Page 40 of The Cheerleader

“And your name?” She’s a no-nonsense type with no smile, so I automatically double up on mine to make up for it.

“Susie Bennett.” I match her no-nonsense tone, but my stubborn smile stays.

“Bennett…” She glances down at some papers. “My note says you’re a transfer student from Smith. And also that you’re on the list of volunteer tutors for the department.” She looks up with interest in her expression.

Bryan gives me an unreadable look, and he turns to leave.

“Don’t leave yet, Mr. Granger. Miss Bennett may be the solution to the problem we were discussing.”

My mouth drops, but I close it quickly because I need to pay attention, though hearing over the loud thumping of my heart may be difficult. Solution to a problem? His problem with this class? I try not to get ahead of myself, but excitement wars with dismay because I think I know what she’s talking about.

He turns back around and raises an eyebrow at the professor, not bothering to agree or disagree.

“Miss Bennett can be your tutor. She’s met the requirements for volunteers, or she wouldn’t be on the list. Since it appears you already know her, the arrangement between you will work better than one with a stranger.” She eyes Bryan meaningfully, and the look makes me uncomfortable. There’s some kind of undercurrent between them.

Besides, I’m not exactly sure how I feel about tutoring Bryan. Yes, it’s exciting to think about helping my long-lost boy from the ditch, finally. But it turns out he’s an intoxicatingly dangerous man-boy, and most importantly, the object of Liz’s deepest desire.

Underneath all that complication between us, Professor Yardley’s comment about me being better than a stranger has a mysterious ring. Does he have enemies on campus?

He holds her stare for a beat before speaking. “Why do you think an arrangement with Miss Bennett might work better, Professor Yardley? Spell it out for me.”

She thins her lips. I try not to resent that no one’s asking me if I’ll agree to this tutoring assignment while my heart speeds up at the way he’s challenging her. Rebellion and sheer anger are obvious in the set of his jaw, leaping out of him with strangling tension.

“Of course I’ll spell it out. It seems your football accomplishments and resulting fame on campus have caused a frenzy of notoriety for you. If I put your name in to get a volunteer tutor, there will likely be a clamor of coeds lining up, though not necessarily interested in teaching you anything. At least not about reading or writing.”

As I take in her words, my mouth opens like the Holland Tunnel before I realize it and shut it. The way she said football accomplishments with a sneer feels like a slap, and I’m insulted on his behalf, a good cheerleader standing up for the team.

She hates football for whatever reason, and football players. I clamp my jaw tight.

Holding my breath, I wait for Bryan’s response as he stares back at the professor, his expression unchanging.

When he doesn’t respond for a few beats, I blurt out, “I’d be happy to help.” Then I shut my mouth again to wait for him to say something.

My heart pumps even harder now. My desire to help him, to fight back against this professor on his behalf, could get me into trouble or at least complicate things with Liz.

No, she’ll understand. If he needs help with English Comp—which clearly he does—I can help him. I’m good at tutoring, and I love the satisfaction of helping students. Of course, my only experience is with younger kids, and I prefer tutoring in math, but I can do it if he’ll let me.

His kiss complicated things. A lot. It’s one thing to dream about a guy you never thought you’d see again, and it’s a whole other thing to be confronted with the irresistible male presence of him, especially when he gives you a toe-curling kiss. Guilt flushes my face as Liz pops into my head and how she trusts me and wants me and Bryan to get along.

I doubt very much she means the toe-curling kiss kind of getting along.

Professor Yardly clears her throat, still staring at Bryan. “Well?”

“I’ve tutored before,” I jump in as if I’m on a job interview and was asked for my credentials—which I wasn’t. I don’t mention that my tutorees were grade school kids. Brightening my tone, I add, “I’d like the opportunity to practice my teaching skills.”

Bryan looks at me with a more relaxed, albeit unreadable expression, like he’s playing poker or something. I’ve noticed when he’s not trying to intimidate others with his full-on scowl, he wears that blank expression most of the time, as if all of life is a risky game of poker and one wrong move will have him losing everything.

Professor Yardly turns to me, not exactly smiling, but not tight-lipped like she’s holding in a scream. “I’ll provide you with some materials that I think will help with Mr. Granger’s particular impediment.” She turns to Bryan with a dismissive problem-solved look. “Is that acceptable to you? I anticipate an hour twice a week should help.”

“My schedule is⁠—”

“You won’t graduate without passing this course,” she says with a hard voice that makes me flinch. Without realizing it, I find I’ve moved closer to Bryan, as if he needs protecting, as if I could protect him from the evil professor. As if I’m his last hope.

He doesn’t speak, doesn’t confirm that he’ll go along with the arrangement.

After an uncomfortable moment, she lowers her voice. “Let me explain the consequences in terms you’ll understand.” A smile touches her mouth, but it’s a smug smile.

“I spoke with your coach. If, after midterms, you don’t have a C or better, you will not be able to play football. Does that convince you to go along with the arrangement, Mr. Granger?”