Chapter 8 8
What’s up, teddy bear? 😁
Her phone chimed softly.
It was an old Android her grandfather’s, now hers. The screen was slightly scratched, the battery temperamental, but it worked. She didn’t need to check the sender. No one had her number except Alfonso and her boss at the café.
She smiled and typed back.
Still alive, you carbonated menace. 😂
A minute passed before her phone buzzed again.
Be ready on Sunday. 🙃😉
Her brow lifted at the winking emoji.
For what? 🤨
The reply came almost instantly.
It’s your birthday, dumbo. And the food is on me.
A wide smile spread across her lips. He remembered her birthday better than she did.
Of course the food is on you. Gosh. 😋🤩🥳
I’ll eat the whole restaurant.
Another message followed.
I’ll pick you up at 8. ❤️
Her smile lingered, warm and genuine.
It was Friday the last day of an exhausting week. The only bright spot had been the absence of Mr. Ruiz. After ordering her to come for tutoring, he hadn’t shown up for two days, and she’d been secretly grateful. The thought of being alone with him in his office tied her stomach in knots.
At her locker, she slipped her books inside and pulled out her math textbook. She headed toward class, silently hoping the room would be empty.
Her hope died the moment she stepped inside.
He was already there mid-lecture.
She was late.
He didn’t even turn around.
“You’re late, Ms. Rodríguez.”
Sofía swallowed hard and hurried to the seat in the first row the one he’d forced her to take last time. How did he always know she was there without looking?
“Sorry,” she murmured, dropping into her chair and immediately copying notes as he wrote on the board.
The moment class ended, she was the first out the door.
She slipped into the restroom and began pacing, nerves fraying. Now that he was back, he would expect her in his office. How was she supposed to tell him that she could barely breathe when he was near? That his presence alone was enough to rattle her?
The restroom door swung open.
In walked Lucía.
Tall, blonde, pale-skinned her lips painted black, giving her a gothic, witch-like air. That was why Sofía thought of her as the black witch.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Lucía snapped, her voice erupting like a volcano.
Sofía stepped back instinctively. “What are you talking about?” she asked softly, genuinely confused.
“I know what a whore you are,” Lucía hissed, “but stay the fuck away from my Fernando or you’ll find out exactly what I’m capable of.”
She grabbed Sofía’s backpack and threw it onto the floor.
Shock rendered Sofía speechless.
Her Fernando?
As in… Mr. Ruiz?
“This is your first and last warning, fatty!” Lucía screamed, shoving her shoulder hard enough to make her stumble back. The wall caught her, sparing her from falling.
Lucía stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
Sofía stood frozen.
What had just happened?
Lucía the black bitch had threatened her over their teacher. She’d acted like a jealous girlfriend.
Another problem. Another weight added to an already overflowing plate.
If Sofía went to Mr. Ruiz’s office and Lucía saw her who would save her from that witch’s fury?
She picked up her backpack, dusted it off, and hugged it close.
She had to tell him she couldn’t continue the tutoring.
The rest of her classes blurred past, and before she knew it, it was time.
With every step toward his office, her heartbeat accelerated. She lingered outside the door for a full five minutes, summoning courage she wasn’t sure she possessed.
Finally, she knocked.
“Come in.”
She twisted the knob and stepped inside.
The scent hit her instantly strong, masculine cologne layered with a faint trace of cigarettes. It was unmistakably him.
Didn’t he know the rules? Smoking wasn’t allowed on campus.
Her eyes swept the room. Dark gray and white walls. A sturdy desk centered in the space. A couch along the left wall, a bookshelf to the right, and a large window opposite it all.
The office was… beautiful.
“Mr. Ruiz, I”
“Sit down.”
His tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.
She obeyed, settling into the chair across from him. Before she could speak again, he placed a stack of papers in front of her.
“Let’s start with this,” he said, pointing to the first problem.
Torn between voicing her fears and following his instruction, she chose the latter and began writing. The distance between them was a relief.
That relief vanished when he stood.
She bit her lower lip as he circled the desk and stopped directly behind her chair. Focusing on math was difficult enough doing it with him looming over her was nearly impossible.
“You’re doing it wrong,” he muttered.
Her eyes lifted for the first time since entering the room.
He wasn’t looking at her, his attention was on the desk as he unfastened his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves. Veined, muscular arms emerged, inked with dark tattoos.
Her breath caught.
He looked like he was preparing for war.
Pulling a chair closer, he sat beside her and slid it toward the desk until the paper lay between them.
“You’re lacking here. Pay attention,” he said, already correcting her work.
Her eyes slowly softened from shock as she tried to absorb his explanation.
When he finished, he set the pen down and turned to her.
“Is it clear?”
She lifted her head to nod
and stopped.
Forest green met ocean blue.