I Hate You Too

Ch. 18: Dallas

"None of this makes sense."

I try hard not to pay attention to the way Amara taps the eraser of her pencil against her lips in a frustrated manner.

Eyeing the movement, I can't stop thinking about the way her lips had felt against mine that night at Mila's party. How the taste of Jack, Coke, and vanilla on her lips had somehow been the sweetest combination.

I shake my head and push the thoughts aside. That kiss was just for show—nothing more.

Beside me, a crease forms between Amara's eyebrows. Her cheeks are flushed, revealing her irritation. We recently started learning trigonometric functions in pre-calc, and I've noticed Amara has been struggling, despite her trying to hide it.

Studying her disheveled state, I speak without thinking.

"I wouldn't mind helping you," I offer. "I understand the material. I'm sure I could teach you some parts."

Amara tilts her head, staring at me through narrowed eyes. The suggestion seems to wound her pride. I have learned that Amara is very independent; asking for help doesn't come easily to her.

Surprisingly, the harsh look Amara shoots me soon fades. She sighs, blowing unruly strands of dark hair around her face.

"I don't need you doing me any favors, Cooper," she says coolly.

"It's no big deal," I argue. "I could meet you in the library during free period. You know we have a test coming up this Friday. At least give it a shot."

Amara's lips curl upward. I know the look well. Whatever is about to come from her mouth will be at my expense.

"Like a study date?" she teases.

I exhale a low chuckle. "If that's what you want to call it."

Amara returns her attention to the worksheet atop her desk. She sighs again as she cuts her stare to mine.

"Fine," she agrees grudgingly. "But only because I really need to keep my grades up for college apps. Don't start thinking I need your help, Cooper."

Considering this fake dating plan we've been working on, I can't resist pointing out the fact that Amara sort of does need my help.

"Deny it all you want, but you know you need me, Singh."

The comment manages to get under Amara's skin. She crosses her arms over her chest tightly.

"It goes both ways," she says. "Honestly, you need me more than I need you. Deny it all you want, but you're a total charity—"

"May want to keep your voice down," I chide. How easy it is to get Amara riled up is something I find amusing. "Wouldn't want people to get the wrong idea, would we?"

Amara's stare roams the classroom, carefully observing our peers. Certain no one has overheard, she faces me with a steely gaze.

"Well, it's true and you know it," she says.

I'm not given the chance to respond, as the bell rings just as I part my lips. As I begin collecting my things, I notice Amara lingering at my side. We exit the room with Jasmine.

It isn't until we're in the crowded hallway that Amara faces me again. She fidgets with the tips of her hair as she lifts her stare to mine. Her gaze is devoid of the usual disdain she regards me with.

"If your offer to help me still stands, I'd appreciate it," she murmurs softly. By the way her eyes refuse to hold mine, I can tell the confession is difficult for her to admit.