Contradictions by Tiffany King Page B

help me cut my missing-assignments list in half. The schedule was grueling, and a week ago I would have nixed the idea of cutting into my social life, but things were different now.
    I was shoving my books and laptop in my bag when Trent switched the conversation from my dismal academics to food. “It’s past dinnertime. How about a pizza?”
    “Dinnertime? What are you, forty? We’re in college. We don’t follow any dinner bell. We eat when we’re hungry, day or night. Haven’t you ever been on a two A.M. taco run?”
    “An irregular diet is bad for your body,” he answered before blushing. “Not that there’s anything wrong with your body.” He looked away quickly when I caught his eyes drifting down my midriff.
    “You need to get out more often,” I mocked him, standing up with my bag. I kept my voice neutral so he wouldn’t become more embarrassed. “I need to run anyway.”
    “You run? Maybe we can go together one time.”
    My jaw dropped at his words before a laugh bubbled up through me. The way he took everything so literally was a bit adorable. Quirky, but adorable. We were as different as night and day. It was easier that he was like this. It would help remind my hormones that I should be keeping him at arm’s length.
    “I meant I have things to do. The only time I run is when someone is chasing me,” I joked, pawing through my bag for my keys.
    “I know. I was teasing you,” he said in a deep, husky voice.
    My eyes jerked up and I felt my pulse quicken. You’d think I’d never heard a sexy voice before. In my defense, that smooth, deep voice coming from his mouth was a bit of an oxymoron. The fact that he continued to surprise me was throwing me off guard. I was fine when I could put him in a box and tell myself he wasn’t for me, but keeping him there was proving to be harder than I expected.
    I had to get away before I did something stupid that we would probably both regret.
    “Just stick to what you’re good at,” I said. I threw out the snarky comment, pretending I didn’t notice the way his face fell as I walked past him. “See you tomorrow.”
    “Sure,” he answered as I closed the door.
    I berated myself during the short drive home. Why was I letting him get to me? If I was going to get through this mess, I needed to pull my head out of my ass.

9.
    For the next few days, I was able to stick to my guns and focus on the actual tutoring. It was only occasionally that I noticed small things like how his forearms were more muscular than I’d realized, or the way he liked to hum game show theme songs while he waited for me to answer a question. Holding our tutoring sessions at the library provided a more formal setting, which seemed to help. Although Trent’s humming garnered continuous looks from anyone sitting around us. Between that and his Tootsie Pop obsession, he was driving the library staff nuts. He’d been warned more than once that there was no eating or drinking in the library. Each time he was reprimanded, he would inform them that, technically, he was sucking on his lollipop, not eating or drinking it. Different staff workers would approach him each time, but their reaction was always the same. They would stand for a moment, trying to figure out if he was serious or just screwing with them. Eventually, they would walk away. I would laugh, but I empathized with them. Half the time I didn’t know if his dryness was real, or if he just liked effing with people’s heads.
    On Friday I arrived at the library before Trent, which was nothing new. I’d quickly realized that he was never on time. His brain, which was so brilliant in some respects, seemed oblivious to time schedules. It was ironic considering he was helping me become more organized.
    I was working on an assignment for my business management class when he finally showed up.
    “Late again,” I mocked. “You need an alarm clock superglued to your forehead.”
    “My eyes don’t roll up that high,” he