I swipe higher on my neck and peer at my fingers, finding a faint pink sparkly tint smearing them.
Fucking hell.
I let out an uneasy laugh, then excuse myself to the restroom to wash off Adrianna’s lingering lip gloss, damning everything to hell.
Eleven
Tutor
I walk into the anatomy lecture hall to find just Delilah in her seat. There’s about ten minutes until class starts, and I’m sort of relieved that Olivia isn’t here yet. After she noticed Adrianna’s lipstick on my neck, I could sense the lingering, awkward tension between us. I’ve been mortified ever since.
I almost didn’t show up to class today, but I figured that was the cowardly thing to do, and it could potentially worsen the situation.
“Hey, Dee,” I greet Delilah, who has her nose shoved in a textbook.
“Hey,” she says, peeling her eyes away from her book to greet me properly. “How are you?”
I give her a shrug of indifference. “All right.”
She frowns. “You didn’t do so hot on the test, did you?”
I’m taken aback by her blunt question. “Uhh,” I stall awkwardly, scratching the back of my neck. “Not the best, I guess.”
She nods. “Quinton was pretty insistent about it, and you quickly shoving your test in your backpack was kind of a giveaway,” she says with a wry smile.
At the mention of Rat Boy my fists involuntarily clench. I knew he would be an asshole about it.
“So, how bad was it?” Delilah asks cautiously, surprisingly not in a condescending way. She asks out of genuine concern, like a friend would.
I let out a groan of agony and contemplate if I should tell her or not.
Sensing that I must be on the fence, she speaks up. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but just know I won’t tell anyone,” she says sincerely. “Especially not Quinton. I can tell you two don’t exactly get along.”
“You got that right,” I mumble. After a few beats, I let out a sigh. “It wasn’t necessarily a complete crash and burn, but let’s just say there were some major damages,” I confess, willing to trust her.
She purses her lips together and nods. “Well, you know who’s a great tutor? Olivia.” A small, knowing smile spreads across her face. “Just ask and she’ll be more than willing to help you.”
I try my best to suppress a smile. While that does seem tempting, a part of my ego is telling me not to ask Olivia. But then again, it would be a good excuse to spend more time with her . . .
“I’ll think about it,” I tell Delilah, and she flashes me another knowing smile, one that says she knows I’ll eventually cave and ask Olivia to tutor me.
We sit in silence for a few moments, more students filing in. I know I only have moments left, and something inside me can’t bite back my curiosity, so I just come right out and say it. “Can I ask you something?”
She carelessly shrugs a shoulder. “Go for it.”
I twist in my seat to face her directly, one elbow resting on the back of my chair while the other is planted on the desk. “What’s up with Ra—Quinton?” I quickly correct myself.
Delilah doesn’t even flinch at my question; it’s almost as if she’s been expecting it. With a sigh, she looks over both shoulders before leaning in to whisper to me. Instinctively, I lean in to hear her and give her my undivided attention. Her lips twist to the side as she contemplates how to begin. “Quinton has a pretty big crush on Olivia.”
“I’ve gathered that much,” I mutter, and she shoots me a look that tells me to shut up and listen.
“He’s had a crush on her since freshman year, but Olivia has never reciprocated those feelings.” She pauses, looking contemplative. “When Olivia told him she couldn’t be with him, he took it really hard. At one point I honestly thought Olivia was going to cave and just date him because she felt so bad, but I told her that would only make the situation worse. Not to mention make her miserable.”
My fists involuntarily clench. From what Olivia told me that day in the cafeteria, I already knew Rat Boy hadn’t taken her rejection well and that she felt guilty about it, but I didn’t know how bad the situation really was.
Delilah opens her mouth as if to say more but quickly snaps it shut as her eyes dart to the door.
I look over my shoulder to spot Olivia walking into the classroom. Her hair tie is trapped between her teeth as her hands work to quickly scoop up her hair to redo her ponytail. Once her hair is secured, her eyes travel up to meet mine. I take in a sharp breath, staring into those sweet, warm brown eyes that have imprints around them from lab goggles.
