TUTORING THE BAD BOY

Chapter 9: Jealousy and Secret Notes

The rest of the school day dragged by in a blur of ticking clocks and whispered gossip. By the time fifth period rolled around, the entire senior class seemed to be treating the hallway like a spectator sport, eager to see what would happen next between Lydia, George, and Ethan.

​True to his word, Ethan sent over the regional debate briefs via email right after lunch. Lydia opened them on her tablet, quickly skimming through his notes. Tucked at the very bottom of the document was a short, polite message: “Hope your tutoring sessions aren’t too exhausting. Let me know if you ever need a real break, Lydia.”

​A small, appreciative smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Ethan was sweet, steady, and entirely safe. He represented the quiet, predictable future she had always planned for herself.

​So why couldn't she stop thinking about George’s hand on her arm, or the fierce, possessive look in his grey eyes when Ethan had asked her out for coffee?

​At 3:30 p.m. sharp, Lydia pushed open the heavy oak doors of the library and walked back to their usual secluded corner table.

​George was already there.

​He wasn't spinning a pen or slouching lazily today. Instead, he was sitting straight up, staring darkly at the open calculus book, his jaw clenched tight enough to shatter glass. The moment he heard her footsteps, his head snapped up, his stormy eyes locking onto hers.

​Lydia pulled out her chair and sat down, dropping her binder onto the table with a soft thud. "You look like you're ready to punch a wall, Sterling."

​"Did he email you?" George asked, bypassing any greeting entirely. His voice was low, laced with an aggressive edge that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

​Lydia blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Who?"

​"Cole," George snapped, leaning forward across the table. "Did he send the debate briefs?"

​Lydia crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "Good afternoon to you too, George. And yes, he did. They're very thorough."

​George’s hands balled into tight fists on top of the wooden table. "Did he say anything else? Did he ask you out again?"

​The raw, unfiltered jealousy radiating off of him was so blatant it was almost shocking. For a guy who had spent three years pretending she didn't exist to protect her, he was suddenly doing a terrible job of hiding how deeply he cared about anyone else looking her way.

​"You're acting ridiculous," Lydia said, though her heart fluttered wildly against her ribs. "Ethan is my friend. He's kind, he's respectful, and he doesn't interrogate people."

​"He doesn't know what you need," George shot back instantly, his voice dropping into a rough, husky whisper that sent a shiver straight down her spine. "He doesn't know the real you, Lydia. He only sees the top-of-the-class, rule-following student council president. He doesn't know the girl who used to sneak out to watch the summer meteor showers with me."

​The words hit Lydia like a physical blow. The air in the quiet library suddenly felt thin and charged. Memories of those long-ago summer nights—lying on a scratchy old quilt under a canopy of stars, sharing secrets and laughter before everything fell apart—flashed behind her eyelids.

​"You don't get to bring up the past, George," Lydia whispered, her voice trembling slightly as she looked away. "You're the one who buried it."

​George went entirely still. The harsh anger melted away from his face, replaced by a sudden, aching vulnerability.

​Slowly, he reached across the table. His warm fingers brushed against her knuckles, gently uncurling her tightly clenched hand. He didn't say a word, but his thumb traced slow, deliberate circles against her palm.

​"I buried it to keep you safe," George whispered, his gaze searching her face with an intensity that took her breath away. "Every single day for the past three years, I regretted it. I'm not letting anyone else take my place by your side now. Not Ethan Cole, not anyone."

​Lydia looked down at their joined hands, her pulse racing a mile a minute. The walls she had built up over three years of heartbreak were crumbling down, piece by piece, right in front of her.

​Before she could answer, a sharp clearing of a throat echoed down the aisle.

​They both jerked apart. Standing at the end of the shelf, holding a stack of overdue library books with a smirk on her face, was Chloe Montgomery.

​"Am I interrupting your little study date... again?" Chloe purred, her eyes darting between them with malicious delight. "Because Principal Hayes wants to see you in his office right now, George. And trust me, you're not going to like what it's about."