# Ep Four o’clock sharp.” I give her a little wave,: The Tutor, the Jock, and the Diner Standoff
Hello everyone, it's me again! How are you all doing? Today I will continue to walk with you and review Ep Four o’clock sharp.” I give her a little wave, of "The Deal: Off Campus". This chapter is a wonderful collision of old wounds, present-day stubbornness, and one hockey captain who simply refuses to hear the word no. So get comfortable, maybe skip the green juice, and let's step into Hannah Wells's world.
We begin with Hannah leaving the choir room and heading outside, and immediately the atmosphere of Briar University wraps around us. The campus is gorgeous in that old, elite, ivy-covered way—ancient buildings linked by cobblestone paths, sweeping elms, wrought-iron benches, and enough history to make any prospective student swoon. Briar is one of the oldest universities in the country, with alumni who have shaped politics, business, and culture. But for Hannah, the best part is not the prestige. It is the safety. The crime rate is practically zero. Dean Farrow pours money into cameras and friendly, unobtrusive security guards who patrol around the clock. It is not a prison, just a place where Hannah can breathe a little easier. And after a long day, that matters more than she lets on.
She walks back to Bristol House, the dorm she shares with Allie. It is more of a suite than a standard room—two bedrooms, a tiny common area, an even tinier kitchen, and a communal bathroom shared with four other girls on the floor. Hannah is exhausted. All she wants is a hot shower and her bed. But Allie pokes her head in, sucking on a straw from a glass of something green, chunky, and frankly horrifying. Allie has been juicing for two weeks, which means Hannah's mornings now come with the deafening whir of a blender. Still, this is normal life with Allie. They have lived together long enough that Hannah no longer bothers hiding her body when she changes. Freshman year, she used to undress under a blanket. Now she strips down to her underwear while Allie stands in the doorway. That is college. Privacy is a myth, and sooner or later you just accept it.
Then Allie says, "So listen..." And Hannah's guard goes up immediately. Two years of living together have taught her that "So listen" is code for something she does not want to hear. Sure enough, there is a party at Sigma house on Wednesday night. Allie's blue eyes are stern. Hannah is coming with her. Hannah groans. A frat party? No way. But Allie reminds her that midterms are over, so that excuse is dead. And Hannah promised she would make an effort to be more social this year.
That promise matters, but it is complicated. Hannah does not like parties. She was raped at a party. The word itself still lands like a slap, cold and ugly and demoralizing. She has worked hard in therapy to understand that it was not her fault, that the blame belongs solely to the person who hurt her. She is not a victim. She is a survivor. But that does not mean the assault did not change her. It did. It is why she carries pepper spray, why she keeps 911 ready on her phone, why she does not drink in public or accept beverages from anyone—not even Allie—because there is always a chance a cup could be tampered with. It is why parties can trigger her. A sound, a smell, a glimpse of something harmless can send her spiraling back to fifteen years old, trapped in a personal nightmare at Melissa Mayer's party.
Allie sees the distress on Hannah's face and softens. She promises they have done this before. Hannah will never be out of her sight. Neither of them will drink a single drop. Hannah feels shame and regret and awe, because Allie is an incredible friend. She does not have to stay sober and vigilant just to make Hannah comfortable, but she does it every time. Hannah hates that she has to. Still, she relents—for Allie and for herself. She promised to try new things this year, to lower her guard and stop being so afraid of the unfamiliar. Maybe a frat party will not be her idea of a great time, but who knows? Maybe she will enjoy it.
Then Allie plays her trump card: Justin is going to be there. Hannah's pulse jumps. Justin is the football player she has been quietly crushing on. Allie teases her mercilessly. Hannah defends him—he is not like the rest of the jocks. He is quiet, serious, smart. She saw him reading Hemingway in the quad. Allie is skeptical. She points out that Hannah has never spoken a single word to him, and now she is eavesdropping on his conversations. Hannah blushes. Allie declares that Wednesday night Hannah will exchange actual dialogue with Justin. She does not care if it is just "hey, how are ya." Hannah says maybe, if the opportunity arises. Allie vows to make it arise. "Capiche?" Hannah snickers, then relents. "Capiche." Allie tells her to hurry up and shower so they can watch a couple episodes of *Ted Lasso* before bed. Hannah bargains them down to one episode. "Capiche?" Allie grumbles back, "Capiche."
