Kieran and I continued to cement our fake relationship throughout the week. We took turns carpooling to school and making sure that people saw us show up together, giving each other publicly flirty greetings and goodbyes. I thought it was ridiculous and over-the-top, but it seemed to satisfy the rumor mill. And according to one of Felicity's friends at St. Lawrence Academy, the whispers had made their way to both Marissa and Maddox, exactly as we'd intended.
My friends had also migrated to the table where Kieran, Finn, and their friends usually sat for lunch. Rose and I practically had to drag Felicity over, due to her adamant refusal to sit anywhere near Ashton Oak, her on-again off-again boyfriend. Theyhad just broken up again for the millionth time, but I suspected whateverdisagreement they'd gotten into would blow over shortly.
On Thursday morning, I came downstairs to find Finn frowning at his oatmeal. I couldn't stand the stuff, so that would've been a normal expression for me, but for Finn, who occasionally ate soggy oats for all three meals and as snacks, this was unusual.
"Who pissed in your oatmeal?" I asked, pouring some cereal—a much more acceptable breakfast food—into a bowl.
He didn't respond, still gazing vacantly into the mush as if it held the answers to the universe.
"Seriously, what's wrong?" I sat at the kitchen island, across from him, and began munching on my Raisin Bran. Then I remembered what had gone down last night. We'd both gotten back from practice late and hadn't had a chance to catch up. "Oh shit, is this about dinner? Did something happen?"
"Nothing happened," he said, getting up and discarding the rest of his food. "I mean, they liked the food."
"How much was the tip?"
He paused, and I knew I'd hit the spot of contention. "...The bill."
"What do you mean, 'the bill'? As in, they didn't give you anything?"
"No, as in, Qadir left me a $2000 tip."
My jaw dropped. "What the fuck? What are you so pouty about, then?"
"I don't want anyone's pity money," he snapped. "I'm not taking handouts." With that, he stormed out of the kitchen. A few moments later, I heard the engine of his car roar to life as he sped toward school.
I climbed into my own Jeep minutes afterward. I was driving myself to school, as I had to meet with a teacher after school about a potential tutoring opportunity and I didn't want to make Kieran wait.
The school day passed in a blur—we read chapter three of Don Quixote, which nearly put me to sleep; Ashton tried to hit on a random girl at lunch and received the verbal lashing of a lifetime, which was the greatest thing I'd witnessed all week—until finally, the last bell rang. I walked out of class to my locker, where Kieran was waiting for our dramatic farewell of the day.
He pushed off the wall with a grin, and I could have sworn I heard literal sighs coming from a group of girls behind me as I approached him. When I was close enough, he wrapped his arms around me and I pressed myself against him, resting my head on his shoulder. His hands settled on the small of my back, their warmth seeping through the thin cotton of my polo. The scent of his cologne wafted into my nose and I let myself relax into the intimate embrace.
No wonder Marissa wanted him back. If Kieran could make a simple hug feel this good, I wasn't sure I could even imagine what it would be like to take things further.
After a few moments, I exhaled and pulled away. "Think that was enough of a show?"
"Judging by the daggers those girls are glaring into your back, I'd say so." He gave me a crooked smile. "Have fun at your meeting. I'll see you later."
Mrs. Harris greeted me with a bright smile as I walked into the library. She had been the forensic science teacher until she became a librarian, but I'd met her freshman year as my seminar teacher, which was basically a free period class. With her corkscrew curls and lively eyes, she reminded me of Mrs. Frizzle from the Magic School Bus, if Mrs. Frizzle had been black.
"Abby! How are you, dear?"
I gave her a smile in return, watching as she sorted books behind the checkout counter. "I'm good. How have you been?"
She waved a hand, bright turquoise rings flashing. "I've been well! I can't believe you're already a senior; it feels like just yesterday you were all lost and confused walking into my classroom. Do you know where you're going to college yet?"
"I haven't decided, but I'm hoping for UNC Chapel Hill. Their coach is making a trip out here sometime in the next month to watch some of our games, so that's exciting." I laughed. "Hopefully they see something they like."
"Oh, how could they not?" Mrs. Harris brought out a stack of prep books and set them on the counter. "Could you take those to that table over there? I'll come join you in just a second."
