Hannah
I leave the lecture hall before Professor Starkie goes to have her chat with Big D. She asks me if it’s okay for her to pass on my cellphone number and I agree. Now I feel as though I’m walking around with an unexploded bomb in my purse. My iPhone could go off at any second and the thought fills my stomach with butterflies.
Andie is waiting for me with her eyebrow close to her hairline again.
“What did she say?” she asks, walking with me as we make our way to the cafeteria as we always do on a Monday.
“You are looking at the official tutor for a certain football player,” I say. My voice sounds a little higher pitched than normal, evidence that I’m not totally at peace with what is happening.
“Oh my god,” Andie says. “Is that why he came into class?”
“I guess he was failing at whatever he was doing.”
“But it isn’t an easy class,” she says, voicing my exact thoughts.
“I know. I have no idea what's going on behind the scenes. All I know is that I’m getting funded next semester for tutoring his ass into a pass grade so that he can stay on the team.”
“Wow. That’s fucking amazing.”
“Yeah,” I say, thinking about all the other things the money I’ll be earning can pay for. Things for Jenny. Maybe even a ticket home for a weekend. Just thinking about it makes my heart ache. “But what if he doesn’t pass?”
“He’s got you as a tutor. He’d have to be a serious dumb ass to fail.”
We look at each other and burst out laughing. “Maybe that’s why he’s called Big D,” Andie chuckles. “Maybe it has nothing to do with his dick.”
“His dick?” I say, in mock confusion. “I thought he was called Big D because he’s tall and his name is Dominic.”
“Ah, shut up.”
Andie grabs my arm and we head into the cafeteria for lunch. It’s while I’m digging into my high protein salad that my phone rings. I rustle around in my purse and see it’s a number I don’t recognize. It’s loud where we’re sitting. A group of frat-jerks are making a show of themselves at the next table so I cover my free ear and say, “Hello.”
“Hannah.” It’s him. I recognize the smooth deepness of his voice immediately.
“Dominic?”
“Yeah.” He pauses as if he’s nervous and I suddenly see the situation from his perspective. He’s flunking. Poor guy must be so embarrassed. “Professor Starkie gave me your number.”
“Sure. Yeah. She told me she would.”
“You free to meet? This feels weird talking like this.”
“I guess. I’m eating, but in half an hour? Outside the library?”
“Okay,” he says, sounding relieved.
We say bye in an awkward ‘I don’t know you and this is really weird' way, and then hang up. Andie is looking at me strangely.
“You like him,” she says.
“Oh, my god. Where the hell are you coming from with that?”
“I can tell.” She scrunches her button nose in concentration. “I think he’s going to be the one to get you to break your rule.”
“No way.”
“You’ll do it. You’ll crack,” she laughs, leaning back in her seat with a very satisfied look on her face. “Trust Auntie Andie. I know these things.”
I have to laugh at her because she’s right. She does generally know these things. It’s like she has a crystal ball for potential couples. She called out Jenna and Harrison way before they got together. There was no way I’d have predicted that match because their parents were married and Jenna had managed to convince us all that she found her stepbrother annoying. Yet here they are, going strong. And she’d mentioned that she thought Carrie and the twins were up to something. That one had baffled me even more, but not Andie.
To be honest, her prediction scares me. I’ve broken so many promises to myself in the past that I just can’t face the prospect of failing again. It’s not just me I have to think about either. Everything I do affects my family back home. They're counting on me. But a little part, the part that thinks about Big D when I’m in my bed at night, and the part that shivered when I caught him watching me, is just a tiny bit hopeful.
I’ve got great friends and a great life, despite some initial setbacks, but that doesn’t mean I’m not lonely.
I steer the conversation away from Big D and my potential future rule breaking and ask Andie to go over some of the stuff I didn’t fully catch from the lecture. When I’ve finished my salad and Andie’s done with her sandwich, we stow our trays and head outside. It’s a gorgeous day and I lift my face to the sun, soaking in the warmth.
“I’m going back to the dorms,” Andie says, starting to step backward in that direction. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
“You gotta stop that. I have the rule.” I don’t know who I’m trying to remind more, her or me.
“Rule shmule, baby,” she says grinning. “I’ll call you later for an update.”
