The Bad Boy’s Tutor: Hidden Masks Book 1

by Arthurs, Nia

  I eyed her ‘Fork The Patriarchy’ shirt. “Interesting slogan.”

  “Oh this?” She pinched it. “Found it at a thrift store. Isn’t it cute with the little fork?”

  I blinked. “That’s why you bought it? For the pictures?”

  “Yup.”

  There was absolutely no guile in her face. I couldn’t tell if she was pulling my leg or not. “Well,” I backed away, “it was nice meeting you.”

  “Wait!” She pounced on me.

  My jaw dropped as her hands clawed around my arm. I didn’t get the vibe that Angie was interested in me, which made her pursuit even more confusing.

  She grinned. “Which way are you headed?”

  “Uh, home.”

  “Do you pass Pizza Joe’s on the way?”

  “No.”

  “Great!” She yanked me forward. “Could I get a ride? I usually take the bus but I’m not in the mood for all the noise and B.O.”

  “Uh…”

  “On the way, we can talk about our favorite songs, our hobbies, and why we fired our tutors for no good reason.”

  I let her drag me to the parking lot before I gained ahold of my senses and shook her off. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think this is a good idea.” I wanted to yell ‘go away’, but she was Monique’s friend and I didn’t need her carrying the message that I was a jerk back to them.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t hit on you. I’m kind of in love with someone else.”

  I stared at her.

  “Did I hurt your feelings? I still think you’re hot, but I’m not interested like that. I’m into… older men.”

  “Okay?”

  Angie trotted around the car, grabbed my keys and pressed the alarm fob. The doors unlocked. She swiftly rounded the hood again and opened the door. “What are you waiting for?”

  Somehow, I found myself climbing behind the wheel and driving a complete stranger to her after-school job. In all my years of fending girls off, I’d never found myself in this weird position.

  “This ride is noice,” Angie said, her gaze darting all over my car. “How much did you pay for this? Wait! Don’t tell me. That was none of my business. I apologize for prying.”

  I blinked. Angie was like a hurricane. I couldn’t keep up.

  Angie leaned back and stared at me. “As you might recall, I’m Monique’s friend.”

  “The ‘best’ of friends, right?”

  “Exactly. That’s why I’m taking it upon myself to help her out. She was, understandably, hurt and confused last week.”

  “Was she really?”

  “Really what?”

  “Upset?”

  “She was bawling her eyes out.” Angie tilted her head innocently. “Does that make you feel bad?”

  I licked my lips. The thought of Monique in pain was a blow to the gut, but thinking I was the one who made her cry… “Is she okay?”

  “Even you can tell that’s a stupid question, right?”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt her. It was best for the both of us that I cut things off. She has to know that.”

  “All she knows is what you tell her, doofus.”

  I arched an eyebrow for the name-calling. “What do you expect me to do?”

  “Tell her the truth.”

  I thought of Marissa’s threat to reveal the pregnancy. My fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “I can’t.” More forcefully, I added, “That’s not an option.”

  “Then you risk losing her. Forever.”

  Her words settled around my shoulders, heavier than any I’d felt.

  Angie pointed. “We’re almost there. You can let me out on the sidewalk.”

  I slowed the car and watched Angie pop the door open. In a rush, I pleaded, “Take care of Monique for me.”

  Angie hung back and pinned me with a disgusted look. “Do it yourself.”

  Then she slammed the door with enough force to rock the entire frame and stormed off.

  18

  Heathcliff Has Friends

  Monique

  My gaze swept the cafeteria. I was looking for Harley… and for James. But mostly for Harley. I balanced my tray on one hand and checked my phone for new messages. There were none. My fingers dug into the tray as I stomped outside to our table.

  Angie was there.

  Alone.

  I sighed as I slipped in next to her.

  “Nice to see you too,” Angie said. “Geez, you don’t have to look so disappointed.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about Harley. It’s been a week and I haven’t seen him around. It’s like he disappeared into thin air.”

