Deal.

Sally’s POV.

Thankfully, the stalls were empty. I placed my bag on the sink and took off my glasses.

My eyes were filling up, and I didn’t want to get them stained.

How dare they video me at my vulnerable moment? I bet my stars it was Matilda.

My phone dinged in my backpack.

It was a message from Micheal.

‘You okay?’

I didn’t answer.

I straightened and stared at my reflection in the mirror.

Did I really dress shabbily? I knew I didn’t pay much attention to how I dressed, but that’s how I learned.

‘Cover up, don’t let your bum show.'

I was a fast developer thanks to Mom's genes. The type that already had full blown boobs by middle school and I hid them under baggy shirts and sweaters.

Could that be why Justin saw me as his nerdy friend after all these years? I had painstakingly watched Justin date three girls over the years, and they were nothing like me.

I didn’t want to be the nerdy friend anymore. I wanted to be a girl, the type of girl Justin wanted.

I exhaled shakily.

And I knew of one person who was willing to help.

I clutched my phone to my chest and looked up at that ceiling.

“Don’t make me regret this," I said to no one in particular. If he doesn’t pick up, then it’s a sign.

I searched for his number and dialed.

It rang once, then twice. Then he picked on the third ring.

“Hello?”

His voice through the receiver made my stomach flip. He sounded like he had just woken up from sleep.

His accent came out raspy.

“You are not in school?” I asked.

“I had a long night, Sally," he muttered.

“Can we see?”

A pause.

“Sure we can. Give me thirty minutes and I will be there." He sounded alive now.

"Waiting," I said before cutting the call.

I didn’t leave the bathroom. A few people trooped in and trooped out. I didn’t go for the next class either.

Thirty minutes later, my phone rang. Making me jolt in the quiet bathroom.

‘I am up front,' he said.

The hallways were half empty, and I was super thankful because I really couldn’t cope with all the stares right now. I was suddenly aware of what I wore earlier that morning.

I stopped at the front door, and there he was. The glass was wound down, and the loud music from his car drew everyone’s attention.

He looked even hotter during the day. The sun illuminated his dark brown hair while he leaned into the seat.

He smiled when he saw me.

A girl beside me tapped her friend. “He’s so dreamy."

Why did he park upfront? The last thing I needed was another blog post about yet another Heiman brother.

I swallowed and took brisk steps to his car.

I shut the door so fast one would think I was being chased.

"Drive," I said.

“To where?”

“I don’t know, anywhere. Not just here."

He didn’t start the car immediately. Instead, he wound up the glass.

The music kept playing, the bass vibrating beneath my feet. I could feel people staring through the glass windows of the building. I kept my eyes forward.

He lowered the volume slowly.

“What happened?” he asked.

His fingers tapped against the steering wheel. “You skipped class for nothing?”

My throat tightened. I hated that he noticed things.

“Could we just leave here first, please?”

He said nothing and started the engine. He drove us to a quiet street lined with trees.

“Okay,” he said, turning off the engine. “Talk.”

I stared ahead.

“I don’t want to be invisible anymore.”

“You’re not invisible.”

“I am to him.”

There.

I said it.

His jaw twitched.

“Justin?”

I finally looked at him.

“Teach me.”

His smile faded slightly. “Teach you what, exactly?”

“How not to be this.” I gestured at myself.

He didn’t laugh this time.

He looked at me.

“Sally,” he said quietly, “there is nothing wrong with you.”

"Yes, there is.”

“Is there?” His eyes dropped to my hands twisting in my lap. “Or is there something wrong with the bloke you’re trying to impress?”

My chest tightened.

“Justin doesn’t see me.”

“Justin’s blind, then.”

I swallowed.

“That’s not what I asked.”

Silence.

He leaned back, studying the ceiling of the car.

“And what happens,” he said slowly, “if I teach you… and he suddenly does see you?”

I hesitated.

He looked at me again.

“Do I get tossed aside once you’ve got his attention?”

“I don’t know," I whispered.

The car went silent again.

“Fine,” he said finally. “I’ll help you.”

My shoulders loosened.

“But,” he added.

“There it is.”

“If I’m doing this, you listen to me. No half-measures. No hiding behind jumpers three sizes too big.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I walk.”

My pulse skipped.

“You’re dramatic.”

“I am British," he said. “It’s in the blood."

I shut my eyes tightly and exhaled, "Would this work?”

He smirked. "Are you doubting my capabilities, Sally?”

I grinned. "So…do we put it in writing?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You nerds never seem to amaze me."

I swatted his arm. "Shut it. We should head back. Don’t you have a class?”

“I don’t do classes, but okay." He started the engine.

My eyes rolled. "Not a surprise that you need a tutor to pass senior year."

He smirked, looking ahead. He drove towards school.

“So, weekends?”

“Nope, I have frat weekends. Weekdays would have to do. Two times a week.”

I sighed, "Let me check my schedule."

I reached into my bag and brought out my journal, flipping through its pages.

“Let’s see," I muttered.

The notebook was jerked from my hands.

“Hey!” I muttered.

“You nerd. "Do you really have a journal with everything planned out?”

“Yes, and so? Don’t you? All my friends have one."

He scoffed, "You need better friends, love."

His accent dragged over the word “better,” turning it softer. British. Annoyingly attractive.

“If we are working together, you don’t need this."

He tossed it towards his backseat.

Hey. You can’t do that?”

“I just did, Sally. That stays with me for now. You won’t even need it in the long run."

Heat rushed up my face. My blood boiled.

My lips parted for a protest, but I was interrupted by the sharp ring of my phone.

Justin was calling.