The bell rang. I gathered my things and hightailed it from the room before Tyson could talk to me. I ignored him when he called my name. Instead, I pushed through the door and out into the throng of people. I needed to get as far away from him as I possibly could.

I must have lost him in the crowd because he never caught up to me. I spent the rest of school trying to ignore just how painful it felt to watch him flirt with Tammy. I felt betrayed. I wasn’t sure why, but the ache in my chest told me I’d been a fool.

There was no way Tyson had any feelings for me, and I was an idiot to have hoped he might.

When the final bell rang, I pulled out my phone to see I had a few missed messages.

One was from Rebecca, saying she was going to be a few minutes late to Pep Group. One was from my dad, reminding me that I was expected to go straight to Mr. Dominic’s room for Pep Group. He even used the phrase, “no shenanigans.”

And one was from Tyson.

I swallowed as my finger hovered over his message. I could read the first few words.

Tyson: Tiny. Got your text…

Did I want to open it? Did I want to read what he said? Had he noticed that I had pulled away—that I wasn’t some doe-eyed girl anymore.

I took a deep breath and pressed on the trashcan instead. I didn’t want to know what he said. I wanted to forget that I’d put my guard down for him. That I had lied to my dad for him.

It was better to be alone than hurt, that’s what my dad had taught me. I hadn’t realized until this moment how true those words were. Tyson had convinced me that I was special. That he wanted to be around me. It had all been a ruse. An easy way to get an A, and I fell for it.

Man, I was a fool.

I pulled open the door to Mr. Dominic’s room and stepped inside. Samson and Jessica were sitting at one of the art tables, talking and laughing. I’d known them since kindergarten. They were nerdy, like me. And they both wanted to go to Harvard, so had joined as many after school activities as they could.

They couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn, but they were enthusiastic and here. And I was seriously lacking for volunteers. With the first big game of the school year coming up, we needed all hands on deck.

I dropped my bag down on the table with a thud. Samson and Jessica turned toward me and smiled.

“Hey, Destiny. Have a good summer?” Samson asked. He pushed his glasses farther up his nose as he studied me. He had bright red hair that stuck up in odd directions, and his pale skin was covered with freckles.

I nodded. “Uneventful. Thankfully, my dad let me stay home instead of go to all those football camps.”

Both Samson and Jessica nodded as if they understood my plight. They didn’t. But it was nice of them to try.

Mr. Dominic walked in, halting our conversation. He nodded to us and then made his way to the back art closet and disappeared into it. I think Mr. Dominic was forced to be the advisor of the Pep Group. According to my dad, every teacher needed a group to lead and everyone figured that Mr. Dominic would be perfect for us.

Except, he wasn’t thrilled to be stuck monitoring the four of us while we painted signs and planned activities that would help pump up the school for all the sports events. Most meetings, he just stayed in the art closet, planning lessons or rearranging paintbrushes.

“Bec coming?” Jessica asked, reaching up to tighten her ponytail.

I nodded and pulled out my notebook where I’d doodled some designs for the posters we could make. “Yeah. She had some cheer stuff to take care of, and then she’ll be here.” I was so thankful that my best friend had agreed to help me in Pep Group. She was beautiful and smart, and well above our social status. But she never made me feel like I was a burden, and wanted to help in anyway possible.

Plus, she could paint like a pro. It was her secret love. But her dad had informed her that she was headed to Harvard to get a law degree and eventually take over his firm. Lucky her.

They nodded and then stood and made their way over to the large paper rolls that lined the far wall. After ripping off a few pieces, we laid them out on a table, and I showed them my sketches.

About halfway through painting “One DREAM One TEAM” on the banner meant for the lunchroom, Rebecca rushed into the room. I smiled at her, using my wrist to push away the hair that had slipped from my bun.

“Glad you could join us,” I said.

She smiled over at me, but it didn’t have the normal breezy feel. She seemed stressed. I quirked an eyebrow, but she shrugged it off. I’d talk to her once we were done here. She probably didn’t want to broadcast her issues in front of Samson and Jessica.

