7. ARAN

CHAPTER 7

ARAN

W ell, well, well. I never imagined I'd get to know my tutor this intimately. But there, as a welcome sign the moment I step into the bathroom, is a bra that can only belong to Strawberry. The other girls are smaller.

I snort, and a laugh threatens to burst out.

Also never would've imagined her as a lace girl. Not that I've tried to picture what her underwear is like, but if I had to, I'd have said it would be some pink stuff. Possibly with strawberries for decoration. But this is some proper silk, lace, and wire, in a creamy color that would blend with her skin and make her look naked.

I clear my throat.

After that, I make a point of not looking at the garment again. But it's imprinted in my mind, and I happen to have top-notch spatial vision. I now know exactly how big her chest is. And I'm not sure I can wipe the knowledge from my mind.

After washing my hands with fruity soap, I close the bathroom door and am assaulted by chatter coming from the living room. I stand there for a second, staring at Strawberry's door. There was a shocking lack of the infamous fruit in the decor, and the whole space was filled with books. But it smelled similar to this hand soap. I don't know why I realize that now.

I lift my hand to my nose again and take a good whiff this time. And, of course, it's strawberry. The woman is obsessed.

"Dude, stop. You're doing the character dirty," Mark is saying to Archie as I walk back to the living room.

"Dirty how? I've played this game a million times before."

"Yeah, in your sleep." Mark snatches the control from the other guy. It doesn't seem to bother Archie, because when he leans back against the couch, he's right up against the girl he's into.

Jamal and Rebs handle the other control. The girl whispers something in his ear that makes his face shift from amused to ultra-competitive, as if he's on the ice, facing a Bulldog or something and not about to play some video game against Mark.

"You're back."

I pull my hands out of the pockets of my jeans, ready to push this Lori chick away bodily if I have to. But she's sitting on a barstool, legs crossed and facing me.

"Yeah, not for long," I say, glancing around her until I find my tutor.

"What do you me?—"

I tune out the rest of her question while striding around the kitchen island. I lean against the fridge and fold my arms. My tutor freezes in the middle of assembling a sandwich. Slowly, she glances up at me with wide eyes, like I caught her doing something wrong. And I have.

"Where's the meat?" I ask, momentarily distracted by the spread of food on the counter.

She blinks fast. "I'm vegetarian."

Clicking my tongue, I shake my head. "We can't be friends, Strawberry."

Her mouth flattens into a tight line for a second, but when she opens it to talk, someone else cuts in.

"Do you two know each other?"

I forgot whatsherface was also in the kitchen.

"No, we actually don't," Strawberry says quickly. Then she gives me a look I can't decipher.

"Hmm." I lean closer to her and lower my voice until only she can hear it. "Since we don't know each other, maybe I shouldn't warn you that your bra's hanging in the bathroom."

The gasp she draws is enough to capture the attention of everyone in the apartment. The knife she was using to spread mustard on the bread slices clatters to the floor as she makes a dash out of the kitchen. Her bunny slippers skid against the floor as she rounds the kitchen island.

She's faster than some of the newbies on the team.

I smack my hand against my mouth, but there's no hiding the shake in my shoulders. Archie cocks an eyebrow but has the decency to keep his yap shut. Or maybe his teasing game is off while he has a girl leaning against his arm.

"What's so funny?" Lori leans on the counter, presenting her cleavage as a trophy. She must've slid down the zipper of her sweatshirt in preparation for the move.

"If it had been for your ears, then you'd have heard it."

"Fine." She lifts a delicate shoulder. "I'll get it out of Maddie."

A door slams shut, and then a second one does in quick succession. Stomps echo out of the hallway, and Strawberry appears again, huffing like a beast about to charge.

Ah, shit. I want to laugh.

Her eyes narrow, as if she can read my mind.

"Maddie, are you okay?" Lori swivels the stool around. "I've told you; you need to exercise more so you don't run out of breath so easily."

Tutor-girl cuts a fierce glare at the head honcho that tells me these two aren't friends.

I check my phone. I'll stick around for exactly ten minutes more of this awkward mess, but then I'll I peace out. The guys are sufficiently installed here. They don't need me anymore. I might have considered investing five more minutes in giving my tutor crap if this chick didn't make me grind my molars.

Speaking of, Strawberry picks up the fallen knife and tosses it into the sink. She stops to regard me with vaguely murderous eyes and speaks through gritted teeth. "If I make you a sandwich, will that shut you up about this little incident for the rest of our lives?"

I mull it over. The salad at O'Malley's was more lettuce than anything else, which was disappointing, because the burger and fries were already not filling enough. I could do with a snack.

"Not a vegetarian one, though."

"There's"—Strawberry grimaces—"ham in the fridge."

"Deal."

"So, you two do know each other." The obnoxious voice sounds right behind me now. "From where?"

Strawberry expels a deep sigh. "We only just met today at?—"

"School," I finish with a cutting tone and a warning glance. Strawberry clamps her mouth shut, and her forehead creases, but fortunately, she leaves it at that.