  “You two are still fighting?” Angie asked.

  I shrugged. “Guess so.”

  “Don’t take it personally. Harley’s busy with the band.”

  “How do you know that?”

  She lifted her phone and shook it. “Do I have to explain what text messages are again?”

  “You and Harley are talking a lot.”

  “I wouldn’t say a lot. Maybe moderately.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t infiltrate our group just to get with my best friend?”

  “How many times do I have to tell you?” She cupped her mouth and yelled, “I like older men!”

  I laughed.

  “Do you think he’s still upset about the whole James thing?” Angie asked, her brown eyes boring into me.

  “I don’t know. We’ve never fought for this long before. I’m not sure what I should do. Seven days of space is a long time, right? He should be over it by now.”

  “Right.” She nodded.

  “I feel awful about the way we ended things.” I pushed my fork around my plate.

  “Which ruined relationship are we talking here? James or Harley?”

  I shot her a dark look. “James can rot for all I care.”

  “Ooh, someone’s getting sassy. I like it.”

  I glared into my spaghetti, retracing the past few days.

  James cut our lessons off last week Thursday.

  I used the weekend to get over it, but on Tuesday, when I saw Marissa hanging around him at lunch, I realized I wasn’t nearly as unaffected as I wanted to be.

  On Wednesday, I saw James and his girlfriend sneaking into an empty classroom to… I don’t even want to imagine what they did in there.

  Today was Thursday, officially a week since he sat me down and told me he couldn’t ‘handle’ our time together.

  James still hadn’t called me.

  I should stop hoping for things I couldn’t have and focus on patching things up with Harley. James was a dead-end from the start. I knew that, but I couldn’t help wishing we could at least be friends.

  “Earth to Heathcliff.” Angie waved a hand in front of my face. “I lost you for a second there. What were you snarling into thin air for?”

  I pulled my lips in. “Nothing.”

  “Mm-hm,” Angie side-eyed me. “Girl, don’t waste emotional energy on James. I’ve already confirmed that there’s no hope for you two. At least, not right now.”

  “What does that mean?”

  She plowed on, pretending she hadn’t heard me. “Why don’t we fix the Harley situation first? You guys have been friends for too long to go down like this.”

  “I don’t know what to do. He won’t reply to my texts. He’s avoiding me at school—”

  “So we go to him.” Her eyes flashed brilliantly. It was the very expression she’d worn when we met at the pizza parlor. The one that made me wary about talking to her.

  “What are you thinking?”

  “You know where Harley lives, right?”

  “I mean… I guess.”

  “Good.”

  That impish smile of hers scared me away from asking any more questions, but I found out Angie’s plan soon enough when she dragged me to the bus stop after school.

  “Which bus do we take to get to Harley’s place?” Angie demanded.

  I nodded to the yellow bus on the right.

&nb
sp; She urged me forward. “Come on!”

  “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked nervously as we hunkered into a seat all the way at the back. “Harley and I don’t usually solve our problems like this.”

  “Well, how do you make up after you fight?”

  “We just… do. No words necessary.”

  “So you don’t discuss what went wrong or why you were hurt? None of that?” Angie swiveled around and stuck a finger in my face. “I don’t buy it.”

  “It’s the truth. Once, when we were ten, Harley got a kick scooter for Christmas. He’d wanted it for years and he treated it like a baby. I begged him to let me use it. He said no. I took the scooter anyway. Then I crashed it.”

  “He must have been livid.”

  “He didn’t talk to me for three days.” I ducked my head, remembering how awful I’d felt. “On the fourth day, he suddenly sat with me at lunch and acted like it never happened. I played along and eventually, we both forgot about it.”

  “As cute as that sounds, I don’t think bottling your feelings inside is healthy. Especially when you two are such great friends. You should talk it out and then move on.”

  “But we don’t do things like that.”

  “Well, I’m here now.” She lifted her chin and winked. “So we do things a little differently.”

