Oh brother. Go figure. This was just another prime example of why Brittni was wrong. Trent and
I couldn’t be any more opposite if we tried. I get called to the professor’s office because he’s afraid I have one foot in Loserville. Meanwhile, Trent is his golden geek boy.
“Not your job, sir,” Trent said, pushing his glasses back up on his nose. For some reason, the gesture aggravated me. Why was he always pushing his glasses up? Why not just get his glasses tightened or get a new pair? I knew I was being ridiculous. Actually, I was being petty and mean, but it felt good at the moment.
“That’s my boy. Aim higher. One day you’ll be my boss.”
Trent’s laugh seemed a bit forced. “I wouldn’t go that far, sir,” he answered, looking uncomfortably at me. That was surprising since most of the guys I knew had egos so big they could barely get through a double doorway. Watching Trent now flushing made my stomach flutter slightly, and my aggravation from a few seconds ago evaporated.
“Don’t be modest, my boy. You’re destined to do great things,” Professor N declared, turning back to me. “Young Trent here was the tutor I had in mind for you. He has agreed to help as a favor to me.”
His words were like a bucket of ice-cold water dumped over my head as embarrassment flared through me.
Trent nodded his head. That was just great. They’d been discussing me. I was literally in hell. My feelings of goodwill toward Trent from a moment ago disappeared.
“No, thanks. I don’t need your help.” Acid dripped from my words. Turning on my heels, I stomped away from the office, slamming the door behind me.
I was halfway down the hall when I heard the office door open and footsteps running after me a second before a hand encircled my wrist. Unable to hold back my anger and embarrassment, I abruptly turned to let Trent have it, but I was unprepared for his close proximity and concerned expression. My eyes moved down to his fingers that gently held my wrist. Usually when a guy grabbed me, I felt trapped and overcome with the urge to fight him off, but here, now, I was feeling anything but entrapment. I felt oddly comfortable, like I was anchored to something important, something significant. My eyes moved to Trent’s face.
He looked at me earnestly before finally speaking. “Please let me help you.” A shiver ran through me. His voice was soft yet husky. Had it always sounded that way? A geek with a voice like his went against nature. That deep sexy tone belonged to some mysterious business tycoon trying to entice a sweet innocent virgin into his bed. Rational thoughts were finding it hard to hold court in my mind at the moment. It was time to lay off the steamy books that Ashton kept sending me. This was nerdy Trent, for God’s sake. My complete opposite. Electric blue eyes and sexy voice be damned.
“Tressa, I can help you catch up.” His words finally wormed their way through my mind, which was acting like a horny teenager.
I glared at him before jerking away stubbornly. “I don’t need your help.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. College can be hard for some people.” I bristled at his words. Hard for some people? He might as well have attached morons like you to the statement.
“Don’t worry about us stupid folk. You can go play with your intellectual kind,” I drawled before turning around and stalking away.
It wasn’t until I was out of the building that I finally allowed my shoulders to slump.
Mother of all donkey suck. I wasn’t sure I could remember a time when I felt as mortified as I was at the moment. The idea that Trent knew about my academic failures felt like a sucker punch to the gut. I couldn’t believe Professor N had blabbed. Wasn’t there some kind of student confidentiality or something he was supposed to uphold?
My anger carried me across campus to my apartment. I was still fuming as I stomped up the four flights of stairs. I shoved through the front door, slamming it closed behind me.
“Whoa, Hurricane Tressa,” Derek joked, looking up from his laptop. I ignored him, throwing my book bag on the floor and then kicking it across the room in a complete fit of anger. “Whose ass needs to be kicked?”
“Professor N’s,” I answered through gritted teeth, hurling myself on the couch beside Derek.
“Oh, well, I’m out on that one.”
“Gee, thanks.” I glared at him.
“What happened?”
I shrugged, not wanting to tell him the real issue. It was bad enough Professor N and Trent knew the current dismal condition my grades were in. I didn’t need my friends to know I was a total loser. “Nothing,” I mumbled, climbing off the couch.
“Hey, you can talk to me.” He sounded sincere. For a moment, I was tempted, but the words stuck in my throat like a lump.
“It’s nothing,” I muttered, grabbing my book bag off the floor and heading for our room. I closed the door behind me and tossed the bag in the far corner. At the moment, I wasn’t in the mood to deal with it. I collapsed on the bed as the last of my anger faded and was replaced with remorse and something akin to pain.
“Tressa,” Derek called, knocking cautiously on the door.
“Come in,” I answered in a monotone voice.
Derek turned the knob and entered the room slowly. If I wasn’t in total mopeville I would have laughed. My friends knew me well enough to know that if something got me this steamed, it must be serious. “If you need me to kick your professor’s ass, I’ll do it,” he said, looking pained. He slid an arm around my shoulders and squeezed.
I debated his words like I was actually giving them serious consideration. “No. He’s a tough old bird. It would be embarrassing for you if he was the one who ended up doing the ass-kicking.”