Senseless Attraction (13 page)

      “What’s going on, chaps?” Hunter asked.

      “Nothing much, just waiting for Alex there to tell us which one she has the hots for,” Aaron supplied.

      “Maybe she likes us all…could make it fun.” Hunter laughed. They then started talking about what position they'd like to have me in. I couldn't stop the blush from rising.

      “Oh, look, just us talking about it has her hot and ready.” Tom snickered.

      Thankfully, the teacher, Mrs Hemingway, walked in and started the class. It didn't take long to tune out whatever else they were saying and concentrate on cosine and tangent ratio. I loved Maths; it was my best subject. Even though I still got good grades for all my subjects, Maths was the one I enjoyed the most.

     Only, it was always too soon when it finished. The bell rang for lunch; I quickly packed up my things, and started to head out before the idiots had left their seats.

       “Miss Harmony, I would like to have a word with you please.”

      I hunched my shoulders and turned back around to the teacher. I walked over to her desk before the guys came my way; they wouldn’t risk doing or saying anything in front of the teacher. It was only when the class had emptied that I noticed Tristan still in the room in his seat in the back.

      “Tristan, come up here,” Mrs. Hemingway ordered. She had that voice where you knew to do as she said or else you’d suffer the consequences. She was a tough teacher like Mr Kenneth, who stuck strictly to the rules. She had been teaching here a long time and was now in her mid-sixties, with long grey hair that was always in a ponytail, and dark blue eyes.

      “Alex,” she said, bringing my attention back to her. “I was speaking to Tristan here last Friday, informing him that if he didn’t pull up his grade that he will be failing this class. We both don't want that to happen, so I suggested that he find a study partner, someone who has all of the knowledge of what needs to be learned. I think that someone is you.”

      I couldn't help it; I gaped. Was she serious? Me, help Tristan with Maths? Me, in a room alone with Tristan? Me?

      “I don't want her,” Tristan said quietly. His answer didn't surprise me; who would want me?

      “You do not get a choice on who is helping you, Tristan. Just be grateful for that said help.”

      “I can't,” I said and flinched away from Tristan.

      “Why not?” the teacher asked.

     
Yes, why not, Alex? Think, damn it, think.
This was where my brain should be supplying me with a suitable answer. Instead, I got nothing.

      “I—ah.” I shrugged.
Great one, Alex, make the guy hate me even more by rejecting him without an answer.

      “Alex, unless you can come up with a good explanation, I see no way around this. You are the best candidate for teaching Tristan.” She waited for me to say something, but still, I had nothing. My brain had failed me for the first time.

      “Well, let’s see; I think getting together three times a week should be sufficient...”

      “I can't do three; I still have to work, and that’s Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday nights,” Tristan said.

      “All right, two then. Friday nights and Saturday. Let’s say at the local library.”

      “I work there Friday afternoons and Saturdays,” I said. Mrs Hemingway sunk in her seat and sighed in defeat. This was looking promising; our schedules didn't correspond, so I wouldn't be able to help him.

      “I can come by after you finish on both days.” Tristan sneered.

      On that, Mrs Hemingway perked back up and smiled. My stomach dropped; damn it again, why couldn't he have just kept his mouth shut.

      “Very good then. Alex, what time do you finish on both days?”

      I rolled my eyes. “Seven Fridays and twelve Saturdays.”

      “Great, that gives you two hours Friday night before the library closes, and half the day Saturday.”

      “I do have a life, you know; I'm not spending all my Saturday in the freaking library,” Tristan complained.

      “Doesn’t matter. I'm sure the two of you will work out how long you'll need to study for. Now, you both best be off or you'll miss lunch.” With that, she grabbed her things and walked out of the classroom.

      I was not going to be standing there alone with Tristan, so I quickly followed her out. Though, Tristan was still fast enough to catch me on the way to the cafeteria and growled in a whisper, “You tell no one you’re helping me.”

      
Like I would want anyone to know.
That was what I wanted to say; instead, I nodded my head, and he kept walking.

      I went through the doors to the crowded, smelly, and noisy lunchroom. Right then, I didn't feel like eating, so I went to the table that was already occupied by Sarah. I looked over to the line at the counter and found Corbet there waiting to be served, no doubt for his second helping; he loved his food.

      “Hi.” I smiled.

      Sarah looked up from her tray and smiled back. “Oh hey, I didn't think you were talking to me.”

      “Why would I do that?” I asked while getting an apple from my bag.

      “About, you know, the whole Tristan thing. I know you hate him and his friends, and I totally understand why. But I think Tristan is different from those other wankers.”

      By the way he just growled at me, I doubted it. Still, I answered with, “Yeah, you might be right. So it wasn't a one off thing?”

      “I don't know; I hope not. He's such a great kisser. I haven't seen him today though; was he in Maths?”

      Yeah, and I have to help him study in private later. Alone.
My body shuddered; was I scared? Probably.

      “Yes. He was there.”

      Her eyes brightened. “Good, I hope I see him later. See if I can get a vibe whether he wants to continue on from last night or forget about it.”

     
I hope he forgets about it
.

      What? Where did that come from? I know; it was because I didn't want to see Sarah get hurt, and Tristan was more than capable of doing just that.

      “What are you cooking for tea tonight?” Sarah asked.

