He grins, looking so happy that I feel guilty for almost telling him no.
Daniel talks about the movie on the way to The Higher Ground. Since I didn’t notice most of it, I have little to contribute, not that he seems to notice. I could be offended by this but instead see it as a relief. I’m not required to carry much of the conversation.
He remembers how I take my coffee—medium roast, room for cream and sugar—and orders mine with his. That’s thoughtful, right? Is it wrong that I have to ask myself?
We sit at a table by the window, and I see Tucker walking across the campus. He’s with a group of people, and he’s in the center. I recognize two of the guys from the party a couple of weeks ago. My heart seizes when I realize they are coming to The Higher Ground. What will he think about me sitting with Daniel? Then again, maybe he’ll be happy. He was the one who encouraged me to date him.
My frustration mushrooms. This is why I need rules. I know he cares something about me, but I can’t help thinking it’s more than just friendship. He never told me why he came over last night, and his comforting seemed to be more than that of just a friend.
Life is so freaking complicated. People make it even more so. Why can’t they just follow rules?
Daniel has stopped talking. His face is expressionless as he watches me, and I wonder what I’ve done or missed. A quick mental inventory reveals only one thing—my attention is at the door where Tucker came in, my gaze fixed on his group. My chest locks down, and I push against the panic that fills my head.
Why am I freaking out?
“You don’t have a thing for Tucker Price, huh?” Daniel asks, his voice cold.
Tucker’s face looks up from the pastry case at the sound of his name. His eyes widen when he sees me.
“Daniel,” I say as calmly as possible, willing my racing heart to slow down. “You know I tutor him.”
“Does that mean you have to check him out the minute he walks in the door?” he asks in a hateful tone. “I see the look on your face, Scarlett. You have a thing for Tucker Price just like every other slut in this school.”
Tucker’s face contorts into an expression I’ve never seen him wear. Cold rage. He’s next to our table in two seconds, looking at Daniel through narrowed eyes. “Is there a problem here, Bailey?”
Daniel stands and grabs his backpack. “I don’t see how it’s any of your fucking business.”
“It became my business when you brought my name into it.”
I’m in the middle of a nightmare. It has to be, because there’s no way I could be caught in something like this in real life.
Daniel shakes his head with a sneer. “So what? You’re an attention whore. You should love that I’m throwing your name around.”
Tucker’s jaw clenches. “I don’t give a fuck if you talk about me. But I do give a fuck how you’re talking to Scarlett.”
Disbelief sweeps across Daniel’s face. “You’ve got to be shitting me.” His gaze moves to me and back to Tucker. “You don’t think you fucked enough of the girls on campus? Now you’re going after the academic type? Or are you just interested in the girls I want to fuck?”
I don’t realize what’s happened until Daniel falls to the ground. He clutches his face as blood gushes from beneath his fingers. Tucker has just punched him.
Tucker leans over him and points. “If I ever hear you talking about Scarlett like that again, I’ll beat the living shit out of you. Got it?” His voice is cold and hard and scary.
Everyone stands around us in shock. Then their eyes turn to me.
I’m still in my seat, my mouth hanging open. My diaphragm is stuck, refusing to push up or pull in oxygen to fill my lungs.
Tucker’s face softens as he squats in front of me. “Let’s go.” He grabs my arm and pulls me up, picking up my bag with his other hand. Since my feet have forgotten how to move, he drags me outside and around the side of the building where the gawkers can’t see us. Pushing my back against the wall, he drops my bag to the ground and leans over into my face. “Scarlett, take a breath.”
I look up at him wide-eyed. My head is getting fuzzy.
He cups my jaw and his fingers softly stroke my cheek. “You’re safe now. No one is watching you. Just relax.”
His touch is magical because that’s the only explanation I can come up with that explains why my body responds to his commands. My lungs inflate as I close my eyes.
“I’m sorry.” His forehead leans against mine. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”
My eyelids flutter open to see despair on his face.