"Uhm— I have to be somewhere right now," he said, glancing at his wristwatch again.
You've got to be kidding me.
"Are you for real right now? You didn't think about that before—or wait." I walked up to him slowly. "You didn't think I came with the whole package before agreeing to this?"
Oh, I loved this part—this part of tormenting him subtly. He had done worse to me in the past. The look on his face brought my memory back to the beginning of our nemesis.
It was my second year, second semester at the university. I sat on my bed that evening with Clarke.
"He's not picking up my calls!" I said, staring at the screen of my phone.
Clarke stood up from the bed and stood beside me. "Don't get too riled up, Maya."
I turned to her. "But I have to be, Clarke. He's cut my living expenses since that proud jerk August refused to keep tutoring me. It's been months!"
"I know it's a tricky situation, but the bright side is that he still provides for your basic needs."
I rolled my eyes. "I'm his only child—of course, he would. But I can't keep living like this," I snapped. "I really can't keep embarrassing myself in front of August, but I think I'll have to beg him again. It's a new semester—maybe he'll reconsider?"
"Should we call him?" Clarke asked.
"We don't have a choice." I dialed August's number, even after swearing I wouldn't call him again.
"Hello, Maya." His voice rang out over the phone.
Immediately, I jumped a little at the sound of his deep voice.
Clarke looked at me, waiting for me to speak, but I couldn't. Instead, I just stared at my phone. I didn't even know what to say to August.
"Are you there?" he said again.
Clarke took the phone from the bed. "Hi, August. It's me, Clarke."
"Oh, good evening, ma'am."
I rolled my eyes.
Fuck him and his sarcastic formalities.
"Uhm, I'm calling on behalf of Maya."
"Oh? How is she?"
"She's fine. I just wanted to ask if you could please reconsider your decision since this is another session."
Please say yes.
"I've made it clear to your friend the last time we met that I won't be tutoring her anymore."
"Yeah, I know, but—"
"I said no. There are no buts. Actions have consequences. Goodbye, Miss Clarke."
"Ditto," Clarke murmured.
"You see?!" I was livid. "Who does he even think he is?"
"He's August, babe. The best student in our school."
"It was a rhetorical question, Clarke." I slumped onto the bed.
"Yeah, I don't think he'll tutor you anymore. To be fair, he has lots of students on his neck. Plus, he offers group classes—even lecturers use him—so I can understand him not wanting to take just one student privately." Clarke was blunt this time.
Maybe I was regretting missing my tutoring lessons with August—three consecutive days, which he had warned me about.
"I get that he's busy, so I tried to get another tutor, but they suck, Clarke! And my dad's P.A. evaluated them and said they weren't good enough to tutor me."
"Yeah, August is rude, but he's the best. Your grades proved that."
I nodded.
I couldn't deny that August really helped me in my second semester of first year. My dad had gone to great lengths to hire him, and now that he had dropped me, I was in a tricky position. Plus, the fact that my grades dropped too made it worse.
I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling. That was the start of my war with August.
The sound of clinking glasses pulled me back to the present.
I blinked and saw him looking at me like I was a lost puppy.
"Are you there?" August asked.
"Yeah, what?" I said, a bit irritated.
"I know we just got married, but I have to be somewhere right now. We can talk later."
I smiled softly, moving closer to him, and whispered, "We're going home together, hubby."
The drive was a quiet one—too peaceful. Only the hum of the engine filled the space between us, and the low rumbling of my stomach. I hadn't eaten at the wedding.
August kept his eyes on the road, jaw tight, like I wasn't even there. I gripped the key in my hand so hard it left faint marks on my palm. A wedding gift. A house. *Our* house. My stomach twisted.
"So…" I said, breaking the silence, "So, husband, does your fiancée know that you're officially off the market now?"
His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. He didn't answer, which only made my smirk widen.
If he thought this drive was uncomfortable, wait until we get to the house.