Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
I blink hard as my vision blurs for a moment. I’m supposed to be his tutor? Like, what the hell is going on? I scribble down a response.
I don’t know how the hell you pull these things off. That’s insane. No college would EVER go for that.
He just grins at me again before jotting something down.
Until now. It would seem they’re actively going for it
I blow out a breath.
I truly can’t believe you and how you manage these things. You don’t even know how to use commas.
It’s a genetic gift Jules. I can’t explain it any other way. As for the commas you can teach me that too.
I grab his paper and add them where they’re needed in that very statement, circling for dramatic effect.
Which only makes Ace’s nearly permanent grin grow more.
See? You’re already teaching me things. This is going to work out great.
He turns to face the front again, and I do my best to shift my focus to my new teacher and the board as well. Evidently, I’m in charge of two people’s college fates now, whether I like it or not.
The teacher continues his first day spiel, assigning us a practice sheet and several pages in the textbook to read before next class so we’re not going into the lesson blind, and I jot the information down in my planner on autopilot.
For Ace’s part, he takes active notes—not that I can make any sense of them—and focuses hard on Professor Emmsy’s every word, but by the time he dismisses class fifty minutes later—declaring his congratulations that the seats we’ve picked today will be our official seats for the rest of the semester—I feel like my skin is crawling.
I’m confused. I’m a little angry. And I don’t understand what the hell is happening at all.
Ace hands me my pen when I accidentally knock it on the floor and packs up his own belongings, and then he stands in expectation, waiting to walk me out of class. Drew packs up his own stuff, too, and heads toward us, and truth be told, I feel a little like I might explode.
I take a deep breath, willing myself to maintain some semblance of decorum since our professor still lingers at the front of the room, but I can’t deny that my voice is cutting as I ask, “Why didn’t you check with me before signing me up to be your tutor, Ace?”
He jerks back at the tone, and I suck my lips into my mouth before adding, “I just…I already have a full schedule on my plate, and now I’m going to be helping you with this class too.”
“I know,” he apologizes softly. “And I should have asked. But I’m going to pull my weight, I swear. I’m going to pull my weight in all our classes.”
“What do you mean, all our classes?”
“Ace,” Drew greets, finally making it over to us against the stream of students leaving the room. “Surprised to see you here.”
“Oh hey, man.” Ace smiles at him, clapping a hand on his back. “Yeah, I’m changing it up this year. Focusing harder, you know?”
“Mm-hmm,” Drew hums, handing me my coffee and wincing as he checks his watch. “I’m sorry I have to run, but I’ve got physics to get to. It starts in five minutes, and I have to make it all the way over to Vincent Hall. Everyone says Grudeau is a hard-ass about being on time.”
Both Drew and I are taking physics this semester, but we didn’t end up in the same class.
“Of course. I’ll text you later.”
“Yeah,” Drew agrees. “Maybe I can come by tonight.” My cheeks feel hot. I’m annoyed at Ace; I’m feeling a strange jealousy vibe coming from Drew. It’s all too much.
I nod. It’s all I can manage.
We’re not officially a couple, but I do like spending time with him. But I’ve explained the situation with Ace before, and he needs to trust me too.
I don’t know. I’m just…caught off guard. And overwhelmed.
Drew leans down and kisses my cheek before taking off for the back of the classroom on fast feet, glancing over his shoulder at Ace and me when he gets to the door. I sigh, slinging my bag up on my shoulder and willing myself to get over this in less than fifteen minutes. I mean, I’m going to get over it anyway; I may as well get over it now before it stresses me out. Right?
“Do you not have class this hour?” I ask Ace as he puts on his own backpack, letting me go up the aisle first and following behind me. He’s quiet for much longer than he’s ever quiet, so I stop dead in my tracks and turn to face him, his earlier words of all our classes hitting me again like a Mack truck.