Diamonds in the Rough

But it wouldn’t be like that between Courtney and Brett…. They were different. She couldn’t ignore her feelings for him because they might break up in the future.

On the other hand, Rebecca’s logic was irrefutable. If they did break up, they would be forced to see each other often. They would be a part of the same family. Every time they were around each other would be incredibly painful. Courtney was already dealing with that now, and they’d only been “together” for a week. What if they were together for months, and then had to go through something similar to what they were going through now? It would be torturous.

The smartest long-term decision was to push aside her feelings for Brett to save herself from that hurt in the future.

So after talking with Rebecca, Courtney had had a similar conversation with Brett, during which she’d explained the reasons they couldn’t date. He’d avoided her for weeks.

Now he was practically begging her to give them another chance. But despite wanting to give in—to say yes, she wanted to be together, and see how happy those words made him—she couldn’t do it. She would disappoint the family, and the pain she would go through if it didn’t work out between them scared her. Her sisters believed she was strong, that she could remain levelheaded in the face of anything, but that was only because she kept herself from making unwise decisions to begin with.

“What do you say?” Brett asked again. “Do you want to see where this leads?”

“We can’t.” Courtney pulled her hand away and laid it in her lap. Despite the desert heat, her skin felt cold where it had been touching his.

He sat back and scowled. “Is that really how you feel, or do you just not want to disappoint Adrian?”

“Not wanting to disappoint Adrian and your mom is part of it,” Courtney said, her voice low. “But you know my main reason.”

“How if it doesn’t work out, we’ll never get the space we need because we’ll be in the same family.” Brett repeated what she’d told him after that brunch with Rebecca.

“Yes.” She nodded, her throat tight from forcing the word out. “We’re not just two people who happened to fall for each other. In less than a year our parents will be married. If it doesn’t work between us, it could get extremely messy. We would still have to see each other, and it would be painful. Like what we’re going through now times a thousand.”

“So you do still have feelings for me.” His eyes gleamed triumphantly, and she couldn’t lie to him and deny it. “I knew it. But there’s another way to look at this…the way I choose to look at this. What if it does work out? Wouldn’t it be worth it?”

For a brief moment, Courtney imagined pushing aside logic and acting on her feelings. She loved spending time with Brett, and trusted that whatever was between them was real and deserved a chance. Maybe it would work, and maybe it wouldn’t. If it didn’t work out, she could worry about it then. That’s what Peyton would do. Sometimes Courtney wished she could be daring like her older sister, and let loose and enjoy the present without worrying about the future.

She could wish it all she wanted, but it wouldn’t change who she was.

“We can’t risk it.” Courtney forced herself to sound strong. “Besides, if we dated secretly, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it. I would worry about Adrian and Rebecca finding out, and about how we would never be able to get space from each other if it didn’t end well. I can’t put myself through that.”

“I can’t imagine wanting to end things with you,” he said, looking at her like he truly believed it. “So you have no reason to be afraid of that happening. I promise.”

Her heart melted at how undeniably sweet that was, and she trusted that, in this moment, he meant every word.

“That’s how you feel now.” She blinked away tears. “But you don’t know if you’ll still feel that way weeks from now, or months from now. It’s not a promise I could hold you to.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, taking her by surprise. It was what she’d wanted him to say, but now that he had, she felt as empty as before—maybe more so. “Not that we can’t be together,” he clarified, “but that we can’t know what will happen between us in the future. If we don’t give this a chance, we’ll never know. And I don’t know about you, but I couldn’t live with that. The only way to know is to try.”

Courtney’s heart raced; she wasn’t sure how much more of this she could take before she caved. If he didn’t stop pushing her, she would have only two options—give in and ruin whatever trust she was building with Adrian and Rebecca and risk putting herself through undeniable heartbreak, or distance herself from Brett and not even be friends with him. And as much as imagining them being only friends hurt, it had to be better than nothing. Right?

“You’re making this so hard for me,” she said. “But you know my reasons, and I hope you can understand and respect them.”

“I understand them,” he said, although the determination hadn’t left his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I agree with them.”

He dropped it after that, although she couldn’t help feeling that it was only for now, and he wasn’t giving up. Which should have frustrated her. She should make him promise to drop it completely, and not push her again.

But she couldn’t do that. Because, while she wanted to believe everything she was saying, she still wondered what would happen if she could set aside her inhibitions and see what they could have together.

