THE BOY I WAS SENT TO DESTROY

5.

Chapter 5: Session

Zara POV

I sat at the back table in the library exactly where the dean’s email said to wait. My notebook lay open with algebra problems copied out in neat rows. I had spent the night before reviewing the material so I would not look unprepared. The plan was simple. Show up, do the job, ask the right questions, and start building the map I needed of Zane’s world. The bullying still buzzed around me every day but it felt smaller now. Background noise. I had seen the portrait. I knew whose son I was dealing with.

Footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor. Heavy. Annoyed. I kept my pen moving until they stopped right beside the table. Then I looked up.

Zane stood there with his bag slung over one shoulder and his jaw already tight. His eyes landed on me and widened for half a second before the anger slammed back in. He dropped the bag hard enough that it knocked my pencil case sideways.

“You’ve got to be f*****g kidding me. You’re my tutor?”

I capped my pen and set it down. “Looks that way.”

He pulled out the chair across from me and dropped into it like the wood had personally offended him. His blazer was unbuttoned and his tie hung loose. Up close I could see the faint shadow under his eyes like he had not slept much. Good. Let him be off balance.

Zane shoved a textbook across the table. “Let’s get this over with. I do not want to be here any longer than I have to.”

“Fine by me.” I opened the book to the chapter they were on. “You failed the last quiz on quadratic equations. We should start there.”

He leaned back and crossed his arms. “I do not need a lecture from you.”

“Then solve this one.” I slid a fresh sheet of paper toward him with a problem already written at the top. “Show your work.”

He stared at the paper like it might bite him. For a minute I thought he would push it back and walk out. Instead he picked up a pen and started scratching numbers. His handwriting was messy and fast. I watched his face while he worked. The way his brow pulled together when he got stuck. The way his mouth pressed into a thin line. He hated this. Hated being forced. Hated that it was me sitting across from him.

After a couple of minutes he slid the paper back. “There.”

I checked it. Two steps were wrong. I circled them without saying anything and pushed it back. “Fix those.”

He snatched the paper and glared at my circles. “You enjoy this, don’t you?”

“Enjoy watching you fail basic math? Not really. But if you want to pass the class you need to fix it.”

Zane muttered something under his breath and started erasing. I let the silence sit for a while. Then I asked my first real question.

“So how does this work with your schedule? You miss a lot of classes. Does your dad get called in every time?”

He looked up sharply. “Why do you care?”

“I do not. Just making conversation while you fix your mistakes.”

He went back to the paper. “My dad does not get called. He gets emailed. Then he emails the dean. Then I get the lecture at home. Same thing every time.”

I nodded like it was nothing important. Inside I filed the detail away. Richard Hartwell kept close tabs. That could be useful.

Zane finished the corrections and shoved the paper at me again. This time it was right. I gave a small nod. “Better. Now try the next one on your own.”

He started working but his pen moved slower. I could tell he was thinking about something else. After another minute he spoke without looking up.

“You really do not care that half the school is talking s**t about you?”

I shrugged. “People talk. It passes.”

“Not here it does not.” He scratched out a number and rewrote it. “Celeste has a long memory. And I have not even started yet.”

I leaned forward a little. “Is that supposed to scare me? Because it is not working.”

His eyes flicked up to mine. Dark and sharp. “It should.”

We stared at each other across the table. The library felt quieter than it had a minute ago. I could hear my own pulse in my ears but I kept my face even. This was the game now. Push back just enough to keep him interested. Give him reasons to keep coming back to these sessions.

Zane broke first and went back to the problem. “You talk a big game for someone who wipes yogurt off her chair every other day.”

“Better than spending my time putting it there,” I said.

He gave a short laugh that sounded surprised. “You really think you are different from every other girl who walks through those doors?”

“I know I am.”

He finished the second problem and slid it over. I checked it. Mostly correct. I pointed out one small mistake and watched him fix it without arguing this time. Progress. Small, but there.

I decided to push a little further. “Your sister comes to the library a lot. She seems nice.”

Zane’s pen stopped moving. “Leave Priya out of this.”

“I was not bringing her into anything. Just saying she seems cool.”

He looked at me for a long second. “She is. And she does not need to hear about any of the crap that goes on in the halls.”

I nodded once. “Fair enough.”

We worked through two more problems. The hostility stayed but it felt different now. Like it had edges I could work with. Every time he got stuck I explained the step without talking down to him. He listened even when he pretended not to. By the end of the hour his shoulders had loosened just a fraction.

I closed the textbook. “That is enough for today. Same time Thursday?”

Zane shoved his stuff into his bag. “If I have to.”

“You do if you want to keep the car and the cards.”

He paused with his hand on the zipper. “You know about that?”

“Word gets around.”

He stood up and slung the bag over his shoulder. For a second he just looked at me. Not the cold bully stare from the corridor. Something closer to curiosity mixed with frustration. “Why the hell are you even doing this? Tutoring me. Taking the s**t in the halls. You could have asked for a different assignment.”

I stood too and gathered my things. “Maybe I like a challenge.”

His mouth twitched. “You are going to regret saying that.”

I met his eyes straight on. “Try me.”

He stepped around the table until he was close enough that I had to tilt my head back a little. His voice dropped low. “You are enjoying this way too much, Collins. Careful. I bite back harder when I am cornered.”

The words sent a small shiver across my skin but I did not let it show. I held his stare and kept my voice steady.

“Bring it.”