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I puff out my cheeks, sinking in my chair. “Too excited for the movie. How about we end this and get out of here?”

“Not yet.”

I groan. “We’re wasting time.”

“Okay. Do one math problem and if you get it right, we’ll end the lesson and go to the movie. If you get it wrong, we’ll finish the lesson.”

I sit up straight. “Okay.”

“But it’s a hard one.”

“Bring it.”

She tells me which problem to solve and I get straight to it. She’s right, it’s very hard. But this non bad boy can be determined when he wants to be.

“Done.” I hand it to her.

She checks it over and smiles. “Awesome! You got it right.”

“Did you doubt me?”

“Never in a million years. See, I told you that you’re smart, Damian. You just need to be pushed, and I pushed.”

I snicker. “You’re starting to sound like my mother.”

Her eyes widen. “Heck no! Take it back.”

I chuckle, loving that she’s slowly returning to her old, fun self. “All right. You’re nothing like that terrible woman.”

She just stares at me. I know, I just called my mom terrible. And I know she’s confused. I could try to explain myself, but I don’t want to get into that right now.

We’re both quiet as things suddenly get awkward. I shouldn’t have downed the mood with talks of my mom. Why does she always ruin everything?

“Well, a deal is a deal,” Sophie says after a little while, a grin on her face. “Let’s go watch a movie.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Sophie

Just as I finish changing out of my uniform and into a light blue shirt and jeans, Damian sends me a text.

Damian: Meet me in the parking lot by my bike. It’s parked in its usual place.

Sophie: Are you providing us with means of transportation? Because my car is fixed.

Damian: I thought you and my bike have a good relationship now.

Sophie: Doesn’t mean I want to be roadkill.

Damian: We’ll get there faster on my bike.

I think about arguing further, but it is a school night and we need to be home by curfew. It does make more sense to take his bike, especially if we plan to eat afterward.

Sophie: I’ll see you and your bike shortly.

After texting my friends that I’m going out with Damian—and trying to ignore the way they “ooh” and “ahh” over it—I leave the dorm and head to the parking lot. Why does he insist on parking so far away from the dorms? Is he worried someone will steal his bike or does he purposely want to isolate himself from everyone else?

When I’m a short distance away, I catch him leaning against his bike with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s wearing his usual white shirt, black jeans, and his leather jacket.