I grabbed the stack and walked to the table she'd pointed out. The carpet muffled my footsteps, while floor-to-ceiling windows allowed bright sunlight to stream in the spacious room, illuminating dust motes and the spines of the books that lined the tall bookshelves. It was a peaceful environment. The only sounds came from the occasional student scattered throughout the library, finishing up homework assignments before the weekend began.
Setting the books down on the wooden surface, I pulled out a chair and settled in. Mrs. Harris came bustling over moments later with a binder full of papers. "Now, this year we're trying something new. I know in the past the tutoring program has been strictly within our school, but we've decided to branch out, to foster more connectivity between the students of our school district."
I nodded. I'd signed up to be a tutor last year as a last-ditch effort to get some volunteer service hours. To everyone's surprise, including my own, not only had I enjoyed it, but I found that I was actually good at teaching others. Considering my temper and lack of patience, the surprise wasn't unwarranted, but I was glad I'd found something else that I could do well.
"I'm sure you know of this school, or maybe even some students in it," she continued. "And I've gone ahead and paired you up with a student based on both of your schedules; I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all!" I said brightly. "Who's my latest victim? I mean, student?"
Mrs. Harris laughed. "Well, he's a senior and he needs help in AP biology and stats. Since you took biology last year and are currently in AP stats, I figured you'd be a perfect fit." She flipped through the binder until she reached the right page. "Here we go! From what the other teachers have told me, this boy is an absolute sweetheart. And apparently, he's cute, too."
"Is that what teachers do in their free time? Gossip about students?"
"Honey, we do more than just gossip. Why do you think we switch seating charts around so often?"
"And here I thought it was because I talked too much in class," I grumbled. "You mean you're all secretly matchmakers?"
"Not everybody, but a lot of us!" She laughed. "Now, don't go spreading that around! Anyway, Maddox is available to meet on Tuesdays and Thursdays after school, and occasionally Friday, if he doesn't have practi—"
"Maddox?" I blurted, accidentally interrupting Mrs. Harris. Please, please, don't let it be the Maddox I'm thinking of.
Her smile brightened, mistaking my surprise for eagerness. "Yes, that's who you'll be tutoring this semester! Maddox Reiser, from St. Lawrence Academy."
————
Finn was in a foul mood all day, which was strange. Usually Abby was the one fuming like someone had shit on her precious car, while Finn was more of the happy-go-lucky type.
After the dinner, he had rushed to practice, cutting the half hour. drive down to a record seventeen minutes and breaking probably every single road law that existed along the way. He had all but forgotten about the money by the time practice was over, and it wasn't until he'd pulled into the garage and grabbed his waiter uniform that he remembered what had happened only a couple hours beforehand.
Finn was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but in this case, he was determined to return the $2000. Never mind the fact that his car was beginning to make suspicious noises, probably from his demonic driving, and he could use the money to get it repaired. He hated feeling like he owed people something. There was no way he was taking anyone's charity money, and especially not Qadir Sayed's.
With his mind made up, he decided he would return the money to the only connection he had to Qadir: Eden. Which was why, after going to an ATM and withdrawing a fat stack of Benjamin Franklins, he found himself parked outside of St. Lawrence Academy for the second time that week on Friday afternoon.
This time, however, as he wandered the school, someone stopped him by the stairwell of a random hallway. He glanced around in confusion, looking for whoever had just called his name, when he heard an exasperated noise coming from somewhere around his chest.
Finn looked down to find the tiny blonde menace named Marissa Willingham glaring at him through narrowed icy blue eyes. He wasn't used to having to look down at people to talk to them; Kieran and most of his teammates were about his height, while Abby was only a few inches shorter. Distractedly, he wondered how on earth Kieran had managed to date this miniature demon.
"Hello?" she snapped, bringing him back to reality. "Are you deaf? I asked what you're doing here!" The volume of her voice more than made up for their height difference. It felt like she was screaming directly in his ear. Other students streamed around them, but Marissa didn't seem to care that she was causing a scene in the middle of the stairwell.
He blinked and opened his mouth to respond, but she continued talking. "Never mind, I don't actually care. Tell your sister to back off my boyfriend." She spat the word sister like it was the worst curse she could think of.
