Read Miss Me Not for Free Online Page A

know, tutoring and helping you study for exams."
    "What is this, save-a-loser day?" I asked, making it clear I wanted the conversation to be over.
    "You're not a loser," he said, looking like I had offended him somehow.
    Someone at a nearby table shushed him.
    "I am, and guess what? I don't give a shit. Got me? I'm a nobody . You don't need to save me. No one does," I said.
    My tone took the wind out of his anger. "I can help you," he repeated calmly.
    "Look, scholar boy, I don't need your help. I just don't care about this stuff. Don't take it personally."
    "Why?" he asked, looking down at the book.
    "Why, what?" I asked, trying to cover my impatient sigh.
    "Why don't you care?"
    I eyed him, wondering if he was yanking my chain. "Seriously, either you're trying to be an ass or you're dumb as one," I said, tapping my pencil on the table in aggravation that we were even having this conversation.
    He raised his eyebrows at me before answering in short drawn out words. "I. Want. To. Help. You. Got me?"
    "Do I have ' charity case ' stamped on my forehead? Or wait, are you trying to punk me? Because seriously, I've seen all the movies. Pretend to befriend a social outcast and then just when she starts to trust you, throw pig's blood or something equally as macabre on her in front of all your cronies. I'm not a fool," I said, dismissing him as I jotted down the next answer on my worksheet.
    He remained silent, and after a moment, I couldn't resist chancing a discreet look at him beneath the veil of my hair. His eyes clashed with mine, and I swallowed the sudden uncomfortable lump in my throat from the hurt look on his face.
    I actually felt a little guilty which was a shock . I didn't do guilt anymore. I may pay the price for my sins for the rest of my life, but I'd vowed I'd no longer get trapped into feeling guilty. I didn't ask for anything. I didn't owe anyone anything. Anger replaced the guilt that was making me feel emotions that were dead to me. Damn him. Why couldn't he take pity on some stray animal or something? Wasn't there a whale to save or some dolphin with a broken fin that needed attention?
    The silence between us stretched on uncomfortably, and I tried to ignore it as I continued to scratch the answers out on my paper. I waited for him to move on to the next question, but he remained stoically silent with his arms crossed over his chest. I knew this game. He could sit there like that until hell froze over for all I cared. I would not cave.
    And that's pretty much how the rest of tutoring went. I searched for the answers while he sat silently next to me, never moving a muscle. When the hour ended, I stood up and gathered my things, preparing to leave without a word.
    "Same time tomorrow?" he said, leaving before I could.
    I stood there shell shocked. He didn't really think I was coming back again? I'd pretty much chalked up the whole experience as a failed attempt at being normal.
    Dean was long gone by the time I finally shook myself out of my stupor and headed out of the library with the clearly aggravated librarian on my heals. I was tempted to tell her to get a grip. So she had to stay five extra minutes while I stood like a guppy with my mouth open. You didn't see me bitching that I was forced to stay late at the bane of my existence. Shit happens. Get used to it.
    I wasn't surprised when she left me on the sidewalk outside the front doors of the school without a word, hurrying off toward the lone car in the parking lot.
    People didn't enjoy being sucked into the shadows that were my constant companion. They wanted perky, cheerful and butterflies out the ass as they danced beneath rainbows and singing birds. They didn't want silence and darkness.
    The two-mile walk home went fast as I contemplated the disastrous tutoring session. I mentally kicked myself for even saying anything. I'd broken my code by opening my mouth. One thing was for sure, he could wait all afternoon for me, but I wouldn't be there the next