I take a slurp from my coffee. “You have more time,” I remind him. “It’s not over until the fat lady sings…” I narrow my eyes. No that’s not right. “Well, in this case the fat lady would be your father.”
He smiles, and he must catch the momentary lapse of happiness towards me because his lips downturn quickly. He closes off the conversation with the shift of his body.
We’re still fighting apparently.
“Where’s Rose?” Sebastian asks, lighting another cigarette.
Connor stares at it, letting irritation cross his face, his chest inflating with a deep inhale. “She’s taking a final, and you shouldn’t be smoking in here.”
“And yet…” Sebastian blows out a short puff. “I am.”
Lo’s phone rings, and he slips into the kitchen to answer his cell.
Connor steps towards Sebastian, and my evil tutor suddenly springs from his chair, both guys standing their ground with superiority. They each believe they’re better than the other. I’m not accustomed to intellectual stand-offs.
Sebastian appraises the cigarette in his fingers. “She hardly cares if I smoke, you know. If you did it, she’d drop you like she did her last boyfriend. She found a pack of cigarettes in his coat pocket. Next day, he was gone. Lasted one taxingly long week.”
“You planted the cigarettes on him, didn’t you?”
Sebastian takes a long drag and breathes the smoke right into Connor’s face. “Perceptive.”
Connor doesn’t even flinch. “Maybe you should be.”
Sebastian lets out a laugh. “You don’t think I am? I know that Rose has spent almost no time with you since Calloway Couture has suffered. I know that she cried on my shoulder two nights ago, not yours. I know that she called me, not you, to help pack up her office.”
She already started boxing her workplace?
“You feel threatened by me,” Connor states, stepping forward so only a small space separates his body from Sebastian’s. Connor has the height advantage—he usually does.
“By Connor Cobalt? A guy who is willing to sell out anyone if the benefit weighs on his side. No, I am not threatened by you. I just hate you.” Sebastian gives him a long once over. “Rose always did too. I don’t know what you said that changed her mind.”
“She never hated me,” Connor says casually.
“She bitched about you all the time in prep school. She’d return from Model UN, and I’d have to listen to her drone on about how Richard made a treaty against her country’s best interests. How Richard won the highest honor for countering terrorist actions.” Model UN sounds mildly intense and slightly scary.
“For such a smart guy, you really know nothing,” Connor says, his voice even-tempered. “She liked me, Sebastian. She bitched to you because she was attracted to me, a guy that riled her more than placated her, and that pissed her off.” Connor steals the cigarette from his fingers. “And if you truly cared for that girl, you’d realize that every time you smoke in this house, you set off her OCD.”
Sebastian’s lip twitches.
“You didn’t know that, did you?” Connor says. “While she cries on your shoulder about her company, yesterday she stayed the night at my apartment. And I spent four fucking hours calming her down because you put wild ideas in her head. You smoke, you mess with her things, and you return her to me restless. She paces back and forth, muttering idioms that make no sense, and I have to figure out how to put her back together. You are not a friend to her; you’re a parasite.”
I drop my pastry on my lap.
Sebastian is left speechless, his lips pressed tightly together.
Connor won this round. But when Rose enters the mix, I just hope he’s able to win the whole battle.
After Connor snuffs out the cigarette on his empty cup, he masterfully bottles his annoyance towards Sebastian, and his eyes fall to the scattered scantrons. “You should be taking those in a quiet testing environment, preferably somewhere clean.” His collects the gum wrappers, and Sebastian’s crinkled magazines, tossing them in a nearby trash bin.
“She’s fine,” Sebastian says, finding his voice again.
“What are you even doing here?” Connor asks. “If Lily’s taking her finals, she doesn’t need to be tutored anymore.”
“I’m monitoring the exams so she doesn’t cheat,” he lies. I want to snort, given the fact that minutes ago he offered to bubble-in my finals for me.
“I can do that,” Connor says. “Go propagate cancer somewhere else.” He takes a seat next to me—right on the same cushion where I buried the tests.
I hear the crunch and the crackle of papers, muffled but still distinguishable. I close my eyes and count to five in my head. This cannot be happening.
“Lily,” Connor says tensely, “am I sitting on porn?”
What?! I open one eye and meet Connor’s gaze. I expect him to be calm in the normal I’m-Connor-Cobalt-and-I-don’t-show-real-emotions kind of way. Instead, he wears disappointment fairly well. This is the moment where I can either out myself as a somewhat-cheater or take the hit for stashing porn. There’s no contest.
I spent days without self-love or any kind of sex from Lo, trying desperately to return to good faith with him. All of that will be squandered in one moment if he thinks it’s dirty mags. And I’m so sick of lying.
“It’s not porn,” I confess.
Connor stands and lifts up the cushion. He stares at the papers, the top exam with a random name (Jeremy Gore) and a letter grade (A-).
He shakes his head. “I knew it,” he says rather calmly, adding all the pieces together so easily. Must be a smart-person trait. I bet Sherlock Holmes was a certified genius.
Sebastian rolls his eyes and takes out his phone, as if this is all very dull for him, but I imagine that Connor has him shaking internally, a few more moves away from dethroning him in Rose’s life.
I gather up the tests before Connor tries to toss them out. I still have finals to take. “I can explain,” I say as I straighten out the papers on my lap.
He returns the cushion to its original state, and before I can offer an explanation, the front door swings open.
“Just because the bike can reach a hundred-fifty, doesn’t mean you should go that fucking fast. You nearly cut off a car behind you.”
“You’re exaggerating,” Daisy says.
“He honked at you.”
“Or he honked at you. You were riding my brake lights.”
“I was ten fucking feet behind you, and next time, I’m taking you to a race track.”
“Really?” I can hear the smile behind the word.
“Yeah, if you want to fucking kill yourself, at least you won’t cause a five-car pileup while you’re doing it.”
When they walk into the living room, Daisy is smiling from ear to ear. Both carry motorcycle helmets under their arms, reminding me that Ryke agreed to Daisy’s offer. About a week ago, he told her he would keep the black Ducati in return for teaching her how to ride safely, which must be a hard job with Daisy as a pupil.
“You were supposed to tutor her,” Connor says to Sebastian, actual anger seething in his eyes. It’s kind of terrifying.
Ryke and Daisy go quiet by the staircase, realizing they walked in on a…situation.
Sebastian pockets his phone in his blazer. “You and I both know that one is a lost cause. I did her a favor.”
“She doesn’t need another handout.” He invades Sebastian’s space again. “You’re a lazy sanctimonious prick who profits off of apathetic trust fund babies. The students who need those exams are the ones who can’t afford them. You knowingly perpetuate a repugnant cycle.” He stares at him like he’s shit on the bottom of his shoe. “You keep the rich kids stupid and the poor kids poor.”