Private Lessons

RILEY

A couple of days later, I was startled by the vibration of my phone in my pocket during English class. I pulled it out to find a text from Lucy.

English class was a drag. I’d already read all of Shakespeare’s plays and Jane Austen’s novels. Lucy and I only had one or two classes together each day.

I sent a quick reply and tried to refocus on the lesson. The day was dragging on, and I was itching to get out of school. It was Friday, after all.

My phone buzzed again, drawing a few curious glances from my classmates.

A few seconds later, my phone buzzed again, louder this time. Everyone turned to look at me.

Suddenly, I was the center of attention. I cringed and slid lower in my seat, quickly silencing my phone and stuffing it back into my pocket.

I wasn’t against parties, but I wasn’t one to dress up either. Showing up in my usual, “uncool” clothes would only draw attention, which I didn’t want.

When class finally ended, I hurried to meet Lucy at our usual table in the cafeteria. On the way, I checked my phone and found a few texts from her...and one from an unknown number.

My eyes widened in surprise and excitement. I’d completely forgotten about the impulsive decision I’d made a week ago.

I was so engrossed in my phone, trying to figure out who this mystery person was, that I didn’t watch where I was going.

I walked right into a solid chest, dropping my already-damaged phone.

Damn it!

I muttered under my breath, looking up to see who I’d bumped into. My annoyance flared when I saw it was Tristan-freaking-Harris.

I bent down to pick up my phone. It was still working, but the screen was now completely cracked.

“Oops, sorry!” he smirked, flashing that infuriatingly sexy smirk that made me want to punch him.

I didn’t understand why I was so angry. He’d bumped into me on purpose, I was sure of it.

Jerk.

I was frustrated by the fact that I found him attractive, even though I couldn’t stand him.

“Sorry?” I scoffed, taking a deep breath to calm myself. My eyes landed on his phone, sticking out of his pocket.

To my own surprise, I stepped forward. He stumbled back, caught off guard.

He probably hadn’t expected me to retaliate.

I snatched his phone from his pocket and stepped back. Tristan blinked, trying to process what had just happened.

He rolled his eyes. “Nice try, Adams. Now give it back before you regret it.”

He glared at me, licking his lips and rubbing his chin, clearly annoyed.

God, he’s hot.

Ugh, not this again!

“Here! Catch.” I held out his phone then let it drop. It hit the floor with a loud thud, and I heard gasps echo through the hallway.

That’s when I realized we had an audience. Tristan’s nostrils flared in anger; he looked ready to explode.

Honestly, I was scared. I had no idea why I’d done that. Everyone was staring at me like I’d committed a crime.

Oh, shit!

What’s wrong with me?

I was poking the bear.

I tried to walk past him, but he stepped in front of me, his eyes blazing with anger.

“You better watch your back, Adams,” he hissed before picking up his phone and storming off.

I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

So much for avoiding drama.

“What the hell was that?” Lucy laughed as I joined her at the end of the hallway.

“Don’t ask. I don’t know what came over me. He just pisses me off. Why can’t he bother someone else?”

“First, that was pretty hot. Second, he messes with you because you’re an easy target. Give him a taste of his own medicine and watch him run,” she replied.

We headed to the cafeteria.

“I wish he’d leave me alone. He’s so annoying. I can’t believe girls find his arrogance attractive,” I grumbled as we sat down. My inner self called me a hypocrite.

“You have to admit, bad boys are sexy,” she said with a knowing smirk.

I sighed. “Enough about him. I got a response to that ad I posted in the school newspaper,” I said, changing the subject.

Her eyes widened in surprise and excitement. “Damn, girl! Who is it?” she asked, sounding more eager than I was.

I laughed. “I don’t know. I haven’t replied yet. What if it’s a joke?”

“Just ask for their name, babe.”

The reply came almost instantly.

Privacy reasons?

“What should I say?” I asked, showing her the message.

“Ask them to meet you at the library. It’s safe, and you work there, so you won’t be embarrassed if you get stood up.”

I frowned. “This isn’t a date, Lu.”

“Yeah, I know, but do it my way,” she said, dismissing my objection. I decided to take her advice and unlocked my phone.

I pressed send and turned to her.

“Now we just wait. Do you want me to stick around? Just in case this person turns out to be a creep?” she asked, her tone serious.

I chuckled. “The only creep in this school is you, Lu. I’ll be okay.” I teased her, taking another bite of my tuna sandwich.

“Alright then.” She stuck her tongue out at me, and we went back to our lunch, chatting about this and that.

***

Every five minutes, I found myself glancing at my phone, hoping for a message from the mystery person. It was already six o’clock.

I kept working, trying not to overthink things. This was just a classmate, and I was just going to help them with math.

Piece of cake.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to mentally prepare myself. At about 6:15, Tristan walked into the library, the book he’d borrowed earlier in his hand.

I figured he was returning it and kept my eyes on my computer, but he walked right past me, shooting me a sideways glance before taking a seat at one of the empty tables.

I was surprised he didn’t say anything to me, especially after what happened earlier today.

The library was pretty busy, and I noticed a few students giving Tristan odd looks. He wasn’t the type to hang out in a library, let alone sit down in one.

I kept sneaking peeks at him from behind my computer and saw that he was engrossed in his phone. I nearly jumped out of my skin when my phone buzzed with a notification.

I looked up from my phone, scanning the room. There was no one who looked like they were waiting for someone, except--

Oh no!

It can’t be.

I pressed send and immediately saw Tristan glance down at his phone. He smirked and started typing something.

Shit! Shit! Shit!

Please don’t let it be him.

I stared at the text. It was an exact description of what Tristan was wearing. Just then, our eyes locked.

I’m screwed!