Your Tutor

Chapter Fourteen

—
Maylee Lych
—

"What?" I grumble, rubbing my eyes. I was ignoring them calling my name repeatedly, then the pillow to the legs. But the cold hands that pressed on my bare back, under my sweatshirt, was my final straw.

Jayde laughs with Milo, and Nyah just grins from her spot across the room.

Forest smiles at me, meeting my eyes. "Tired, Sleeping Beauty?" he asks, scratching my back.

"Was that your hands?" I ask, sitting up. He shakes his head and nods towards Milo. I turn to her and flip her off. "Your hands are cold as hell," I mumble, shifting so I'm sitting with my back to Brooks's chest.

I don't realize I'm practically snuggling into him until his arms are hovering around my waist so I can get comfortable easily.

"Mm — sorry." I tuck my knees to my chest and lay against Forest. "I'm done now," I say, and his arms finally wrap around my torso.

He kisses the side of my head. "You're fine."

Milo slumps back onto the couch. "They're so cute, and she didn't even want to get with him. It's not fair." She whines and crosses her arms. "I just need to... not be a whore."

"You're not a whore. You just... sleep around sometimes," Jayde says.

"If that literally isn't the definition of a whore, I don't know what is," Cameron chimes in. "Not that you are. Just, you know..."

Nyah snickers, but keeps looking at her phone.

Milo shoves her with her foot. "Shut up, you get laid every night. You don't know how hard it is for me to keep one man's attention."

"Do you usually take part in these conversations?" Forest asks, voice low by my ear.

I shake my head, brushing my fingers over his. "I prefer to keep out of it."

Nyah picks her head up to look at Milo. "Maybe it's the men?" she asks, tilting her head.

"Or me," Milo quickly retaliates.

"No, like, the men. In general."

Milo's mouth moves to say something, but nothing comes out so she closes it again. She ponders the words for a minute before sitting up straight. "Hmm," she hums.

I shake my head, smiling.

"What, Maylee? Why don't you speak up — you get so quiet around Brooks. What is it?" Cameron asks, leaning off of Mackai.

"I do not," I say. I know she's teasing, but it's not true. I'm not a quiet person.

She sits back again, fiddling with her fingers. "You do."

"Liar."

Mackai chuckles. "You really do. You're just shy," he says. I'm not shy. I refuse to believe I am. "When you're around someone new. You were so introverted around me for, like, a month."

"I just don't like people," I mumble. "I wasn't shy, I just didn't want to talk to you. And when you didn't go away, against my prayers, I had to talk to you because she," I point to Cameron, "was whining about it. I wouldn't have ever talked to you if it weren't for her."