"There she is," Delilah said, stopping a few feet away, swaying just slightly on her heels. "The tutor. Cozy little spot you two found."
"Delilah." Rhys's voice had gone flat, the tone of someone trying to defuse something before it detonated. "You're drunk. Let's not do this."
"I'm not talking to you." She waved him off without even looking at him, eyes locked on me instead, glassy and bright with something that wasn't just alcohol. "I'm talking to her."
"There's nothing to talk about," I said.
"Oh, there's plenty to talk about." She took another step closer, and I could smell the drink on her from here, sweet and sharp. "You've been playing this whole quiet, sweet, ‘I don't want anything from anyone’ thing all semester, and everybody's buying it, but I see what you're actually doing.