It takes me five minutes to cross campus to the library. When I round the corner, I see Big D sitting on the stone steps that lead up to the grand glass entrance. He’s got his bag between his legs and he’s messing with his phone, brow furrowed. I hear the rumble of his voice but I can’t make out what he’s saying. It looks like he’s on FaceTime or something. My feet make a sound on the gravel and he looks up.
“I gotta go,” he says to whoever is on the other line.
“Okay,” a little voice says. It sounds like a kid but it could be a woman. At this distance, I can’t be sure. His girlfriend, maybe?
“Talk to you later,” Dominic says, looking back at the screen again and smiling quickly.
He stands, as I get closer, looking almost formal in a way that surprises me. I wasn’t expecting that at all.
“Hannah.” He moves his hand as though he's considering offering it out to shake mine, but he must see my surprise because he shoves them into his pockets.
“Hey,” I say.
“Thanks for coming out here.”
“It’s no trouble. I have a book to return anyway.”
“Oh, okay.”
There’s a moment's pause where it seems that neither of us really knows how we're supposed to do this. Awkward. Then he grabs his bag, unzipping it and pulling out a stack of papers.
“Starkie gave me these,” he says, handing them to me. I scan through and see that they are detailed notes from his missed lectures. That will make this easier. Easier but not easy. He may have the facts to learn but what he needs is the technique. The way to research source documents and cite them to form conclusions. How to judge the reliability of sources too, and how to structure the many essays he’s going to be required to produce. These are not easy things to impart to someone, particularly if they haven’t studied much history.
“That’s good,” I say.
His shoulders rise as he inhales a deep breath. “Look…” His eyes meet mine as he pauses and the impact of them hits me hard. It’s as though his pupils have exploded outwards to create eyes the color of onyx. They’re unnerving and sexy as hell, framed by dark lashes and soft looking brows. And that slightly crooked Roman nose is a killer. “…just…I know this is a big thing for you to do. So thanks.” He shifts his feet and looks over my shoulder as if this whole thing is painful.
I find I want to make him feel less awkward and that surprises me. From afar, Dominic Ramsey seems larger than life. A solid and indestructible force. But up close I see something different. Something that slips inside my heart and makes my throat tight. For a second I feel vulnerable like my whole psyche understands that this gorgeous man has the power to hurt me badly. Past pain rushes back and I swallow, trying to push thoughts of another dark-eyed man from my mind. I straighten my back and shrug as though none of this matters a damn. “Don’t think I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart,” I say. “I’m getting paid, and think of all the cred I’ll get if I can keep you on the team.”
For a second I think I see a flash of hurt, and he reaches out to take the papers back in a way that seems defensive. “Can we make a regular time and place?” he asks with no warmth in his voice.
“Sure. I’m pretty stacked most days but I can make Tuesday and Thursday evenings. We could meet here?”
“Would you be okay to come to my place? I’ll have practice first so I’ll need to go home to eat.”
The library would be more professional but if this is the only way I can get my scholarship money, then so be it. “Sure. Why don’t you text me the address? Is 8pm okay?”
Dominic nods as he stuffs the papers back into his bag. He looks like he wants to end the conversation and I feel bad for making him feel uncomfortable, even though I know that keeping a barrier between us is the only way I’m going to be able to protect myself.
“Can we start tomorrow?” he asks.
I try to recall if I have anything going on, but Tuesdays are usually downtime for me. “I can do tomorrow.”
He nods again. “See you then.”
I’m about to say bye, but he’s already started to walk away, making his way down the stairs and back in the direction I came from, his bag slung over his shoulder. I watch his retreating form, wondering what it is about him that makes me respond so emotionally. I guess that’s the funny thing about life. Thousands of people can pass you by on a daily basis and you don’t remember a thing about them, yet suddenly one individual can step into your eye-line and that’s it. They register.
That’s what Dominic has done. He seems to have forced his way into a part of me that I closed up years ago. The part that opens up at the beginning of a relationship, the part that is usually filled with hope. Except too many things have happened in my life, and now that hopeful place has been darkened with doubt and fear.
When he’s turned the corner, I head into the library and return my book. On my way back to my dorm my phone vibrates in my purse. Big D’s number flashes up. The message contains one sentence. His address and nothing else. I guess my tactic worked to push him away. I should be happy, so why do I feel so sad?