"Really?" Lori checks me with her hips to squeeze into the tight space between the kitchen island and where I stand beside Strawberry. "That's so funny, because Maddie studies English, but you're in accounting."

"How do you know that?" I frown.

"Dude, everyone knows that," Jamal calls out from the living room. Apparently, the game isn't as interesting as this conversation. "In fact, everyone at school knows your height, blood type, and girl type."

"Especially the latter," Archie chimes in.

"Exactly." Lori sweeps her eyes down my body. "Especially the latter." She curves her lips in a way that makes it clear she thinks she's my type.

I turn back to Strawberry and say, "Hold the mayo."

She narrows her eyes at me. "Please."

"Please," I add.

For the first time since I opened her bedroom door, she smiles. Too quickly, she shifts the full power of it down at the second sandwich she's making. It's like she enjoys putting me in my place. But I don't mind, because I'm getting a free sandwich out of the deal.

"It's so good you're finally making friends, Maddie," the other girl continues, as if we were paying attention to her in the first place. "You can't keep being a little cave troll forever, you know? Even if you often do look like one. Those sweats just don't do you any favors."

Strawberry stills. Her grip on the knife tightens so much her fist shakes.

"Aran." Her voice comes out tight. "Your sandwich is done. Just put the ham in it, okay?"

Strawberry tears a piece of paper towel from the roll and slaps it on her sandwich. Glaring both at me and at the other girl, she picks up her plate and a steaming mug, then squeezes past us out of the kitchen. I watch her go until she disappears into the hallway.

There's a whole lot of silence in the apartment, aside from the pew-pew of the video game.

Since I'm not a total monster, I close the lid on the mayo and bag up the rest of the tomatoes and lettuce. I have no idea where they go in the fridge, but better in the wrong place than rotten. I find the sliced deli ham on top of a carton of eggs and set out to follow Strawberry's instructions.

"Sorry about that." Lori sighs. "She's just so sensitive, you know? Can't ever take a joke."

"That didn't sound like a joke to me," I say as I pull two slices out of the pack and throw them on top of a big tomato slice. It didn't go unnoticed to me how Strawberry stacked up my sandwich with more food than her own. I like generous people far more than conniving ones.

"No, it totally was a joke." She lets out a tinkling laugh like the one earlier, when she stole my fry. "That's how we girls play around."

I take a bite out of the sandwich and turn around. While chewing, I say, "Screw that. I have two sisters, and they never talk to each other like this."

Someone chokes, and it's not me. It also isn't whatsherface. Her mouth hangs open, and she reels back as if my words punched her.

"Guys," I call out over her head. "I'm leaving after I eat."

"Yeah, okay." Archie looks at me with eyes as wide as saucers.

Lori splutters. "But—You just got here."

I use every ounce of tact I possess, which isn't much, and say, "Yeah, I know," rather than what I truly want to say. Which is yeah, but you're really stinking obnoxious .

With the sandwich hanging between my clamped jaws, I make the trek around the kitchen and back to the hallway with four doors. I knock on the first one—on the left. There's some shuffling on the other side, and as I wait, I take another proper bite. Strawberry must be a good cook, because the ingredients wouldn't taste this good if I put them together myself. I'm another bite deep and about to knock on the door again when it finally opens.

The annoyance on Strawberry's face falters. "Oh. It's you."

"It's me." I raise what little's left of the sandwich. "This is really good."

"Don't tell me you want another one."

"Not right now. By the way, you have mustard on your face."

"Oh, crap."

Strawberry scrambles back into her room and snatches the balled-up paper towel from her empty plate. She keeps her back turned to me as she wipes her face. Her brown hair is a curtain behind her. A thick one. And it stops right atop her ass. Also a thick one. But then she twirls around, and I stuff the remainder of my sandwich into my mouth.

Nothing to see here. Nothing happened. I was not checking out my tutor.

"How about now?"

I grunt.

She tilts her head, and a strand of her hair caught on her shoulder drops to her chest. The chest I now have the perfect measure of in my head.

"You do that a lot, you know? Grunt like a caveman."

I nod. I know . I do it so I don't blurt out what's going through my head. Which right now goes against Step One of my plan. And I need to remind myself that Strawberry here is a major player in the success of Step Two, so I shouldn't be standing here wondering if her underwear matches the bra I can now see tossed over a chair in the corner.

I clear my throat. "Anyway, you good?"

Her eyebrows rise and her face scrunches up. She scratches her elbow. But then she lifts her chin. "Yes, I'm good."

And I'm Ken Dryden.

But this is none of my business. Just like how her underwear isn't any of my damn business. I lick a drop of mustard from my thumb and tear my eyes away from the bra.

"See you tomorrow, Strawberry."

Annoyance takes over her features. "Don't make me call you Aaron."

A girl who can take it and dish it back, huh?

I grin. "See you tomorrow, Maddie ."

I don't know whether I should be amused or worried that tutoring sessions won't be a drag after all.