  I wanted to argue, but my strategy of ignoring the problem and hoping it went away didn’t seem to be working. What if Harley ignored me for another week? Another month?

  We’d never fought this intensely before. I’d follow Angie’s lead and nip this in the bud.

  We got off the bus at the stop in Harley’s neighborhood. The houses were all cookie-cutter shades of brown with fence-less lawns and cute mailboxes. It had been a while since I’d visited Harley, but nothing in his neighborhood had changed. Nothing.

  “This is it.” I pointed to the mailbox with the number ‘301’ painted on the side. A white SUV was parked in the garage, meaning Harley’s mom was home. I didn’t see his rusted pickup.

  “Let’s go.”

  “Wait.” I froze on the sidewalk. “Shouldn’t we call Harley first?”

  “So he can tell you not to come? I don’t think so.” Angie grabbed my elbow and led me up the path to the stairs. Fearlessly, she knocked on the front door.

  I whirled around, hiding my face as the door opened.

  I’m going to kill Angie if this backfires.

  “Hello?” The voice belonged to Harley’s mom. I turned away, even more embarrassed now than before.

  Why did I listen to Angie again?

  “Hi!”

  I peeked over my shoulder at Mrs. Kim. She wore a pair of tight yoga pants and a long white shirt. Her blue eyes narrowed on us.

  Angie grinned politely. “I’m here for—”

  “Sorry, kid. Whatever it is, I can’t help.”

  Angie blinked. “What?”

  “The economy is hard on all of us, but even if I could, I don’t give handouts. Go to the government if you need money.”

  I cringed.

  Angie’s jaw dropped. “Are you assuming that because I’m black, I’m here to beg?”

  Mrs. Kim folded her arms over her chest and shot a look that said, ‘well, aren’t you?’

  “It’s true. I am black and I am young, but at least I don’t make assumptions based on stereotypes, you basic white—”

  I slapped a hand over her mouth and hauled Angie behind me. “I apologize for my friend, Mrs. Kim.”

  “Monique! I didn’t even see you there.”

  I coughed as Angie continued to mutter obscenities. “Can we come in?”

  “Of course.” She shot Angie a look. “Both of you?”

  I kicked Angie and mouthed, “Be nice.”

  “Why?” she whispered back.

  I frowned severely and jutted my chin toward Harley’s mother.

  Angie sneered.

  I pasted a smile on my face and edged inside, pulling a sulking Angie with me. “We’re sorry to bother you.”

  “It’s never a bother when you visit, Monique.”

  Angie glanced around the room. “You have a lovely home, ma’am. I’m totally not casing this place to rob later.”

  “Ha!” I forced a belly laugh as horror tiptoed across Mrs. Kim’s face. “That was hilarious, Angie.” Beneath my breath, I hissed, “Cut it out.”

  She shoved out her tongue.

  “Is Harley home?” I asked.

  “Yes, he’s in his room.” Mrs. Kim shot Angie another suspicious look and disappeared down the hallway.

  A moment later, light footsteps pattered toward us. A child came bounding into the living room, her purple tutu flouncing in the air. Paisley. She had lily-white skin, blonde hair and blue eyes just like her mother and brother.

  “Monique!”

  “Hi.” I hefted her into my arms and spun her around. “How are you doing?”

  “Good. I got a new outfit for the pageant.” She pointed to her skirt.

  “It’s nice and sparkly.” I nodded my approval.

  Paisley’s gaze caught on Angie. “Who’s that?”

  “My friend.”

  “Oh.” Paisley turned to me and whispered loudly, “She’s beautiful.”

  One corner of Angie’s lips tugged up. “Kid’s got good taste.”

  “Do you want to see my trophies?” Paisley asked.

  “Not right now.” I set her down. “We need to talk to Harley first.”

  “Oh, okay.” Paisley scampered off.

  “She’s cute.” Angie rose from the sofa and walked toward me. In a low voice, she said, “But do you really think she needs to lose any weight? The kid’s ribs were sticking out.”

