Page 24 of Return Policy

“Hey,” I say, placing a hand on my chest, “I studieddaysfor that test.”

“You know you have to do more than just have the book in your hands, right? You have to actually open it”—she presses her hands together, then unfolds them in front of her—“andreadthe words on the page.”

“Such a smartass.” I shake my head, unable to hide my grin as we take a step forward in line. “Okay, I’m buying you a coffee, and then I have a favor to ask.”

She raises her eyebrows. “What if you buy me a coffee and I saynoto the favor?”

“Then I guess we’ll have to consider this a date.” I wink and she chuckles, unamused, patting my shoulder. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t justlaughat the possibility of going on a date with me.”

“And I’m going to pretend you didn’t suggest it.”

We reach the front of the line, and I gesture for her to go first. She hesitates but ultimately gives in.

“Can I please get a large black iced coffee?” she tells the barista.

He plucks a plastic cup. “Room for cream and sugar?”

“No, thank you.”Damn, she likes it dirty.

“Anything else?” the barista asks, and Sophia points a thumb over her shoulder at me.

“Yes sir, can I get a hot medium hazelnut latte with a drizzle of honey and some whip cream, please,” I tell him, and Sophia snorts beside me before striding over to the pickup counter. I give him our names, pay, and walk over to join her. “What was that about?”

“What waswhatabout?”

I squint my eyes at her. “You laughed when I ordered my drink.”

“Yeah.” A breathy laugh escapes her. “Because I ordered black coffee like an adult, and you ordered a honey hazelnut latte like a basic bitch.”

“Hey!” I put my fists on my hips. “Hazelnut is fucking delicious.”

“I bet it is,HoneyBee.” My lips quirk at the new nickname. “So why’d you bribe me? Need someone to steal your virginity or something?”

I scoff. “As if you really believe I’m a virgin.”

Her eyes trail my body with a disapproving gaze that makes my jaw tighten. “I don’t know. It doesn’t really seem like you’d know what to do with your hands.” She pokes my wrist and lets out a mocking laugh.

“Such a mouthy girl.” I bite my lower lip. “No, I don’t need help inthatdepartment. Thank you very much. But I do need you totutorme for world history.”

“What?”

“Couldyou”—I point at her—“helpme”—I press a finger to my chest—“study?”

“Elijah. I’m not sure that’s such a—”

“Sophia, I’m asking you to study, not fuck in the corner of the library.”

Her eyes go wide, cheeks flushing pink, before she controls her expression. “There’s a study session every Wednesday at three. Can’t you just go to that?”

“No, I have mandatory practice on Wednesdays from two to six.” I bring my hands together in a prayer position. “Please, Sophia, I really need to keep my grades up to maintain my scholarship.”

“You’re here on ascholarship?” She gawks.

“Yeah… Don’t look so surprised.”

“I’m sorry, I just, I guess you’re actually good at football then?”

“I mean, I play for a division one school, so yeah, I’m good at football.” I laugh, attempting and failing to not sound cocky. “But I won’t be playing anymore if I fail my classes, so please, Sophia Summers,pleasewill you tutor me?”

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