspense that had been building up was gone. Life had gone back to boring and ho hum now that Connor had provided a logical explanation.
Except that it wasn’t logical if anyone knew the truth about me.
“That’s nice of you,” Matthew said to me, still ignoring Connor’s existence.
Matthew’s smile was all sweet and…proud. Ew. As if I didn’t feel bad enough that we were lying, and that Connor had made me look like I wasn’t a dumbass.
I willed Matthew to go away. I willed all of them to leave me alone with Connor so I could talk to him about the upcoming test. I needed a cram session and I needed it stat.
Also, I needed to know why he’d done it. Why on earth had he lied for me?
Matthew took a step closer so Connor was out of his line of vision and he was smiling down at me, completely ignoring the large tattooed guy standing right next to us. “I didn’t know you did charity work on top of all your other commitments,” he said. “That’s really cool of you.”
My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I could feel Connor’s eyes on us. There was no way he hadn’t heard that statement loud and clear. My stomach was flooded with shame, on his behalf and on mine for not speaking the truth. But more than all of that I was pissed. I’d always thought of Matthew as a nice guy, but he was being rude. Beyond rude. He was being mean.
“It’s not charity work,” I snapped. I opened my mouth to continue, but wasn’t sure what to say that wouldn’t completely negate the lie that Connor had just told.
Matthew widened his eyes in surprise and held his hands up in surrender as he backed away. But he was laughing like we were in on some sort of joke together. “No worries, Jules, I’ll let you get back to your, uh—”his laughing eyes darted over to Connor and back to me—“your project.”
The way he said “project” was no better than “charity work.” He somehow made it sound like I was St. Juliette, patron saint of the mentally disabled.
Aubrey and the others were walking away with Matthew, joining up with his group of friends and already talking about something else. The moment was over and I was left there with my mouth partially open, trying to come up with some sort of comeback.
I sucked at comebacks at the best of time
s, and right now my head was still spinning from the fact that Connor had lied.
For me.
I spun around to face him, ready for a judgmental glare. I deserved no less. But he wasn’t glaring, not more than usual, at least.
“I’m so sorry about that,” I said.
He shrugged. “Not your fault your friend’s a douche.”
He’s not my friend. I couldn’t say that. It wasn’t really true—we hung out in the same group, everyone knew that. Besides, it wasn’t just Matthew I was apologizing for. “Thank you for saying—”
“Don’t worry about it.” He never moved but he was looking anywhere but at me.
“You didn’t have to—”
“I know.”
“But now everyone will think—”
“I don’t care.” He looked at me and there was no judgment in his glare. In fact, he wasn’t even glaring, which was…unusual. He still wore his signature broody look, but his gaze was soft. Kind.
Crap, now I really felt like a jackass. He might not have been judging me, but he should have been. I was judging myself. Because the truth of the matter was, he’d lied because he didn’t care what these people thought.
And I did.
But it wasn’t that simple. I tried to explain. “It’s just that if the team knew and—”
“I get it.” He cut me off once more and this time I let out a huff of air in frustration.
“Can I please finish a thought?”
He grinned. The smile was so quick, so sudden, so—so freakin’ sexy—I totally forgot what I’d been trying to say.
All I could think was—holy hell, that smile. What a great smile. It was all crinkling eyes and full lips and warm brown eyes.
And I was staring.
Like a creeper.
He pushed himself away from the car so he was standing straight and he was so close I could smell his soap. He smelled…warm. Could people smell warm? Probably not. But he did, he smelled cozy and comfortable and like maybe someone could just snuggle up against him and take a nap.
The thought was sheer lunacy, of course, since there was nothing snuggly and teddy bear-like about those muscles, those tattoos, that brooding glare.