The Tutor (BOOK 2: OMEN KING SERIES)

|𝟺|

Jenny Johnson

"Can you believe him?" I ask, aghast, as I recount my encounter with the cocky idiot, Romeo Benjamin, to Bianca. "He seriously came up to me and asked me to tutor him! Can you believe it?"

The words spill out of me like a dam bursting. My voice shakes slightly, and I can feel a hot flush creeping up my neck. We're walking through the school hallways, dodging the throngs of students that will soon descend like a swarm of bees. The sun streams through the large windows, warming the dull walls, but it does nothing to lighten the weight in my chest.

Bianca glances at me, her lips curving into a teasing smile. "Well, he's not wrong; you're super smart."

"I'm aware," I reply dryly, shooting her a pointed look. "But that doesn't mean I want to tutor him. Plus, the guy's a complete tool."

God, I hope she takes my side on this. But knowing her crush on Tim, I can feel the doubt settling in. Everyone seems to love those two idiots, even if they're total boneheads. It's infuriating.

"You're overreacting, Jen. He's not that bad." Bianca rolls her eyes, her tone a mix of annoyance and empathy. "He's just trying to get some extra help. It's not a crime."

I stop in my tracks, gaping at her. "Not that bad? Not a crime? Are you kidding me, Bianca? He called me a cheat and then asked me to tutor him! As if that didn't make things worse, he called me Jessica, do I look like a fucking Jessica?"

My heart races, and for a moment, I can feel the familiar sting of anger. Usually, I can brush off the accusations of cheating. But this guy? It feels like a slap in the face. He's the kind of guy everyone fawns over, and it makes me sick. I worked my ass off to get where I am. I had no help whatsoever-just my determination.

My uncle? Useless. My mother? Dead. And my father? Well, who cares.

Bianca shoots me a look, her eyes narrowing. "Look, I get where you're coming from, but he's not all bad. He's been through a lot, you know."

I don't need to ask; everyone knows about his past. His family is practically Willowbrook royalty. But still, I can't help but bristle at her words. "He's been through a lot," I mimic, shaking my head. "So what? Doesn't excuse him being an asshole. And what's with the whole 'let me tutor you' spiel? Like, he could easily pay for a real tutor. But no, he has to come to the poor girl and ask her to do his work for him. Talk about being lazy."

As we round the corner, I try to shake off the frustration, but it clings to me like a bad smell. And then, like a punch to the gut, I see him. Denis Johnson. The very reason I'm stuck at Willowbrook. The man who ruined my life.

I can't seem to tear my eyes away from Denis. It's like a train wreck, and I'm powerless to stop myself. He wears his coach's jacket, the fabric hanging loosely on his broad shoulders, and his signature whistle dangles from his neck, an obnoxious reminder of everything I want to forget. His bald head shines under the harsh fluorescent lights, and his dark eyes seem to bore right through the hockey players. He's chatting with a group of hockey players, and from the looks of it, they're having a heated discussion.

Memories flood back-his booming voice, the way he used to look at me like I was everything, the feeling of being wanted that left just like he did. I take a shaky breath, trying to ground myself, but the anger and sadness swirl together, making me dizzy.

Why does he have to be here? Why can't I just move on?

"Jenny? Hello?" Bianca's voice pulls me back from the edge of a memory I wish I could forget. I blink hard, tearing my gaze away from Denis, who's still laughing it up with his players. "Are you okay?"