Oli flinched. Everyone majoring in business knew Weeman. He’d been voted the shittiest prof at NGU for the third year in a row, and the first one was his first year, too. He hadn’t wasted time making sure everyone hated him.
“I don’t have him this semester, thank God.” His voice sounded strained, and I had a feeling Weeman had picked on him, which made sense. Weeman loved going for the students who wouldn’t speak up. “But I had him last year. He was an asshole.” He played with the ring on his finger, gaze drifting down to the heavy silver band. “But he graded fairly and I aced the class.”
“’Course you did.” I chuckled. “You’re smart as hell.”
I waved at one of our neighbors walking her Great Dane named Jerry that I loved petting. I turned a corner to head for the bridge that connected Vert Island with New Gothenburg.
“I’m not that smart,” Oli grumbled, but the blush spread down his neck into the collar of his shirt. “I mean, I’ve always done okay. For a while I wanted to drop out of high schoolbecause I was bored, but Mom wouldn’t let me.” I followed the pinkish red with my eyes, unable to stop my gaze from trailing in the same direction. How far south did that blush go? Was his chest flushed, too?
I shook the thought out of my head. Nope. I wasn’t going there. Thinking about him in any sexual way was out of line. “Bullshit. Barber tells us how you do at school. It’s fucking awesome. Better than me.” I flinched. “I bombed my first test in Weeman’s class. He gave us one on the first day to see how much we knew. I can’t fail the class or there’s a chance I’ll get kicked off the team. I’m there on a scholarship, so I need to keep my grades up. Weeman would probably love that. He has it out for athletes.”
Oli made a sound of agreement. “He really does. Last year, he made a lacrosse player cry. Full-on sobbing. Not long after, the player ended up leaving the school. Went to one down South.”
“You’re kidding.” I didn’t laugh, but it was close, mostly because I fucking hated lacrosse players. There was something extra douchey about them and the way they saw themselves. The football team had been in fights with them more than once, especially at parties. Good thing I never went out the way my teammates did.
“Nope. He was an all right guy, too.” Oli shrugged. He did that a lot. “I felt bad for him.”
“Maybe I need you to tutor me.” I was half teasing but a little serious. He had better ways to spend his time, though.
“I’d love to.” He sat up straighter in his seat, eyes wider than usual as his gaze fell on me. He had his sketchbook clasped to his chest again. “I can, that is. Tutor you.”
“We’re in the same year.” I grinned despite myself, warmth weaving through me. Oli was a genuine soul, carved from compassion and purity, and I’d never quite met a person like him. A curl fell across his eyes, and my fingers twitched as theurge to brush it away took hold. The only thing that saved me from doing something stupid was driving.
“But I’m passing with flying colors and you need help. Let me tutor you.”
It wasn’t a terrible idea. Actually, the suggestion was awesome. “Okay, yeah. If you’re up for it.” I grinned. “I’m doing pretty good, but I’d love another set of eyes on my assignments when I’m finished with them. I’d pay you.”
“No, no!” He shook his head fast, his curls bouncing. His eyes lit up, something happy and bright and confident filling them for the first time. Barber always said Oli had sass, but I’d never seen it. He’d been quiet and reserved in a way that made me wonder a little if Barber was pulling my leg. “I don’t need your money.”
“Don’t be stupid.” I grabbed my smoothie from the cup holder and took a long sip from the straw. “You need the cash.”
Oli’s shoulders went taut and his mouth twisted, an irritation I didn’t think I’d ever seen taking over his face. “I’m not poor.” The words came out clipped, his voice deeper than usual, with a lingering hurt that made shame curdle in my stomach.
“I’m not saying that,” I blurted, hoping to soothe his hurt pride. Oli was the last person I wanted to offend. “It’s just....You work for Barber and go to college, and everything’s so fucking expensive. You shouldn’t have to do anything for free, Oli. Don’t let anyone take advantage of you. Your time is worth the money.”
His shoulders relaxed and his mouth softened again. “Oh. But you’re a friend.”
“Which is an even bigger reason I should be paying you. You’re smart as hell and you’ve already got a lot happening in your life.” I took another sip of the smoothie as he fiddled with the silver ring on his finger. “I value your time, so I’m paying you.”
The flush returned, a violent red that splashed across his skin like an unrelenting sunburn. Even though actual darkness was settling in, I could still see it. His blush was a whole lot cuter than a sunburn, though. “Thanks.”
I smiled. “No problem.”
He hugged his sketchbook closer to his chest, and I eyed it carefully. “Are your tattoo designs in that book?”
Barber had told me Oli wanted to be a tattoo artist, but PD refused to acknowledge the idea, which was a shame. If I ever got a tattoo, I would want someone like Oli to do it. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He needed more confidence first.
He glanced down at his sketchbook and cleared his throat. “Yeah.”
“Maybe you could show me?”
He blanched and shook his head immediately. “No. I don’t...no. I don’t think so. Not yet.” He went back to playing with the ring on his finger nervously.
“Oh, okay.” Heavy silence filled the Jeep again, and I drummed the steering wheel. Maybe I couldn’t date Oli, but I wished he was comfortable with me. What had I done to make him act so miserable?
Outside our windows, the world went by like normal. Sidewalks with stores lining the buildings. Inside, our space was saturated in quiet and awkwardness that made me antsy. I caught sight of the ring on his finger as he clutched the sketchbook.
“What’s that ring you keep playing with?”
