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The side of his lips quirked up. “I have my ways.”
I should’ve been mad; I should’ve told him to mind his own business.
I really should have.
But then I had a brief moment of realization – he was protecting me. Even though I told him numerous times that I didn’t want him to. It was a very different Maddox, from the one who was jerk to me and it was shocking to the say the least. I was curious how far he’d go… to be my friend.
The moment Maddox and I did that pinky swear outside of my Gran’s grocery store, it became obvious that my business was his and his was mine. It was an unspoken understanding between us.
We both shared a smile.
And that was it.
The beginning of something Maddox and I weren’t ready for.
That day, we somehow sealed our friendship.
Friends?
Yeah, friends.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Maddox
Three weeks later
Lila slammed her thick textbook closed and growled low in her throat. If she thought she was being intimidating, she was highly mistaken. That was a kitten growl, cute and harmless.
“You’re distracting me. Stop!” she said through clenched teeth, keeping her voice low since we were both huddled in a corner of the library.
“What am I doing?” I feigned innocence because, seriously, my favorite pastime was annoying her.
She was studying for our upcoming calculus test while I was watching… porn. Okay, fine. Not exactly porn. But Tumblr was nasty, and I was making a habit of showing Lila all the videos I came across. Miss Garcia didn’t find that amusing, but it was hilarious to me, so she was growling and hissing. Like I said, a kitten.
I didn’t know if I had a semi-boner because of the videos I was watching or because Lila was sitting across me. Probably a bit of both.
“Do you realize you’re the most frustrating person I’ve ever met in my life?” she finally snapped. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing.
I’d give her credit, though, for lasting three weeks as my friend.
I thought she would break, but no, Lila was fierce, something I greatly admired about her.
She plugged her earphones in and went back to her textbook. Her notebook was filled with equations as she did the practice questions over and over again. Over the past few weeks, I’ve learned a few things about Lila:
She was a perfectionist.
She wanted to get into Harvard and was still waiting on her confirmation letter to come through. Every day, she grew more anxious, although she tried hard to hide it.
Since I got a football scholarship, I already had an early acceptance to Harvard.
She loved her grandparents dearly.
She was competitive as fuck.
Two minutes later, Lila gave up. She snatched her earphones out and glared at me. I tried to wipe the grin off my face, but damn it, it was hard when she was being so… cute.
“I know you’re getting into Harvard with a football scholarship but don’t your marks need to be just as good, or you could lose your scholarship?”
I swiped out of Tumblr as she ranted. My textbook and notebook laid in front me, untouched. “Yeah.”
“Then, why are you not taking any of your classes seriously?”
Ah, so she was on my case. I refrained from rolling my eyes and shrugged instead. “I don’t care.”
“So, you’re okay with not playing football after high school and losing your scholarship?”
That made me pause.
I didn’t care about school or Harvard… but football was my fucking kryptonite. Similar to how Lila was my favorite drug of choice, sweet and so fucking addictive.
I was MC–Maddox Coulter, Berkshire’s reckless quarterback and casanova.
But there was just something about Lila that kept me…grounded. It wasn’t exactly a bad thing but it wasn’t a good thing either. I didn’t like how she could get under my skin, and I didn’t like how she could read me so easily. It made me feel… weak, like that time in the closet. She saw everything I didn’t want anyone to see. And even now, she could see through me.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m getting into Harvard either way.”
“Because your parents are going to buy your way into Harvard. Gotcha.”
My head snapped up at the tone of her voice. She sounded… disappointed. In me.
My parents were on the Board of Directors for Harvard. It didn’t matter if my marks weren’t good, I wasn’t going to lose my scholarship. They’d make sure of it. After all, that was all they ever did for me. Pay my way through Berkshire, throw a cheque at me, give me a fancy car for my birthday although they were never actually present on the day… it was all ever materialistic to them. Harvard was no different. Maybe paying for me to get in Harvard would actually remind them they did in fact have a son.
“You’re getting into Harvard because of your parents.” She paused, giving me a look as she studied me. “How about for once in your life, you don’t depend on your parents’ money and reputation. Why don’t you do it for you? On your own. Through your own hard work and failures… and success on your own merits.”