We spent the rest of the hour painting and listening to some Celtic music that Samson said we just had to hear. It was loud and upbeat. It wasn’t my cup of tea, but it helped distract me from what had happened with Tyson earlier and right then, I needed that.

Once the paintbrushes were rinsed and drying, Samson and Jessica left me and Rebecca to wait for the banner to dry enough for us to move it. I grabbed the bag of cookies I’d bought during lunch and motioned toward it. Rebecca nodded, and we ate half the bag before she sighed.

“What do you think of Colten?”

A cookie crumb flew to the back of my throat. I coughed and wheezed, pounding my chest. Rebecca raised her eyebrows, and I shook my head. After a few seconds, the tickle subsided, so I reached over, grabbed my water bottle, and took a sip.

“Colten? As in the school dropout?”

She wrapped her hair around her finger and got a far off look in her eye. I’d never seen her act this way about a guy. Ever.

“I would say I wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up in juvie by the end of the year.” Why was my friend acting all bashful about the school bad boy? Was she crazy?

She paused for a moment before she nodded and sat up even farther on her stool, propping her feet up on a nearby table. “You’re right. I’m being stupid.” She tucked her hands under her knees as she leaned forward.

I studied her, wanting to ask her to elaborate. But she didn’t look like she wanted to, so I decided to drop it. I reached out and gingerly touched the globby paint on the “O”. It was dry.

“Let’s go hang this bad boy up, and then we can get out of here,” I said, hopping off the barstool and waving over at her.

She smiled and followed suit.

We rolled it up, grabbed some of the heavy-duty tape, and made our way toward the walkway that ran across the top of the lunchroom. We stopped at the railing and lifted the banner over. I held onto one side as Rebecca unrolled it. I’d just placed the first bit of tape when someone cleared their throat behind me.

I ignored it as I ripped off another chunk of tape. It wasn’t for me. Who would want to talk to me? Bec was already here, and she was the only one in this school who ever took the time to acknowledge me.

I moved to place the tape over the previous piece, but it folded in on itself. I groaned as I shook it, hoping it would magically unstick. More edges stuck together, and it was completely unusable.

“Here,” Tyson said.

I jumped as I turned to see him standing behind me with a piece of tape. He had on a comical expression as he motioned toward the ruined piece in my hand.

My heart picked up speed, but I instantly shushed it. I couldn’t be having these feelings for him. That was ridiculous. How could I have forgotten what had happened in Chemistry earlier?

But I needed the tape. I reached out, keeping one hand on the corner of the banner. “Thank you,” I said, hoping I came across as relaxed and not like the nervous wreck I felt.

He extended it to me, and once my side was secured, I turned to him. Why did he have to look so good with his damp hair and incredibly tight jeans? Whoever had created them knew what they were doing. They looked like they were designed just for him.

And then I realized I was staring at his pants.

Heat raced to my cheeks as I turned and secured the banner with one more strip of tape. I made my way down the railing, taping as I went.

I wanted to talk to him, but I was worried that after a few words from Tyson, I’d forget my resolve and find myself doing his English homework as well. So I ignored him. What else was I supposed to do?

“Did you get my text?”

My skin burned. He was right next to me.

“No,” I said. Truth was, I’d shut my phone off. I didn’t want to obsess over every ring, wondering if it was a message from him.

“Huh, I swear I sent it.” From the corner of my eye, I saw him reach down and pull his phone from his back pocket. He looked something over and then returned it. “Yeah, I sent it. That’s weird that you didn’t get it.”

I cleared my throat. “I actually turned my phone off.”

“Oh.”

When I got to Rebecca’s end, I found her leaning against the railing with an amused expression as she watched us.

“Hey, Tyson,” she said, nodding toward him and then meeting my gaze and widening her eyes.

I pursed my lips, hoping she’d act cool. “Hey, Becca. Excited for the game on Friday?”

She nodded and waved toward the banner. “Can’t you tell?”

Tyson leaned over the railing and then glanced at me. “Great sign.”

A laugh escaped my lips. Was he serious? I doubted that in the two years I’d been president of the Pep Group, he’d even once looked at the signs we made. Why was he being nice to me? After his flirting escapade with Tammy, I was surprised he even remembered my name. And that thought hurt. A lot.

