From that day on, Sharon made a point of tutoring Harry in the most conspicuous way possible.

The sounds of their sessions echoed through the classroom. Even with earplugs in, I could still make out snippets of it.

I had started studying on my own, but I was still working through the basics, carefully rebuilding my foundation from the ground up.

Harry seemed particularly irritated by my efforts. One afternoon, he sauntered over to my desk, holding a textbook freshly marked up with Sharon's highlights, and dangled it in front of me like a taunt.

"Josh, studying by yourself now? Making any real progress, or just staring at the pages?" he taunted. "I've got Sharon's latest notes right here. They could really help if you wanted to borrow them."

He paused, adding, "Oh, I almost forgot. She doesn't tutor you anymore. Guess these notes stay with me for now."

His voice had a sharp, grating edge that drew attention from nearly half the class. Even Sharon, who usually ignored the room's drama, glanced over with a disinterested look.

I rested my chin on my hand and regarded him with mild amusement. "You have time to worry about my habits? Maybe you should check your physics scores first—the ones still stuck in single digits."

Harry's face turned a deep red, a mix of embarrassment and anger twisting his features.

Sharon walked over and tapped on my desk. "Let's talk outside."

Before I could respond, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the hallway. Her lips were pressed into a thin line.

"If you can ignore Harry's comments," she said tightly, "I'll keep tutoring you, just like before."

Since I ended our arrangement, word had spread that she had returned to her part-time job at the school cafeteria. It seemed her money was running low again, and she was turning back to me for an easy fix.

Apparently, she still saw me as a bottomless source of handouts.

"No thanks," I refused flatly.

She gripped my shoulders, her eyes flickering with anger. "We were doing fine for two years! Is this because of how close Harry and I are? Are you jealous, or is this some kind of game to pull me back in?"

A small crowd had gathered at the classroom door, whispering and pointing as they watched the scene unfold.

Unwilling to make things physical, I tried to reason with her. "I'm serious. There is no need for your help anymore. Please let go."

Sharon's stare remained fixed on me, intense and unyielding, as if she could force the answer she wanted out of me. That obsessive look reminded me of how, in my past life, she had poisoned me and kicked me while I lay dying.

Her capacity for violence had been there all along. In my old life, my infatuation had blinded me to it, dismissing her flaws as passion.

A hand suddenly tapped Sharon's shoulder. "Hey, if he says he doesn't need your paid lessons anymore, isn't pushing him for money a bit desperate?"

I looked over and saw my deskmate, Liliane Hale, an unreachable beauty at our school.