Page 9 of I Don't Need Your Romance

Ugh, cringe central. Why must he refer to schoolwork as “crap?” Some people like it, you know.

“Sorry,” I say. “I guess my mind wandered. We’re done with the lesson, but I’d like you to do the problems in the back of the chapter. Can you do that right now, please?”

“Can’t I do them tonight and send it to you?”

I give him a face. “Will you actually do them?”

He contemplates his answer, and then says, “Nope.”

“Well, at least you’re honest. Keep your butt planted where it is and do those problems. I’ll release you when you get them right.”

He leans over the table and moves his face closer to mine. “And if I say no?”

I freeze for a moment at his close proximity. Why is he so good-looking? It doesn’t seem fair.

I swallow and say, “I’ll sneak into your dorm room and unleash a swarm of bees on you.” When his face jumps with shock, I chuckle. “Kidding! I’m not going to be a police over you, Damian. You have to be responsible and do the work. If you want to fall behind in your classes and fail, that’s up to you. Just don’t come whining to me when you feel like the dummy of the class.”

His face fills with even more shock. I guess he didn’t expect me to be so blunt?

“Well, good luck finding my dorm.” He pushes his chair back and gets to his feet, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “By the way, it’s obvious my mom owns you. You would do yourself a favor if you quit listening to her.”

He keeps his eyes on me for a moment before marching toward the exit of the library.

“Wait!” I call after him.

When he doesn’t stop moving, I grab my backpack and chase after him. “You don’t have my number.”

“And why would I need your number?”

I grab his arm, forcing him to stop walking. “So you can text me the work.”

He scoffs. “Did you not just see me literally walk away from our session?”

“I’ve been doing this longer than you can imagine, Damian Harrington. I know you’ll send me the work. Maybe not tonight or tomorrow night. But you will.”

He watches me for a moment before closing his hand over mine and prying it off his arm. “The name is DamianLawrence. You should take care to remember that.” He walks a few steps before spinning around to face me. “And don’t think you knowme, Miss Goody-Goody.” He turns around sharply and marches out the door.

“My gosh,” I mutter as I rub my forehead. How on earth am I going to deal with this guy every day? I’ve tried to be positive, but sometimes, having positivity is completely futile.

I’ll do my best to be available to him, but it’s really all up to him. I can’t force someone to let me help them make their life better. If he wants to flunk out of school, that’s his problem. I’m not going to shed any tears over it.

Chapter Six

Damian

The library door slams behind me and I’m about to march to the apartment I share with Mom, but I stop. Slowly, I turn around and peer into the window on the door. If one stands out here, they can see everything that goes on in the library, since the window is a decent size. And one would have a perfect view of his tutor. She’s back to reading. She didn’t flee from here the moment our tutoring session ended.

I’d think any student would run to their dorm to have some freedom, but not Sophie. She’s even more of a goody-goody than I thought. But she seems totally okay with herself, not like she’s trying to fit in like some kids do here. She doesn’t hide who she is—she lets the world embrace her exactly as she is.

As I watch her, I feel bad for the way I treated her. My hand lifts to the door and I want to push it open, head back to her, and apologize for once again being a jerk. But I shake my head, dropping my hand. What’s the point? She doesn’t care about me. She’s just tutoring me because my mom asked her to. I’m just another dumb kid she’ll cross off her list when we’re done. She probably doesn’t even give me a second thought once we’re done with the lessons.

And the worst part is that I hate that she’s obeying my mom like a sheep. She respects my mom, but Beatrice doesn’t deserve respect. Not from her or any of the kids here. And certainly not from me.

I hope my tutor one day sees my mom for the person that she is. For now, I’ll tolerate this whole tutor thing because I have to.

I make my way to the apartment, which is empty, of course. Mom is probably still at the school office, taking care of her first and only love.

Plopping down on my bed, I stare at the ceiling. I still can’t get those blue eyes of my tutor out of my head. She wasn’t offended when I gave her attitude. She was surprised in the beginning, but then she gave it to me. Honestly, I didn’t think the goody-goody could stand up for herself. But she did. It was pretty awesome.