IVY POV
The hiccups wouldn't stop as I followed him upstairs, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Every step made me feel like the world was watching me fail.
We entered a huge lounge that took my breath away. Dark hardwood floors gleamed under soft, golden lighting. Plush sofas and armchairs were scattered around, some with velvet throws. A massive fireplace dominated one wall, flames dancing behind glass. Floor-to-ceiling windows showed the city lights outside, and I could see that the room was decorated with expensive art, crystal chandeliers, and a bar in the corner stocked with everything I couldn't even name. It was… overwhelming.
And of course, my hiccups wouldn't stop.
Ronan turned to Walter, his face unreadable, lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, he spoke.
"Walter, get her a glass of water… or a jug. I don't think a glass can stop this," he said, mockingly calm.
I glared at him, my cheeks burning hotter.
Walter moved quietly to the fridge and handed me a bottle of water. I grabbed it, swallowing quickly. The cool liquid felt like a tiny relief down my throat.
"Feeling better, Ivy?" Walter asked softly, his voice kind.
"Yeah… thanks," I mumbled, trying to hide my embarrassment.
Ronan's eyes were on me, cold and sharp, and I felt every ounce of his scrutiny.
"If you're done acting weird, let's get down to why you're here," he said, voice clipped. "As you can see, I'm super exhausted. I have to be at the ice rink by 10 a.m., so let's make this fast."
I stared at him angrily, my hands clenching around my bag. Fast? You wake me up at 2 a.m., drag me into your world, and you want fast?
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to calm down. I pulled out my books—Linear and Quadratic Equations, Polynomials and Factoring—and also my study plan that I had drafted. I set them neatly on the table and took a seat, my hands still trembling slightly, my mind trying to focus despite the lingering hiccups and the overwhelming presence of Ronan Hale.
I wasn't going to let him intimidate me. Not completely. Not today.
"Here's the study plan I drafted," I said, setting it in front of him. "This should help with the simple Algebra you're failing—Linear and Quadratic Equations, Polynomials, and Factoring."
I grabbed a copy of his last exam results from Professor Reyes. I hadn't had a chance to check them yet, but now seemed like a good time. I flipped through the pages quickly.
"You're failing Spanish?" I asked, genuinely surprised.
"Why are you so surprised?" he said coldly, his blue eyes boring into me.
"Who fails Spanish? What have you been doing with your life?" I asked, trying not to sound completely horrified.
"Living a life you couldn't even think of," he said smoothly, like failing Spanish was somehow a badge of honor.
I let out a long, slow breath, trying to keep my temper in check. "If you didn't spend most of your time being a jerk, you probably wouldn't be failing."
He opened his mouth to reply, and I raised my hand, cutting him off before he could charm his way out.
"First, tell me what you know about Linear and Quadratic Equations, Polynomials, and Factoring," I said, my voice firmer now. "What parts don't you understand?"
"Everything," he said casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
I blinked. I laughed, disbelief spilling out of me. "You've got to be joking. Everything? Are you serious? You don't know anything?"
He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck like it was no big deal.. Then he muttered, eyes darting around, "Uh… it's got… um… polypolynomials? And, uh… something with lines… like linear… and… square… uh… roots? And letters… lots of letters… floating around?"
I raised an eyebrow. "Letters floating around?"
"Yeah," he said, waving his hands. "And powers! Like… number powers? And factoring? Or… factory-ing? Something like that. Maybe graphs… with curves… yeah… curves that hate me."
I felt my jaw drop. This is impossible. My stomach twisted with frustration, but I also couldn't help the tiny, bitter laugh escaping me.
"Okay, fine, let's try something simple," I said through gritted teeth, trying to channel my anger into focus. "Linear Equations first. You know that's just solving for x in equations like ax + b = 0, right? You've got to isolate the variable. Then Quadratic Equations… that's ax² + bx + c = 0. We can factor them, complete the square, or use the quadratic formula. Polynomials? That's just expressions with multiple terms—x² + 3x + 2, for example. Factoring… well, that's taking a polynomial and breaking it down into simpler expressions that multiply to give you the original."
I took a deep breath, glancing at him. His expression was unreadable. Cool. Calm. Too calm.
"And you, Mr. Hale," I added, trying not to let my frustration slip too much, "don't know any of that. Not the rules, not the formulas, not how to simplify a single polynomial. And somehow, you expect to pass?"
He tilted his head and gave me a small smirk, like he wasn't worried at all. My stomach flipped. I'm going to lose my mind with this guy.
I tried to steady myself, my hands clutching my notebook. This was going to be a long semester.
But I wasn't about to back down… not from Ronan Hale, not from Algebra, not from anything.