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“So you get it now?” Hannah asked.

"I think so," Dallas told her as he leaned in closer to scrutinize the textbook. "Just give me a second to go over it on my own."

They were sitting at a small table at the Green Room Café on the UCI campus, where, for the last five minutes, she’d been reviewing what he missed in class the other day. He was a quick learner, and it had taken only half of the ten minutes she’d promised to give him to understand the concepts.

She stayed quiet while he looked over the book and the notes he’d taken while she was explaining things. As he studied the material, she studied him. Unlike yesterday, when he’d shown up to class in a t-shirt and jeans, today he was wearing a collared shirt and casual slacks. It was almost like he’d dressed up for the occasion. Or at least dressed up as much as a college sophomore does.

His dark wavy black hair was combed properly, and he’d shaved since yesterday. She’d also noticed that he seemed a little more nervous than he’d been then. Initially, she thought it was because he was worried he wouldn't understand the material and would look stupid. But that clearly wasn't the case. He got it just fine, which made her think it was something else.

When she’d first arrived at the table at 11:45, his cheeks had gotten a little pink. The same thing had happened again when she told him he’d nailed a concept. Was he just shy or was it something about her that had him fumbling a bit? Despite her reservations, she had to acknowledge that it was charming.

And she did have reservations. Which is why she’d spent a decent chunk of yesterday afternoon doing a background search on Dallas Henry. After her bad experience with the student who claimed to need her help and then tried to assault her in a library study room, no one got the benefit of the doubt anymore.

Having said that, while the guy wasn’t squeaky clean, he wasn’t a felon either. Dallas Henry had grown up in Bakersfield, in Central California. That’s where he’d gone to community college for the last year and a half, getting impeccable grades, before transferring to UC Irvine for the spring quarter.

Prior to that, in high school, he had a mixed record. Hannah knew that because she’d hacked into the school’s database and accessed everything in his student record. His first few years were mediocre, and he’d had a few disciplinary issues, specifically a couple of fights with other students and an allegation of once being high on campus, although that was never proven.

His problems weren’t hugely shocking once she uncovered the timing of his issues. They correlated closely to his parents’ divorce and his father’s subsequent death in a car accident, one in which he was apparently drunk. That sequence of events would have upended anyone’s equilibrium.

He appeared to right the academic ship around in the middle of his junior year, getting straight A's from that point forward. But it was apparently too little too late to get him into a top-tier school right off the bat, which explained going the community college route to start off. She was curious to ask him what had turned everything around for him, but that would have obviously revealed that she'd been checking up on him. Couldn't have that.

She also noted that he came from a working-class family. His father, before his death, was an electrician, and his mother was a teller at a local bank. When she remarried, it was to the bank manager. Dallas had worked multiple retail jobs throughout high school and was currently in the work-study program at UCI, where he was a part-time staffer in the main library.

Other than the two fights and the scuttled weed allegation, he seemed pretty clean-cut. But clean cut didn't mean safe, which is why she'd also scoured his social media presence for anything alarming. He didn't have much of one, which she found slightly odd for someone his age. Then again, she was only a year younger than him, and she kept a low profile online too.

Of course, in her case, it was because she'd had multiple interactions with stalkers and murderers. He just seemed uninterested. Maybe the personal tragedies he'd faced in his own life had diminished his interest in exploring online drama.

Because she wasn’t about to take any chances, she was also able to access the portal for his health records. Sometimes her time working for Kat’s detective agency really paid off. In this case, it didn’t show much.

He had an emergency inhaler for mild asthma, and he’d undergone an emergency appendectomy when he was fourteen. Regarding her primary concern, that he might have had treatment for some mental health issue, his file was clean. She would still proceed with caution, but he’d at least passed her initial test for casual personal interaction.

“What?” he asked.

“Huh?” she replied, confused.

“You’ve kind of been staring at me for the last twenty seconds,” he told her. “Do I have something on my face?”

“Oh, no, sorry,” she said, feeling her own cheeks turn slightly pink. “I was just lost in thought. I didn’t realize I was staring.”

“Uh huh,” he replied, seemingly unconvinced. “So I think I’m going to be okay with this material now. Thanks for helping me out.”

“I don’t think you really needed all that much help, to be honest.”

"Maybe it seems that way now," he said. "But I wasn't sure, and it's always nice to get a sanity check, you know?"

“I do like the occasional sanity check,” she agreed, though she meant something very different than him. “And I’m glad we could knock this out quick because I’m supposed to meet up with my friend in a minute.”

“Is that your way of telling me that it’s time to clear out?” he asked.

“Kind of,” she admitted. “But I didn’t want to be outright rude.”

“I wouldn’t call it rude,” he said with a grin as he packed up his stuff, “just blunt bordering on harsh.”