* * *

The student tutoring meeting started fifteen minutes after last period, but Courtney didn’t want to be late, so she went straight there. One other person had the same idea: Madison Lockhart. Courtney didn’t dislike many people, but she hadn’t liked Madison since she’d kissed Damien in front of Savannah and made Savannah cry. Even worse, Madison hadn’t seemed sorry about it.

Madison glanced at Courtney and draped her long dark hair in front of her shoulders. “If you’re signing up to get tutored, you’ll have to wait until Friday,” she said, her voice so fakely sweet that it made Courtney want to roll her eyes. “This meeting is for the tutors only.”

“Then I’m in the right place.” Courtney sat down, leaving an empty seat between her and Madison, and dropped her bag onto the floor next to her feet. “I tutored at my last school, and I want to tutor here, too.”

“You can’t just decide to be a tutor,” Madison said. “You need recommendations from teachers you’ve completed courses with at Goodman. Since you’re new, that means you’ll have to wait until at least next semester.”

Courtney matched Madison’s fake smile at the victory she knew was coming, which was petty, but she deserved it. “Over the summer I emailed the teacher in charge of student tutoring with recommendations from my teachers at Fairfield,” she said. “She looked them over and said she would be happy to have me as an English tutor for lower classmen.”

“Oh.” Madison frowned. “Well, if you only tutor in En­glish, you won’t be working with your future stepbrother.”

“Brett?” Courtney’s heart leaped. “I didn’t know you knew each other.”

“I tutored him in bio.” She tossed her hair back and smiled, as if enjoying a private joke. “We had one-on-one tutoring sessions in the private rooms all last semester, and let’s just say we got to know each other pretty well.”

“How well?” Courtney’s chest tightened at what Madison was hinting.

But Madison couldn’t have been involved with Brett. He would have said something, and besides, he would never be interested in Madison. She was the type of Goodman snob he didn’t hang out with—the type of girl who was ignorant of everything outside of her one-percenter bubble. What could they have in common?

“I got to know him well enough,” Madison said. “When two people spend that much time together, they form some sort of connection. We hung out a few times over the summer, too. I’m surprised he hasn’t mentioned it.”

Courtney’s fingers clenched into fists, and she wanted to demand that Madison explain what she meant. But before she had a chance, three more girls walked in, followed by the teacher.

Throughout the introductory session, Courtney kept imagining Madison tutoring Brett in one of the individual rooms, the two of them getting to know each other until they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. And Madison had more experience than Courtney—Courtney’s only kiss had been with Brett at the grand opening. (There was also the time Oliver had tried to kiss her on the way home from the charity event held by his mom that she’d been forced to attend with him, but that didn’t count.)

The images of Madison and Brett in a small room together—using the table to study biology in a way quite different from reading about it in a textbook—made Courtney’s mind fuzzy and unfocused through the entire meeting. She barely heard a word.

If Madison had said that stuff to distract her, it had worked. But Courtney wasn’t having it. She also didn’t trust Madison to be honest.

There was only one way to find out the truth: she had to ask Brett herself.

* * *

Once back at the Diamond, Courtney knocked on Brett’s door. She needed to speak with him in person—this wasn’t something she wanted to ask via text message or over the phone. And it wasn’t a far trek, since their condos were across the hall.

Brett’s eyebrows shot up when he opened the door. Then he smiled, as if he thought her being there meant she’d changed her mind about them being together. Her stomach twisted at how off guard he would be when he found out the reason for her visit.

Courtney took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Approaching Brett was the right thing to do—it was the only thing she could do to keep the what-ifs from driving her crazy and messing up her focus in school. She was here to make sure she stayed on track academically.

It would be easier to convince herself of that if her heart hadn’t started pounding the moment she saw Brett.

“Hey.” He opened the door wider and motioned for her to come in. She did, keeping her hands gripped around the straps of her backpack so he couldn’t see them shaking.

His condo was nearly identical to the one Courtney shared with her sisters—a foyer, living room with a panoramic view of the Strip, dining area, kitchen and a door to the master bedroom, all in a sleek contemporary style. The only difference was that his didn’t have the extra hallway that led to the other two bedrooms.

“Are you busy?” Courtney asked.

“Just watching The Walking Dead,” he replied. Courtney glanced at the ninety-inch television—the same size as the one in her and her sisters’ living room—which was paused on an image of a fierce black woman swinging a sword at a bloodied, decaying monster. “I’m on season three.”