But before Hannah can even get to the bathroom, her phone meows—the annoying ringtone she chose for texts. It is Garrett. He wants to hammer out the details of the tutoring schedule. Hannah groans. How did he get her number? The study group signup sheet. Of course. She tries to shut him down, but Garrett is relentless. He is irritable, then playful, then flirtatious. He calls her "baby." He asks what it will take to get a yes. She says absolutely nothing. He jokes that she will do it for free. She claims she has the Spanish Flu. He reminds her he is immune to pandemics that wiped out forty million people from 1918 to 1919. She asks how he knows so much about pandemics. He says he is a history major, baby. Ugh. Again with the baby thing.
She tries to end the conversation. Good luck on the makeup exam. Then her phone meows again. A picture pops up. Against her better judgment, she clicks it. A bare chest fills the screen. Smooth tanned skin, sculpted pecs, the tightest six-pack she has ever seen. Hannah snorts out loud. She texts: Did you just send me a pic of your chest?! He says yup. Did it work? She says in icking her out? Yes. Success! He says he is trying to butter her up. She threatens to post it on My Briar, the school's version of Facebook. He says go for it—lots of chicks will be happy to have it in their spank banks. Hannah tells him to lose this number, dude. She means it. Then she tosses her phone on the bed and finally takes her shower.
Then we slide into Chapter Four, and Hannah is at work. Briar is five miles from Hastings, Massachusetts, a tiny town with one main street and only about two dozen shops and restaurants. Hannah waitresses at Della's, a 50s-themed diner she has worked at since freshman year. Tonight she got lucky and drove over using Tracy's car. Tracy lets her borrow it whenever she does not need it, as long as Hannah returns it with a full tank. It is a sweet deal, especially in winter when the whole area turns into a snow-covered skating rink. Hannah does not love her job, but she does not hate it either. It pays well and is close to campus. But tonight, she is definitely allowed to complain. Because thirty minutes before her shift ends, Garrett Graham slides into one of her booths.
Seriously. Does this guy ever give up? She has no desire to serve him, but Lisa is busy with a group of faculty members, and Della is behind the counter dishing out pecan pie. So Hannah sets her jaw and marches over. Garrett grins, all twinkling gray eyes and messy dark hair. "Hey there, Hannah. Fancy meeting you here." She asks what he wants. He says, "A tutor." She smiles sweetly and tells him that is not on the menu, but the pecan pie is good. He ignores the sarcasm and tells her he went to study group. Eight other people. The highest mark was a C-plus. Combined average: a D. How is he supposed to pass his makeup exam studying with people as dumb as he is? He needs her, Wellsy.
Wellsy? He learned a lot about her in study group—her number, her full name, where she works. Hannah calls him a stalker. He says he is just thorough. He likes to know what he is up against. She snaps that she is not tutoring him, and if he is not ordering, he should go away. He orders a turkey club, a bacon double cheeseburger, then changes his mind—yes to fries, plus onion rings. Hannah's jaw almost hits the floor. He grins. "I'm a growing boy." But there is nothing boyish about Garrett Graham. He is all man—chiseled, tall, ripped. She remembers that picture he sent and hates herself for it. He also orders pecan pie, a Dr. Pepper, and some tutoring. She says not on the menu, but the rest is coming right up.
She places the order with Julio, the night cook. Lisa rushes over, horrified that Hannah is not freaking out. That is Garrett Graham. He is gorgeous. Lisa heard he is amazing in bed. Hannah snorts; he probably started that rumor himself. Lisa says Samantha Richardson told her—best sex of her life. Hannah could not care less. She hands Lisa the Dr. Pepper and tells her to take his booth. Lisa gasps like Hannah just handed her five million dollars. She promises she owes Hannah big. Hannah wants to tell her she is actually doing Hannah the favor, but Lisa is already dashing toward Garrett. Garrett's expression clouds over. He picks up the glass, meets Hannah's gaze, and slants his head. As if to say: you're not getting rid of me that easily.