Finn felt a surge of protectiveness rise up inside him. He'd witnessed firsthand the damage she'd done to Kieran, and he wasn't about to let Marissa talk about his best friend and his sister like that. "First of all, you guys broke up months ago. Second, neither of them wants anything to do with you, so why don't you just mind your own goddamn—"
"Sorry, Mari, I got caught up talking to Adrian." Eden came down the stairs and froze. Her eyes darted from her best friend to Finn, whose temper flared again at the sight of her. Even her distractingly short skirt and heeled sandals that emphasized her defined calves weren't enough to deter him from his mission.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, frowning at him.
Marissa rolled her eyes. "Who cares? Let's just go."
Finn crossed his arms. "Actually, I need to talk to Eden."
"Oh yeah? That's too bad, because we're leaving." He nearly laughed out loud at the ridiculous amount of imperiousness in Marissa's tone. Who does she think she is, the fucking Queen of England?
"You go ahead, Mari," Eden said. "This should only take a minute."
Marissa looked mutinous, but a sharp glance from Eden had her departing with a dramatic huff. The stairwell had emptied quickly, with most students eagerly departing for the weekend, leaving just the two of them behind. Eden pinched the bridge of her nose and heaved a sigh. "You really need to stop stalking me at school."
"I'll make it quick," he snapped. "I don't want this." He held out the money toward her, but she made no move to take it, instead frowning at him incredulously.
"What is that? What are you doing?"
"I don't need your dad's handouts, okay? I'm not a charity case."
"It's not charity, it's gratuity! You literally work in a restaurant. You should know better than anyone how tipping works."
"Yeah, but this is ridiculous!" he spluttered.
"Then go donate it or something if it makes you that uncomfortable!" she retorted, crossing her arms. "No one said you had to keep it, but I'm not taking it to my father. It's really not that big of a deal."
Finn had to admit, part of him was very tempted to just turn around and walk away with the money, but his pride refused to let him. "That's exactly the problem. It's a big deal to me, principle-wise. I didn't do anything to warrant this much money."
"That single meal took the entire afternoon and I know it made you late to practice. I'd say you more than earned it, so just take the damn money, okay?"
He paused, momentarily thrown. "How'd you know I had practice?"
"That doesn't matter."
Finn opened his mouth to reply, just as two girls came bounding down the stairs, gossiping excitedly about their weekend plans. Their eyes landed on the two of them. One girl froze mid-laugh at the sight in front of her. Finn still held the wad of cash out toward Eden, whose mouth had puckered like she'd just eaten a lemon.
Immediately, Finn shoved the cash in his pocket, but the damage was done. The two girls—one blonde, one brunette—glanced between his reddening face and Eden's stony expression. He could practically see their imaginations kicking into overdrive, spinning one outlandish rumor after another about the scene in front of them.
Both girls unfroze and continued down the staircase, rounding the corner of the hallway. Before they were even out of sight, they collapsed into giggles once again, and this time Finn had no doubt who the subjects of their latest conversation were.
Eden glared at him. Her golden eyes were narrowed dangerously, and he couldn't help but feel like he was being cornered by a tiger about to go for the kill. He let out an exhale. "Great."
That was all it took to set off the explosion. "Why couldn't you just leave well enough alone? As if people don't already talk enough shit about me! I can't wait to see what ridiculous rumor they come up with this time."
He bristled indignantly. "How is this my fault? You should've just taken the money back. Then we wouldn't be in this mess to begin with!"
Eden's hands balled into fists. "I'm done with this. Screw you, Finn. Do me a favor and don't come looking for me again." She whirled on her heel and strode away, her spine stiff with anger.
God, she was infuriating. He glared at her retreating figure. If his life were a cartoon, Finn was positive there would be steam pouring from his ears. His whole face felt suffused with too much blood, like he'd been dangling upside down for too long.
Belatedly, he realized that the money was still stuffed haphazardly into the pocket of his khakis. He swore. Well, there was no way he was keeping even a single dollar after this fiasco. Still cursing under his breath, he headed for the parking lot, dreading the gossip that was probably already circulating.