Chapter 4

Ivy

I almost didn’t show up to the second session.

I stood outside the hockey academic room for a full minute, staring at the closed door, seriously considering turning around and telling Dr. Miller I had come down with something highly contagious. The only thing that stopped me was the number I had checked three times that morning: the tutoring payment for Ryder Knox was already sitting in my account. It was enough to cover the electricity bill and still leave a little for groceries. Walking away would mean giving that money back, and I couldn’t afford pride that expensive.

So I pushed the door open.

Ryder was already there this time. He sat in the same seat as before, long legs stretched out, phone in his hand, looking like he had nowhere better to be and no intention of pretending otherwise. His dark hair was still damp, and he was wearing another Westbury Hockey hoodie that somehow made him look even more like he owned the entire building.

He glanced up when I walked in. That slow, irritating smile appeared almost immediately.

“Look who decided to come back,” he said. “I had a bet with myself that you’d quit after yesterday.”

“I need the money more than I need peace,” I replied, dropping my bag onto the table and pulling out the worksheets I had prepared. “Don’t take it as a compliment.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He locked his phone and set it face-down. “You’re early.”

“You’re on time. Miracles do happen.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, like he found my existence mildly entertaining. I ignored him and opened my laptop, pulling up the chapter he had supposedly been reviewing. Silence stretched for a few seconds. I could feel him watching me.

“You always this charming, or is it just for me?” he asked.

“Just for you,” I said without looking up. “I save my best personality for people who actually try.”

“Ouch.” He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. “You always this tense, Jenner?”

My pen paused. I looked up slowly. “What did you just call me?”

“Jenner.” He said it casually, like it was obvious. “It’s on your student profile. Middle name. Cute.”

I stared at him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not? It suits you better than Ivy. Ivy sounds soft. Jenner sounds like someone who would threaten to report me to the academic office.”

“I will report you if you keep wasting both of our time.”

He smiled wider, clearly pleased that he’d gotten a reaction. “There she is.”

I pushed a worksheet toward him harder than necessary. “Problem one. Read it. Attempt it. Do not talk unless you’re asking a question about the material.”

To my surprise, he actually picked up the paper. He read the first question in silence, then started writing. His handwriting was messy but legible. I watched him from the corner of my eye, waiting for the moment he would get bored and start disrupting things again.

It took four minutes.

“This is boring,” he announced, dropping the pen.

“Most things that matter are,” I said. “Keep going.”

“I’d rather talk.”

“I’d rather you pass.”

He sat back in his chair, studying me like I was a puzzle he hadn’t decided whether he wanted to solve. “You really don’t like me, do you?”

“I don’t know you well enough to like or dislike you,” I answered honestly. “I just know you’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

“Most people like me.”

“I’m not most people.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’m starting to notice.”

Something in his tone made me glance up. For a second he wasn’t smiling. He was just looking at me, really looking, like he was trying to figure something out. Then the expression vanished and the usual cocky tilt of his mouth returned.

“So what’s the deal with you?” he asked. “You always this serious, or is it a scholarship requirement?”

I returned my attention to my laptop. “Focus on the worksheet.”

“I’m focusing. I’m focusing on why you look like you haven’t slept properly in a week.”

My shoulders tensed. “That’s none of your business.”

“Maybe not. Still true though.”

I didn’t answer. He was right, and I hated that he’d noticed. Between tutoring, labs, and the constant low-level panic about money, sleep had become optional. I had gotten four hours the night before and spent most of them replaying the conversation with Mrs. Carter in my head.

Ryder tapped his pen against the table. “You eat lunch today?”

I looked up, caught off guard. “What?”

“Lunch. Food. The thing people usually consume in the middle of the day.”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” he said too quickly. “You just look like someone who forgets. It’s distracting.”

“I’ll try to be less distracting for you.”

He muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like “not possible,” but I chose not to acknowledge it. We worked in tense silence for another twenty minutes. Every time I corrected him, he made a face or muttered a sarcastic comment, but he didn’t stop writing. Progress, I supposed.

Near the end of the hour, the door opened.

Kane Calloway walked in, hockey bag over one shoulder, easy smile already in place. “Knox, Coach is looking for you. Something about the film session.”

Ryder groaned. “Tell him I’m dying of academic stress.”

Kane’s eyes landed on me and his smile warmed. “Hey, Ivy. Didn’t know you were tutoring this idiot.”

“Someone has to,” I said, and immediately regretted how soft my voice sounded.

Kane laughed. “True. You surviving okay?”

“Trying to.”

“Well, if he gets too unbearable, just tell me. I’ll knock some sense into him.” He said it lightly, but the kindness in it was real. It always was with Kane. He treated me like a normal person, not a charity case or a joke, and that alone was enough to make my chest feel a little tighter than it should have.

Ryder watched the exchange with an unreadable expression. His jaw had gone tight.

“I’m right here,” he said.

“I know,” Kane replied, still smiling. “That’s why I said it.”

He gave me a small wave and left. The door clicked shut behind him. The room felt quieter than before.

Ryder stared at the closed door for a second, then looked back at me. “You two are friendly.”

“He’s in my Chemistry lab.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

I packed up my things slowly, refusing to meet his eyes. “We’re done for today. Review the last section before Thursday.”

“Jenner.”

I paused at the door.

“You never answered me,” he said. “About lunch.”

I glanced back at him. He was still sitting there, arms crossed, watching me with that same intense focus that made my skin feel too warm.

“I ate,” I lied, and walked out before he could say anything else.

I made it all the way to the end of the hallway before I let myself breathe properly. My hands were slightly unsteady as I adjusted the strap of my bag. I told myself it was just leftover irritation. That was all.

It had nothing to do with the way Ryder had looked at me when Kane left.

And it definitely had nothing to do with the fact that, for a moment, I had almost told him the truth.