Page 50 of The Jack*ss in Class

Probably because in exactly seven minutes, I had myown verbal sparring match scheduled with Flynn Kingman.

After the way I’d dismissed him for ditching me for the Bowl with his family, which I knew was ridiculous of me, I’d thought things might be different between us. Because I was the one who made it weird.

The text exchange during the Bowl had been an olive branch I didn’t know I’d wanted. And yesterday in class, he’d acted completely normal, if you could call anything about Flynn Kingman normal. Still charming, still frustrating, still way too attractive for my peace of mind.

“The course of true love never did run smooth,” I muttered, then immediately wanted to smack myself. I was not in love with Flynn Kingman. I was barely tolerating him for the sake of my mother’s expectations that I tutor an athlete.

Even if he had been surprisingly sweet, and smart, and funny...

“Working on something interesting?”

I slammed my laptop closed so fast I nearly knocked over my coffee. Flynn stood there, looking unfairly gorgeous in a DSU Dragons hoodie and that smile that probably got him out of speeding tickets.

“Homework,” I said quickly. “Very boring homework.”

“Must be some homework.” He dropped into the chair across from me. “You were smiling at your screen.”

Had I been? Damn it.

“I was thinking about the donkey,” I lied. “He ate...something, and has the worst donkey farts right now.”

Flynn’s eyes lit up. “I would pay to see your face when you smelled that.”

“Oh, yes. I would very much like you in particular to get to smell Sir Ass-tronaut’s stink bombs.”

He laughed, and something warm unfurled in my chest. I squashed it immediately. Flynn Kingman did not need to know he could make me feel warm and fuzzy.

“Tempest, oh my god, what a coincidence.”

I closed my eyes briefly, praying I was hallucinating. But no, there was Parker, with Hannah right behind her, both wearing identical looks of faux surprise. I was being stalked by my own sorority sisters. And they were going to make my life hell.

“We were just talking about KATman,” Hannah said, pulling up a chair without being invited. “You know, the biggest social event of the KAT house year?”

“And wondering who our Tempest might bring,” Parker sing-songed oh so sweetly. “Since she’s been spending so much time with a certain football player...”

I was going to murder them both. Slowly. With their own KAT badges.

“Really?” He drew the word out way, way too long.

Flynn’s eyes darted between them and me. “I haven’t heard a thing about it.”

“Oh, it’s so much fun,” Hannah gushed. “Everyone dresses up, there’s a live band, we vote one of the senior’s boyfriends KATman of the year, and all the sisters are required to bring dates?—”

“We are not required to bring dates,” I cut in. “That’s not a thing.”

“It’s totally a thing,” Parker stage-whispered to Flynn. “She’s just being difficult.”

Flynn was watching this exchange with far too much interest. “Difficult? Our Tempest?”

Our Tempest? When did I become our anything?

“We should really start studying,” I said loudly. “That essay onTwelfth Nightisn’t going to write itself.”

“Right.” Parker’s grin was pure evil. “Studying. Very important. We’ll leave you to your... academic pursuits.”

But they didn’t leave. They went to a nearby table where they could very obviously watch us while pretending to be on their phones.

“So,” Flynn said after a moment. “KATman, huh?”

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