Chapter 13
Zara
I’m late to my tutoring session with Noah—mainly because I’ve been over at the college applying for the fashion mentorship. I hung around until I ran into Shannon, making sure she knew I applied. The way her eyes lit up made me want to laugh. There’s no doubt in my mind I’ve got this.
I walk into the library, where Noah and I have arranged to meet. I’ve taken extra care with my appearance today. Not that it matters. I could wear a sack and he still wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off me.
Walking over to the study area, I pull out a chair and sit down, annoyed that he’s late. I don’t like being kept waiting. After ten minutes I’m about to leave when someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn around, expecting Noah, but instead I’m face-to-face with one of the other English teachers in the department, Professor Banton.
“Zara? Professor Bain asked me if I wouldn’t mind taking over your tutoring sessions. He’s had some personal issues arise that make him unable to fulfill his requirements.”
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“I appreciate it, Professor Banton, but I was actually here today to let Professor Bain know that I wouldn’t be able to make our sessions anyway. Work asked me to cover a few extra shifts, and I feel bad saying no.”
“Oh, well, that worked out well, then, didn’t it?” She smiles. “You know where to find me if you need any help, dear.”
“Thanks.” I smile. I grab my bag and stalk out of the library, tapping out a text to Noah on the way.
Me: Personal issues??
Noah: I’d say things have changed in our relationship and it wouldn’t be appropriate for us to spend any more time together outside the classroom.
Me: Right, so my grades have to suffer because you can’t keep your dick in your pants?
Noah: Ms. Banton is a great teacher. You’ll be fine with her.
Me: Ms. Banton is a moron.
I shove my phone into my pocket and storm out to my car.
He’s still fucking avoiding me. I’ve given up on the tutoring. I don’t need help; that was all just a ploy to get closer to him. His wishy-washy attitude shouldn’t bother me; if anything, it should show me that he’s not the kind of person to engage in an illicit affair, but I know better. Don’t I?
—
I lie on my bed while I try to figure this out. My laptop dings, alerting me to a new message coming in. I smile as I click on it. Ryan. Seeing his name makes me realize how much I miss him.
Ryan: Hey, Zars, are you around?
It’s a quick message, and looking at the time stamp, it was sent only a few minutes ago. Unable to control my excitement, I tap back a reply.
Me: Yep. Are you still here?
Go to messenger, he replies, and I open up the instant messenger app on my phone. There is nothing in this world that could make me happier than having an actual conversation with my brother.
Me: Hey, you. I miss you so much. How are you doing?
Ryan: I’m good, baby sis. How’s school? Grades good?
Me: Grades rock, duh. Just having boy problems.
Ryan: Dillon? You know I’m trained to kill a man using only my pinkie, right?
Me: LMFAO. Different guy, not Dillon. It’s this other guy I’m interested in, but he just ignores me.
Ryan: Well, then he’s a dumbass. I’m happy you’re moving on from Dillon. That guy is a fucking mo-ron.
Me: I love you.