And he means it. Garrett is a stubborn athlete. They never, ever give up. He endures Lisa's flirting for twenty minutes, but his gaze stays glued to Hannah. He notices her uniform—powder-blue dress, white collar, big buttons, short white apron. Very *Grease*. He wonders about her story. Study group told him she is from a small town in the Midwest. Someone said she dated a guy in a band all through sophomore year. Otherwise, she is a mystery. When Lisa asks if he needs anything else, he asks when Hannah's shift ends. Lisa is suspicious, but he lies and says Hannah is in one of his classes and he wants to talk about an assignment. Lisa says Hannah is off now, but she cannot leave until her table does.
Garrett pays, says goodbye, and goes outside to wait. Five minutes later, the older couple leaves. A minute after that, Hannah appears. She buttons her coat and heads toward the side of the building. Garrett hurries after her. "Wellsy, wait up." She frowns. "For the love of God, I'm not tutoring you." He shrugs. "Sure you are. I just need to figure out what you want in return." She whirls around like a dark-haired tornado. She wants to not tutor him. That is what she wants. He muses that it is not money. Not booze. Not weed. Then he offers a date. That gets her attention. She straightens up, astonished. "What?" He says, "Ah. I've got your attention." She says he has her disgust. Does he actually think she wants to go out with him? He says everyone wants to go out with him. She bursts out laughing, and he likes the sound of it—husky, musical, tickling his ears.
She asks if he admires himself in the mirror for one hour or two. He says two. She asks if he high-fives himself. He says of course not—he kisses each of his biceps and thanks the big man upstairs for creating such a perfect male specimen. She snorts and tells him she is not interested in dating him. He clarifies: he is not looking for a love connection. He knows she is not into him. If it makes her feel better, he is not into her either. She says that does make her feel better—she was starting to worry she might actually be his type, and that is too terrifying to contemplate. When she tries to duck into her car, he curls his fingers over the doorframe. He is talking about image. Does she think she would be the first girl who went out with him to boost her popularity? It happens all the time. Hannah laughs again. She is perfectly content with her current rung on the social ladder, but thanks for offering to boost her popularity. He is a prince, really.
Frustration scrambles up Garrett's throat. "What'll it take to change your mind?" "Nothing. You're wasting your time." She shakes her head, looking as frustrated as he feels. She tells him if he took all the effort he is using to harass her and channeled it into his studies, he would get an A-plus-plus-plus on that midterm. Then she shoves his hand out of the way, slides into the driver's seat, and shuts the door. The engine roars to life, and Garrett is pretty sure that if he had not stepped back in time, she would have run right over his foot. He wonders if Hannah Wells was an athlete in another life, because she is one stubborn woman. He stares at her blinking red taillights and tries to figure out his next move. Absolutely nothing comes to mind.
**Reader's Impressions & Star Rating:**
This chapter is a beautiful balancing act. It gives us the spark and banter of a classic enemies-to-lovers romance, but it also refuses to shy away from Hannah's trauma. Her PTSD is written with care, not sensationalism. Allie's fierce, loyal friendship made my heart ache in the best way. And Garrett? He is cocky, infuriating, and strangely charming. His persistence is borderline pushy, but he is also clearly fascinated by Hannah in a way that goes beyond just needing a tutor. The diner scene crackles with tension, and that final image of him standing in the parking lot with no next move is perfect. I am hooked.
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 4.8 / 5 Stars
**Next Chapter Prediction:**
Garrett is not going to give up. He has already learned that Hannah's weak spot is Justin, and he is a history major who knows how to use information. I predict he will show up again—maybe at her dorm, maybe with a new offer. The title *The Deal* is about to click into place: Hannah tutors Garrett for his makeup exam, and in exchange, Garrett helps her get Justin's attention. It will be a fake-dating or coaching arrangement that forces them into close quarters, endless banter, and slowly building chemistry. Hannah will resist, but Garrett's charm and unexpected depth will start to wear her down. I cannot wait.
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