So when it comes time for me to join Blake in the library for his so-called tutoring, a little part of me is desperately hopeful that it actuallywillinvolve some learning and studying. Because I'm not sure I can do this alone, and that scares me.
"You're late," he says as I join him at a table in the middle of the study section, glancing down at his watch. "It's three fifty-nine."
"And we're supposed to meet at four," I point out. "Also, who even wears a watch anymore? What are you, my grandpa?"
"I have all my teeth, so I doubt it."
I snort at his little joke—Papa Edwin was an asshole, and I never knew my mother's father, so I can't say that I mind Blake's shit-talking. Still, as I point out, "Making fun of me for being country trailer trash is a little old now, don't you think? And I was early."
"Except it's four now, and your study materials aren't out in front of you."
"That'll take no time."
"Then do it."
As he watches, I pull Silas's laptop, my notebook, some pencils, and printed study worksheets out of my bag. Despite Coleridge's general love of online class material, teachers still print things—there's something about working a problem out with a pencil in your hand that just feels different. Opening the laptop, I pull up my online textbook account and click to the first page ofThe Fundamentals of Calculus.Then I arrange my notebook, papers, and pencils in front of me, just for good measure.
Blake says, "It's four-oh-one now. You're late."
"I wouldn't have been if you'd kept your opinion on my late grandfather's dental hygiene to yourself."
"Or maybe you would be late regardless. Guess we'll never know." There's something about the way he looks at me that goes right to the center of my body. "You sure you want to do this?"
"What—study? I kind of have to one way or another. Unless you're thinking that you'll get rid of me faster by encouraging me to fail out."
"I don't think it'd take much encouragement for that to happen."
"Hey!" I frown at him indignantly. "I've been getting my grades up."
"It'll take more than slightly better grades for you to pass. But that's not what I was talking about. Are you sure you want to go after Hass like this?"
His words stir nothing but confusion in me. "Are you... worried? No way."
The frown that turns down the corners of his mouth is so much like his famous father's infamous blue steel gaze that my stomach does a flip flop. I was never a Jake Garrison fangirl, but sitting across from Blake like this, I'm starting to understand the appeal of an intense stare combined with a steepled brow.
"It's not you I'm worried about as much as the mission. Messing up your grades is one thing. This is so much bigger than you know."
"Then tell me." Frustration wells up inside me. "Whatever it is that I don't know, just tell me already, and then I won't be in the dark anymore."
"And give you satisfaction? Never." His coy, sadistic eyebrow arch ends the resemblance to his movie star father completely. "I'm just wondering if you have what it takes to get this done. Because someone like Hass can't be taken down unless you're truly committed."
"It's everything I want. Also, I have to point out that I did a pretty damn good job exposing you publicly for your temper."
"Didn't someone send that to you unprompted?"
I flush, wondering how he knows that. "I did my research. I put out feelers on all the right Korean news sites to get information. Just because the source came to me doesn't mean it took no effort."
"This is different, though. You can't get Hass arrested from behind a laptop screen."
"I'll do it anyway. What do I have to lose?"
Looking at me like he's really seeing me for the first time, Blake says, "Apparently nothing."
Then he flips open his study materials and starts to drill me on equations and formulas without even missing a beat. Flustered from our conversation, it takes me a few missteps before I get on track and manage to answer him, but after a while I get into a roll. I start to answer questions correctly, come up with ways to solve problems on my own, and manage to memorize a few things just in the minutes it takes Blake to quiz me on them.
By the end of the tutoring session, he almost looks impressed. As I gather up my things to go, I'm more than a little proud of myself for managing to get through an entire hour alone with Blake Lee without completely making a fool of myself. Maybe Iwillmanage to pass my finals—or even better, ace them.
As I'm starting for the door, though, Blake stops me, a slightly irritated expression on his face. "Wait. It's getting dark out."