Secrets of the Deep [Wattpad Featured Story]

Chapter Eight

I rapped my fingers impatiently on the wooden table. My feet were kicked up on a nearby chair while the contents of my backpack were scattered all over the table. I checked my phone for the umpteenth time and sighed noisily. Thanks a lot, Sage! I could have been well on my way home instead of stuck in this smelly library waiting for a guy who might not even show up.

Earlier, I had gotten the chance to talk to Sage during swim class, and I made it crystal-clear that I had no interest in being tutored. But Sage meekly replied that Luke had already cleared his schedule for me, so it was now between he and I.

"Just meet him in the library and tell him face-to-face," she'd suggested.

"But don't you have his number or something? Can't you tell him for me?" I had protested.

Despite my pleading, Sage was convinced it was too late to go back on her word. So, with a sigh, I resigned myself to my fate. That's why I had been sitting in the library for fifteen minutes, completely and utterly bored out of my mind. I decided to give Luke two more minutes. Then, if he still didn't show up, I would leave.

Suddenly, the front door swung open, and the librarian smiled up at the newcomer. "Can I help you with anything?" she asked.

"No thanks." The student—a tall, tanned boy with brown hair—smiled and shook his head. "I'm just meeting someone here for tutoring."

The librarian nodded in understanding, and the boy swept his gaze around the room. I immediately wished I had a book to hide my face. Despite my previous intentions, I suddenly didn't know how I was going to tell this guy that our tutoring session was off.

The boy, upon realizing that I was the only student in the room, casually stepped up to my table and said, "You must be Rayne."

Darn it. I swallowed the lump in my throat and sat up straighter. "Yeah. And you are...?"

"Luke Sanchez. Nice to meet you." He stuck out his hand, and I shook it a bit reluctantly. "So," he said, taking a seat across from me, "Sage said you needed some help with Spanish."

I stared at him. He didn't even have an accent. Only his chocolate-brown eyes and shaggy brown hair hinted that he was Hispanic. And maybe the way his nose was slightly pointed and his face was perfectly chiseled. And possibly how his mouth curled up into a sort of half-smile when he talked. And—

"You do need help with Spanish, right...?"

I immediately glanced away, trying to ignore the deep blush rising on my cheeks. "Yes! Yes, I'm terrible," I said hastily. "Terrible at Spanish, I mean. I'm pretty good at other things."

His lips quirked up into a smile.

"I—uh—do you play any sports?" I asked, changing the subject.

"Sports?" he echoed. "Nah. Not really my thing."

"Oh. I thought you might, because you're really...ah..." I winced. "Muscular?"

Luke tried in vain to suppress a laugh. "Thanks," he chuckled.

I ducked my head in embarrassment. My cheeks were now flushed scarlet. Since when had I become such a dunce? The words had just popped out of my mouth before I could stop them.