Miss nobody strikes back

Hit.

Chapter twenty

I watched as Dominic walked to the seat beside me. He sat down, and I immediately felt like I was going to faint. *The Dominic Donovan is sitting next to me,* I thought, feeling a wave of nervousness wash over me. Oh god, this was too much to handle. The room fell silent, the tension between us hanging in the air like a heavy blanket.

"Are we going to sit here in silence, or do you actually want to study?" His deep voice broke through the stillness, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I... I'm sorry," I stammered, feeling a flush creep up my cheeks. I quickly grabbed my textbook, fumbling a little as I opened it.

"I’m struggling with advanced calculus and a bit of physics," I admitted, turning to look at him. His eyes shifted from my face to the book, and without a word, he picked up a pen and opened to a fresh page in my notebook.

"I need you to focus," he said, his voice calm yet firm. I nodded obediently, trying to steady my nerves.

Dominic began explaining the concepts to me, his words few but incredibly clear. His way of teaching was precise, and before long, I found myself grasping things I hadn’t understood before. He gave me some exercises to try on my own, and to my surprise, I got three out of five correct.

"You're doing it the long way," he said, taking the pen from my hand. As our fingers brushed, a wave of electricity shot through me, sending butterflies dancing in my stomach. I shook my head, trying to focus on the math instead of the way his touch made me feel.

"I like to do it like this," he continued, solving the problem in front of me in a much quicker way. He made it look effortless. *This guy is a genius. Like, Albert Einstein level,* I thought, watching his pen move swiftly across the paper.

"Simple. Now, why don't you give it a try?" He handed the pen back to me. I nodded and took it, my fingers still tingling from where they had touched his. I managed to start the problem, but halfway through, I got stuck.

"Gosh, my short memory," I muttered under my breath. "Why is this part still so complicated for me?"

"You’ll get used to it," Dominic replied, smirking slightly. "It’s only our first session."

I blinked, realizing I’d said that out loud. Miss Gemma had been right — Dominic was an excellent teacher. If only I could ignore the electric feeling every time our hands brushed. But I did learn a lot today, and for that, I was grateful.

He wrote down some extra exercises for me to practice at home. After glancing at the time, he stood up. "It's getting late. I need to go."

I nodded, packing up my things. He was halfway to the door when I called out, "Um, are we having another session tomorrow?"

Dominic turned his head and nodded before leaving the library. I smiled to myself, feeling a strange flutter in my chest. *Why am I blushing?* His presence alone made me feel on edge. Everything about him was attractive, from his confident demeanor to his flawless handwriting. *Get a grip, Hanna. You’re here to study,* I reminded myself, shaking my head.

I quickly packed my bag and left the school. Just as I stepped outside, I saw Dominic getting into a sleek black SUV and driving away. *Must be nice being rich,* I thought, feeling a little envious. I hadn’t brought my bike today, so I started the long walk home.

By the time I arrived, it was already 6:45. I slumped down on the couch, exhausted and in desperate need of food and a shower. Just then, Mum walked into the living room.

"Good evening," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

She barely looked at me before asking, "Where’s your sister? And why are you home so late? School finishes at 3 PM, last I checked."

"I’ve started an after-school lesson," I explained, folding my arms across my chest. "My grades were beginning to slip, you know, since you pulled me out of school so suddenly and sent me away."

Mum raised an eyebrow. "Really? You need to ask for permission before you start any lessons. And from what I see, this isn’t a lesson. I need you at home, Hanna."

I scoffed, incredulous. "Need me for what? Chores and errands? Mum, my brain is what got me into that school in the first place, and I need to keep up. Claire doesn’t care about grades, so why don’t you ask her to help you? Just stay out of my way when it comes to my studies."

"You’ve changed," Mum snapped, her eyes narrowing. "What kind of nonsense did your aunt put in your head? I never should’ve sent you there."

"Where is Claire, anyway?" I shot back. "When she gets home, I bet you’ll pat her on the back, feed her, and tell her to rest. Meanwhile, I’m doing something that could actually benefit this family in the future, and all I get is a scolding. Will I ever be treated like your daughter?"

"No," Mum said sharply. "Not until you do the dishes and clean Claire's room."

"Why should I clean her room?" I asked, utterly baffled.

"Because she's weak, and the doctor said she shouldn’t do any strenuous activity. If you don't do it, you’re grounded. And that’s final."

Mum stormed off to the kitchen, leaving me standing there, stunned. *Why do I even try?* I thought bitterly. I would always be the third wheel in this family.

After dropping my bag in my room, I took a warm shower to calm down. Once I was done, I went straight to the kitchen and began doing the dishes. When that was over, I reluctantly headed to Claire's room. It was a disaster, like a toddler had lived there. I forced myself to tidy up, holding back my frustration.

By the time I finished, it was after 7 PM. Dad and Claire had already come home, and we all sat down for dinner. I absentmindedly held the notebook where Dominic had written my assignments.

"You shouldn’t allow books at the dining table, Mum," Claire said, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

"You’re right," Mum agreed immediately. "Hanna, put your book away and eat your food."

I sighed, standing up to leave when Dad stopped me.

"Sit down and eat. It’s rude to walk out during dinner."

I glared at Claire, who was too busy on her phone to even notice the food in front of her. "Then why is it okay to have a phone at the table?" I asked, my voice tight with frustration.

"Hanna, just listen to your mother," Dad said, his voice more tired than angry. "You’ve been studying all day. Don’t you want to spend time with your family?"

"I prefer my books," I muttered under my breath. "They make me happy." I was about to walk away when I felt a sharp sting on my cheek.

I touched my face in shock. Dad had slapped me, leaving my skin burning and my heart pounding in disbelief.