“Really?” she asked, now genuinely embarrassed.

“Nah, I’m just teasing,” he said, standing up and throwing his backpack over his shoulder. “I’ll get out of your hair now. Thanks for taking the time.”

“That’s okay.”

“Speaking of time,” he said, looking aggressively at the floor instead of her,” when you have a little more of it, would you like to get some coffee with me?”

And there it was. She'd suspected this might be coming but didn't want to be presumptuous. He was cute, and she was flattered. But it wasn't going to happen. She tried to be a little more diplomatic with this response than the last one.

“That’s very sweet,” she said, “but I’m not really getting coffee with people right now. I’m taking some Hannah time.”

“Got it,” he said, sounding a little disappointed but not hurt. “Well, thanks again for the help. And if you ever decide you’re back in the market for shared caffeine experiences, let me know.”

“I will,” she told him, before adding, “see you in class.”

“For sure,” he replied and headed off. As Hannah watched him go, she silently appreciated how the interaction, which could have gotten awkward, ended without drama. That was a point in his favor. Not that she was keeping score.

He left the café, and her eyes fell on the table near the door. To her surprise, Finn was sitting at it, glaring at her. He got up and walked over, his eyes stormy and his brow furrowed.

“Everything okay, Finn?” she asked, sensing that the very drama she’d just avoided might now be headed her way.

"Everything's fine," he said, though it clearly wasn't. "I was just coming in for our Baby Psych meetup when I saw that you were otherwise engaged. So not wanting to disturb you, I just decided to wait over there until you were done."

“You weren’t disturbing me,” she said, not going to be made to feel guilty. “Our meeting was scheduled for noon and it’s currently 11:56 so you’re actually early.”

“Well, I’m glad I didn’t cause a conflict,” he said, either not knowing or not caring that he sounded like a pouty child.

“Finn, I have a class in about a half hour,” she said wearily. “Do you want help with your psychology class or not?”

“I do,” he said, sitting down and pulling out his textbook. But even as he did that, she could tell that he wasn’t letting go of his agitation. After a few seconds, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. “You know that guy is new here and that no one really knows him.”

“Have you been checking up on the random dude from my Brain Dysfunction and Repair class?” she asked, equal parts amused and annoyed.

“I just don’t want you to get blind-sided again,” he told her.

“After having known me for seven months now, what gave you the impression that I can’t take care of myself?”

“Nothing, obviously,” he said carefully at the rebuke, “I just worry.”

She put both her palms flat on the table to emphasize her forthcoming point.

“Look, if I start hanging out with Dallas, I’ll do the research on him to make sure he’s not a problem, but whatever I do or don’t do, it’s not your concern.”

She felt no obligation to tell Finn that she’d already done a ton of research. It wasn’t his business.

“You can’t control how I feel,” he said. “If I’m concerned, then I’m concerned.”

“You can feel however you want,” she replied, “but sharing that feeling with me is a different story. This is the second time in as many days that I’m having to remind you that we agreed to just be friends for now. Are you able to handle that or not?”

“I was just looking out for you,” he grumbled under his breath.

“I don’t need a caretaker, Finn,” she reiterated. “Now are you going to be able to get past this?”

“I could ask you the same question,” he shot back.

“What do you mean?”

“Are you ever going to get past the stuff that came between us?”

Hannah sighed.

“By ‘stuff,’ do you mean how we were looking for a missing pledge from your fraternity and when I wanted to involve the authorities, you suddenly became more concerned for your frat’s reputation than your pledge’s welfare? Is that the ‘stuff’ you’re referring to? Because if it is, then my honest answer is that I’m still working through how I feel about all that.”

“I’ve apologized for it a million times,” he said. “It wasn’t what I was intending to do.”

“You apologizing doesn’t mean I’m going to magically view you the way I did before that happened. It takes time. And you’re not giving me any. Here’s a little tip: the behavior that you’re exhibiting right now is counterproductive. Now I’ve agreed to help with your class. For the last time, do you want that help or not?”

He looked at her, and she could tell that he was actually weighing his answer to that question. She'd assumed it would be a default "yes." After all, he currently had a "C" in the class, which was supposed to be an easy "A" for non-majors. Over the course of the next five seconds, his expression morphed from pouty to agitated to seething. He stood up.

“I’ll figure it out on my own,” he said.

She shook her head in disappointment.

“This isn’t a good look for you, Finn.”

“You’re making a mistake with this guy,” he scolded. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Then, to make his point, he kicked the leg of the table before storming off. Hannah watched him march out of the café. She’d been slightly surprised by his response but after that wore off, she noted that he’d proven her point—clean cut guys could be jerks.

And sometimes far worse.