Public Knowledge (Sweet Pea x Reader)

The Arrangement

"No one can know."

You tore your eyes away from where they had been tracing the Southside Serpents tattoo on his neck, making yourself meet his gaze instead.

"Yeah, of course," you nodded, biting your lip before remembering what your mother said about doing that, and quickly letting go. You settled on a smile. Or rather, the attempt at a smile. You could tell the effort didn't reach your eyes. In your defense, though, he was the one making it hard to seem offhandedly friendly what with his intensely dark stare and the fact that you were certain he was carrying a knife. You stopped smiling, and shifted your weight to the other leg.

"Good," he gave a single nod from where he leaned against the wall, staring at you with arms crossed. "So, Thursday? After school?"

"Yeah. Yeah, ok, that works," you agreed, adjusting your grip on your books. "Where?"

"It's your school," he shot back.

You worried your lip between your teeth, racking your brain for different options."Maybe the student lounge? Or the library?" He raised his eyebrows with a look that was equal parts skeptical and scathing, as if he couldn't believe Mr. Adams had suggested he ask you to help him with his English papers. You couldn't blame him. It took everything in you to avoid looking up at the ceiling and sighing at your own idiocy.

"Right, no one can know and people go to those places," you mumbled, bobbing your head. "Here then? I always see Mr. Adams skipping out of school early, so it should be open."

"Cool," he affirmed. In the awkward silence that followed, your eyes once more slid towards his tattoo, the double headed snake with fangs bared. The same as the one on the back of his leather jacket. "I'm not dumb. And this isn't because I'm in the Serpents," he snapped, and you felt your face grow warm as you refocused back on his face instead of his tattoo. "Southside was a hell hole and my last English teacher was the Sugar Man, not exactly the most conducive environment to getting an education."

"I–I can imagine," you stuttered, once more feeling the weight of your idiocy and wishing it would crush you.

"You really can't," he shook his head, looking out into the hall. "We can figure out the details Thursday." he decided, without even looking back at you. Instead, he just left you behind, wondering why on earth you had just agreed to tutor Sweet Pea, The Southside Serpent, in English.