      “Trying to see if it's going to be better than what you'll be getting?” I smirked. She was always doing that. I cooked most weeknights. Dad always got home late, so I found it easier instead of waiting for him to cook—which always seemed to get burnt. So I took over the cooking, and the washing, and the cleaning. He had enough on his plate with work, and that was the last thing he needed to come home to do. So Sarah, who had always liked my cooking, usually ended up at my house for tea. It sure beat eating alone, and it wasn’t like her parents would care. Ever since my mom passed away, they’d been very supportive, letting Sarah come over all the time to keep me company. Besides, they thought I was a good influence on her.

      For once, I was grateful for the chores. I needed to keep my mind extra busy, because if it wasn't, I knew I’d start thinking of the looming Friday and Saturday with Tristan.      

      Would he even listen to me? There was a chance he wouldn’t turn up. I could just hope he wouldn’t start tormenting me for the answers like his mates did.

      For the first time in my life, I was not looking forward to going to work Friday.

F
riday arrived too quickly. I usually looked forward to going to work, but this afternoon, I wasn't and it all had to do with Tristan, who would be turning up any minute. I felt nauseated and found I was having problems all afternoon, putting books away in the wrong places, spelling people’s names incorrectly. Even with the simplest names like Smith, I typed into the computer Sinth, which caused the customer to look at me strangely. I even had Mrs Doherty, my supervisor, asking me what the matter was, because I had never behaved like that before. I told her I wasn't feeling well, and that I was still in for a long night because I had to tutor someone after my shift had finished. She smiled and asked if it was a boy. I, of course, blushed and said yes, and then she said “Ah-huh,” as though that explained everything, and then walked off. But the thing was it
didn't
explain everything; she probably thought I had some silly little crush on Tristan, and it would never have crossed her mind that he was the ringleader of a bunch of idiots that caused me trouble every day at school.

      I couldn't keep my mind from picturing how the tutoring episode would go, or if he’d even show. If he did, would he ignore me and my help, like he ignored his idiots when they were hassling me? Only time would tell, and I wished time would just stop so I didn't really have to find out.

       Anxiety crept over me. I glanced up to the clock on the wall opposite our desk to see that my shift had finished. I grumbled to myself, collected my things, said a ‘see you later’ to Mrs Doherty, and then walked over to a table in the far corner behind some tall bookstands.

      Okay, so for a second it may have crossed my mind that he wouldn't be able to find me.

      I waited there for ten minutes on my own, telling myself that if he did not show up in the next five minutes I would leave. I opened the book, “Demon Princess” that I had borrowed before my shift started and began to read. People—mainly Sarah—asked why I read those types of supernatural books when my smart brain could handle so much more. That was when I told her and anyone else who asked that maybe my brain enjoyed the break by totally losing myself in a different kind of story. I did love reading any kind of supernatural romance novels; they took me to another place. I didn't understand when people said they hated to read. Then I figured it was only because they didn't have the imagination. When the story unfolds itself in our minds, it was very gratifying and could, if I let it, entertain me for hours. In a way, everything around me vanished—for instance, when someone walked up to the table I was still sitting at and stood there for God knows how long until I felt his presence.

      I looked up from the book to see Tristan staring down at me with a solemn look upon his face.

      “You’re late,” I snapped, then gasped and placed my hand over my mouth. Did I really just speak to him like that? “Sorry,” I uttered.

       He rolled his eyes and sat down. “Yeah, I had to do some stuff before coming here. Do you still want to do this today, or just make it tomorrow where I should be on time?”

       Was he trying to get out of this already? Was it that hard to be around me? What had kept him so busy in the first place to make him late? And why was I caring?

       “No, no. I am sure we can make a start on it tonight.” I looked at my phone. I had been reading for half an hour. If that was so, then why did he ever bother coming?

      “I mean, if that’s all right with you?” I quickly added.

      “Whatever.” He shrugged and sunk lower in the seat. Seeing he had brought nothing to work with, I pulled out the spare empty notebook that I’d had at home and some pencils. I liked to come prepared for these situations, and something told me that I would have needed them when Tristan was concerned.

      I started writing things down. “All right, we’ll start with Tangent Ratio. Do you understand the solution?”

      He sighed, leaned forward, took the pencil out of my hand, and began writing something down as he said, “Tangent equals opposite side over the adjacent side, and that’s all I
do
know.” He threw the pencil down and sat back.

      “That’s all right; it’s a start.” I smiled. He glared at my encouragement, so I quickly continued. “If you just look at how I work it out. it may help.”

       In the next half-hour, I tried to get something to sink into Tristan’s brain. I spent most of the time talking, which I expected when teaching someone something. What I didn't expect was that Tristan actually listened. He didn't interrupt. He didn't say anything for me to think that I wasn’t helping, or that I was silly in how I wanted to approach the subject with him. And for that I was grateful. Although, sometimes it was hard to concentrate, and my own mind would blank when he would stare at me with intense eyes, or he'd turn his head to the side a little when trying to understand what I was saying. At least that was when I knew to repeat it and he'd straighten his head and nod at me. I felt that I liked that; I liked helping someone understand something I knew, and when he finally started making progress, it warmed me on the inside thinking that I'd helped him do that.