“Where’s Tammy?” blurted from my lips.

Tyson’s eyebrows rose as he studied me. “I’m not sure. Becca would probably know better.” A confused expression passed over his face. “Are you guys friends?”

I snorted and grabbed the tape that Rebecca held in her hands and then turned to her. “I’m going back to Mr. Dominic’s room. Thanks for helping.” I passed by her and whispered, “I’ll call you.”

She nodded, said goodbye to Tyson, and made her way down the stairs.

I blew out my breath as I walked toward the art room. I was going to grab my backpack, walk home, and try to never think of Tyson Blake again.

But from the sound of Tyson’s footsteps behind me, he wasn’t going to leave me alone.

“Hey, are you okay?”

I felt his hand surround my elbow. He pulled on it, signaling me to stop. I hesitated but then complied. I didn’t want to talk about it, but I also didn’t like the way I was treating him. He didn’t know that he’d done anything wrong. Who was I to tell him who he could talk to? We weren’t even friends. I was the idiot who was making a big deal of it.

So I forced a smile and met his gaze. “Sorry. I’m just having a really bad day.”

A look of concern passed over his face. I didn’t know how to read it. Was it sincere? Or did he know what to do to calm down an emotional girl and get her to do what he wanted? I’d heard the stories. Girls were pretty much powerless when it came to Tyson. And from looking at the way his brow furrowed and his gaze softened, I was beginning to realize why.

“I’m sorry. I hope it wasn’t because of anything I did.”

I scoffed as I pushed open the art room door. The lights were out, which meant Mr. Dominic was gone. Relief flooded my chest. I was sure he wouldn’t tattle on me to my dad, but I didn’t want to risk it. It was better if only Rebecca knew that Tyson and I were talking.

I flipped on the light, walked over to the Pep Group’s supply tote, and dropped the tape into it. I snapped on the lid and dragged it toward the edge of the table. I tensed as I pulled it, anticipating its weight, but then two arms wrapped around me.

“Let me,” he said. His fingers brushed mine as he grabbed the handles.

My heart pounded so hard, I could hear it in my ears. My mind felt so muddled that I couldn’t really come up with a reason for him not to help. So I swallowed as I dipped down and stepped away from him.

He lifted the tote like it weighed next to nothing. I tried to ignore how his muscles flexed. I pulled my gaze upward when he glanced over at me. “Where do you want it?”

“Over there,” I said, motioning toward the shelves along the back wall.

He nodded as he walked over and slid it into its spot. I hugged my chest. The memory of his arms wrapped around me felt burned on my skin. What was he doing here? Why was I letting my guard down?

Things never went well when Tyson Blake was involved. Hadn’t I heard all the rumors that went around about him? He was a player. Dated girls and dumped them. Why was I so certain that he wasn’t going to treat me the same?

Ugh. What was the matter with me? I wasn’t dating Tyson. I was his tutor. His TUTOR. Why did I keep forgetting that?

He brushed his hands against each other and turned, shooting me one of his signature smiles. “So, now that’s put away, is there anything else you need to do, or are you ready to get started?”

I swallowed as I studied him. I could do this. I could help him out. After all, I was a smart girl. I could keep my wits about me as I helped him pass Chemistry. So I forced a confident smile and nodded. “Sure. Where do you want to go?” I walked over and grabbed my backpack. “Your house?”

“No.”

I turned. He’d said that fast and with more force than normal.

He looked sheepish as he shook his head. “I mean, no.” Then he scrubbed his face with his hand. “And I’m guessing your place is off limits.”

I laughed. Oh, he was funny. “Yeah, probably not a good idea. My dad would freak if I brought a boy home. And if that boy was you?” I sucked in some air. “If you have a death wish, then we can go there.”

He laughed as he shouldered his backpack. “I kind of want to live, so…”

Hmm, a place to go. An idea floated into my mind. Hopefully, he wouldn’t think I was dorky.

“Come on, I might know of a place,” I said, throwing caution to the wind and waving at him to follow.