  Before I could answer, Mrs. Kim returned. Harley was not by her side.

  For a brief moment, my throat tightened. Had he denied us?

  “Harley’s waiting in his room downstairs,” she said.

  “Downstairs?”

  “In the basement.” She pointed to the floor. “Paisley and I are preparing for her next competition, but I’ll be around.” She gazed at Angie. “Watching.”

  Sensing the tension, I mumbled my thanks and pulled Angie to the basement. We cautiously approached the steps, curling our lips at the mold on the walls.

  Angie frowned. “Didn’t you say that Harley has asthma?”

  I nodded. This can’t be healthy.

  Harley was waiting for us at the last stair. His arms were folded across his chest. His stormy expression warned that the invitation to his bedroom wasn’t his idea.

  “What are you two doing here?” he asked coldly.

  I peered past him, checking the converted basement out. The walls were blue and held posters of his favorite guitarists. A television sat on a desk next to a leaning tower of video games. Bookshelves cased the entire length of one wall. It was nice, cozy.

  Angie brushed past Harley and hopped on his bed. “Nice set up, Wolfe. I’m thinking this is our new chill spot.”

  “Get off my bed.”

  Angie rolled over in response.

  I cautiously approached him. “Harley, I came to apologize in person. I’m sorry about what I said before. I do believe in you and Eric is lucky to have you in his band.”

  Harley’s jaw clenched.

  Angie yelled from behind him. “Come on. Accept her apology. We came all this way.”

  Harley glared at me. “You’re my best friend, Monique. If the world didn’t believe in me, I thought you would.”

  “I know.” I hung my head. “I was wrong.”

  Harley licked his lips. “It’s okay.”

  “Really? Are we cool now?”

  He nodded.

  “Hug it out!” Angie loudly encouraged.

  I offered my arms. “Truce?”

  Harley wrapped me in a friendly hug. Angie soon joined, squeezing us tightly. When we separated, it was a little awkward but at least things had thawed between us.

  Angie returned to Harley’s bed while I wal
ked to his bookshelf and ran my fingers along the thick spines. “Why’d you get banished to the basement?”

  Harley shrugged, his gaze on the floor. “Mom needed space for Paisley’s trophy room.”

  “She kicked you out for a bunch of trophies?” Angie gasped. “I knew I didn’t like that woman.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Harley ran a hand through his short blond hair. “Not really. I think… it was just easier to take my anger out on you than on mom. I apologize for that.”

  I smiled at him.

  He smiled back.

  “Aw!” Angie moaned from behind us. I spun and found her on the bed, her feet hiked in the air and her elbows propping her face up. “You two are just too cute. Are you sure you’d never—?”

  “No!” Both Harley and I yelled.

  “I was just asking,” Angie murmured.

  Harley and I exchanged a grin.

  Things were, finally, back to normal.

  19

  It’s Okay, It’s Not Love

  James

  “How far along are you?” I asked Marissa. We were clustered in the same empty classroom she’d dragged me to last time.

  I was still pissed about her blackmail, but it was pretty hard to ignore her when she had my baby growing in her stomach.

  Marissa shifted. “I don’t remember.”

  I eyed her cheerleading outfit. The short skirt exposed the length of her long legs and the shirt hiked whenever she raised her arms, exposing a stomach that was just starting to bulge a little. “Maybe you shouldn’t be getting tossed around in the air in your condition.”

  “I’ll be fine, James.”

  “At least change your routines so you’re not the one who’s always at the top of the pyramid. Think of the kid.”

  “You and our baby,” she shook her head, “this family are all I think about.”

  I flinched. Marissa had shifted to calling our dysfunctional relationship a ‘family’. It was her newest tactic and it was annoying.

  “What are you doing this weekend? I heard you got kicked out of Eric’s band so you should be free.”

  “I didn’t get kicked—” I snapped my jaw shut. “I’m busy.”

  “With what?”

  “Something you don’t need to know about.”