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He exits the room faster than he appeared, leaving me alone with Professor Creepy. Ever since my interview, he’s given me weird vibes. But this position pays better than my other jobs.
“Samantha…” Professor Frazier says, taking a seat behind his desk. “Do we need to discuss the rules?”
“No, sir,” I mutter. “I didn’t know he locked the door. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. The hallway was noisy when he walked in. I didn’t think anything of having the door shut so he could have some quiet to take the quiz.”
“Don’t let it happen again.” He sets his briefcase on the desk and clicks the lock, pushing the top open. “I have some work to do. If the grades are entered into Strick Net, then you can go home for the day.”
I smile. “Yes, all of the grades are updated. Except for Tucker’s. He only just finished.”
He points at the chair Tucker recently vacated. “Have a seat, then.”
I do as he instructs reaching for the red pen on his desk, but before I can lift it, he covers his hand over mine. A ripple of shock and fear floods my veins.
What is he doing? I stare at him, eyes wide and confused.
“Don’t mistake my absence for ignorance, Miss Marchand. I’m always aware of what’s going on at this school. Do you understand?”
What the hell is his problem? I have no idea what he’s talking about.
A pang of anxiety crushes my chest, stabbing me. My life is hard enough. I don’t need another complication.
“Yes, sir,” I say, and he releases his hold on my hand allowing me to sit and grade Tucker’s paper.
Now, I see why Tucker asked me to take it easy on him. I circle the bright red D at the top of his paper and add it to the stack of quizzes inside the pocket of my organizer.
He’s going to need my help to pass this class.
Too bad he won’t get it.
Chapter Sixteen
Tucker
Grinding my teeth, I stare at the computer screen furious with Sam. “She gave me a D,” I tell Trent, who’s sitting on his bed.
“Did you study?” Trent’s tone is accusatory, mocking even, because he damn well knows I didn’t have time to study.
Between practices and games, I haven’t had a second to think about school. All I can envision at this point is the finish line. The ultimate prize—winning another championship. We’re on track for regionals, and I have no doubt we’ll win the Frozen Four again this year.
“Yeah, I studied.” The lie slips off my tongue too easy. “She has it out for me.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me, glancing up from his phone. “Who?”
“The teaching assistant. We fucked a couple of years ago at a party, and now she hates me.”
Trent laughs and continues typing a message to Jemma. That’s all he does anymore is sit on his phone and talk to his girl. “You must not have fucked her good enough.”
“She was a virgin,” I confess. “I didn’t know.”
He makes a face as if he’s thinking over what I just said. “You need to fix it. Smooth things over with her.”
I snort. “Nothing will work on this girl. She hates me.”
But she did let me get close enough to touch her leg on the first day of class. She can’t hate me that much. Not when she didn’t even try to push me away.
“Maybe it’s your approach,” he counters. “Hey, baby, wanna see my stick-handling skills isn’t going to win her over.”
I laugh. “Fuck you! I don’t say that to girls.”
He rolls his eyes. “Pretty damn close.”
“Time to switch up the game,” I mutter, considering his comment. “How do I do that?”
“Find out what she likes. Start there.”
“She works at Broad Street Beans, so I guess she likes coffee.”
“Just because she works there doesn’t mean she likes coffee, you idiot.” He shakes his head and sets his phone down on the bed. “Didn’t you say her screen name on Strick Net is Heir of Slytherin?”
I nod, not following his train of thought. “So? What’s that got to do with anything?”
He cocks an eyebrow at me. “As in Harry Potter.”
“Still not following, bro.”
He sighs. “How have you never seen a Harry Potter movie? She’s obviously a fan, or she wouldn’t have chosen that as her screen name.”
“And?” I still don’t get it.
“You could shock her by learning about the books. It would give you something to talk about other than the past.”
“Is that what you did with Jemma?”
He shrugs. “It’s easier with Jemma. We just click, but you’re at a disadvantage. This girl likes books. She’s smart, obviously, and you’re a fucking idiot who won’t even open a book to pass a class on your own.”
“Hey, I passed Business Law last semester on my own, I’ll have you know.”
“Barely,” he growls. “A C- isn’t something to brag about.”
