# Chapter 7: The Tutor, the Puck Bunny, and the Playlist War
Hello everyone, it’s me again! How are you all doing? Today I will continue to walk with you and review Chapter 7 of "The Deal: Off Campus." Get comfortable, because this chapter is a delicious mix of awkward tutoring sessions, hockey-house chaos, and one very stubborn girl trying not to admit that Garrett Graham might be more than just a cocky jock.
Hannah opens the chapter already scolding herself. Agreeing to tutor Garrett was, in her words, stupider than stupid. She is driving to his house the next evening, still cursing the moment she let him corner her at the Sigma party. She had every intention of telling him to leave her alone, but then he dangled Justin Kohl in front of her like a carrot, and Hannah caved like a cheap tent. She knows exactly how pathetic that sounds. When it comes to Justin, she has zero common sense. She left the party wanting to forget him, and instead she walked away filled with the most dangerous emotion of all: hope. Hope that Justin might notice her. Hope that he might want her. Hope that she might finally feel something real.
And that hope terrifies her, because Hannah has dated two guys since the attack. She slept with both of them. Neither of them made her feel as hot and achy as Justin does with a single heavy-lidded look. Her old therapist, Carole, would probably tell her that this is an opportunity worth exploring. Carole was all about empowerment, about taking control of life and grabbing hold of anything that helps put the past behind you. So Hannah forces herself out of the car.
Garrett’s townhouse is two stories, white stucco, tidy lawn, and absolutely full of boys. Rock music blares inside. The door swings open to reveal a tall, spiky-haired blond with a chiseled face straight off a magazine cover. He looks Hannah up and down and drawls that his birthday isn’t until next week, but if she is an early gift, he isn’t complaining. Hannah is instantly insulted. Then Garrett appears, barefoot in faded jeans and a threadbare gray T-shirt, his hair damp from the shower. He calls her Wellsy and tells her she’s late. She snaps back that she said eight fifteen, and it is eight fifteen. When she accuses the blond of implying she was a hooker, Garrett turns and scolds him: that’s his tutor, show some respect. The blond argues that he didn’t think she was a hooker—he thought she was a stripper, because she’s wearing a costume. Hannah has to admit her waitress uniform isn’t subtle.
The roommate, Dean, announces he wants a stripper for his birthday. Garrett promises to make some calls, but once Dean is gone, he admits they actually all pitched in to get his car detailed. It still reeks because Hollis barfed in the back seat and Dean is too lazy to get it cleaned. Hannah snickers, and Garrett pounces on it like a mountain lion. He can’t believe she laughed. He asks her to do it again so he can film it. She tells him she laughs all the time—mostly at him. He clutches his chest in mock pain.
Then Garrett says the words that make Hannah’s stomach flip: let’s go up to my room. She is apprehensive about being alone with him, but she follows. On the way, a male voice shouts for the tutor to get in the living room. Hannah meets Logan, a dark-haired, blue-eyed charmer who sternly informs her that Garrett needs to ace this test, or he will be very, very upset. His gaze sweeps over her body, lingering on her chest. Garrett snorts and tells him not to waste his time; Hannah is immune to flirting. He introduces Logan, then Dean from the hall, and Tucker on the couch—another unfairly gorgeous hockey player. Hannah wonders if “sexy as fuck” is a requirement for living in this house. Tucker calls her Wellsy, and she realizes with a sigh that the nickname is sticking. Garrett also announces she’s the star of the Christmas recital. She corrects him: winter showcase.
Upstairs, Garrett’s room is huge, clearly the master bedroom with a private bath. Hannah asks if she can change out of her uniform. Garrett flops onto his bed and says he’ll sit there and enjoy the show. She clarifies she meant in the washroom. He says that’s no fun. She mutters that nothing about this is fun. The bathroom is cleaner than she expects, with faint woodsy aftershave in the air. She changes into yoga pants and a black sweater, pulls her hair into a ponytail, and returns.
Garrett is still on the bed, glued to his phone. Hannah dumps an armful of books onto the mattress and sarcastically asks if he’s ready to do this shit. He says yeah, one sec, then finally puts the phone down. Since the desk chair and armchair are both buried under clothes, Hannah reluctantly sits cross-legged on the bed. They start with Kant. She opens the binder and tells him to read out loud, then summarize. For a moment, Garrett’s bottom lip quivers, and he says this might be the wrong time to tell her, but he can’t read. Hannah’s jaw drops—until he barks out a laugh and admits he’s joking. Then he scowls. Did she actually think he couldn’t read? She smiles sweetly and says it wouldn’t have surprised her in the slightest.
But Garrett does surprise her. He reads the material in a smooth, articulate voice and summarizes Kant’s Categorical Imperative almost word-for-word. Hannah asks if he has a photographic memory. He says no, he’s just good with facts. His problem is applying the theories to moral situations. Hannah cuts him some slack, ranting that it’s total bullshit. How can they be sure what long-dead philosophers would think about Tolbert’s hypotheticals? Right and wrong isn’t black and white. It’s more complex.
Then his phone buzzes. And buzzes. And buzzes. Garrett keeps texting, apologizing, promising to put it on silent, but the screen keeps lighting up. Hannah finally snaps and confiscates the phone. She clicks on the message icon and finds messages from a number with no name. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out the sender is female—unless some guy out there wants to “lick Garrett all over.” Hannah accuses him of sexting during a tutoring session. Garrett sighs and says he isn’t sexting; she is. Hannah reads his responses and realizes he’s telling the truth. Every message he sent says busy, studying, talk later. So Hannah starts typing. Garrett protests and tries to grab the phone, but it’s too late. She sends: This is Garrett’s tutor. You’re annoying me. We’re done in thirty minutes. I’m confident you can keep your pants zipped until then. Garrett reads it and laughs so loudly that Hannah can’t help but smile. He admits it’s more effective than his half-assed leave me alones.
Hannah assumes it’s his girlfriend. Garrett says no, she’s a puck bunny he hooked up with last year. Hannah is horrified by the term. Is that what he calls women? Garrett bites back that when a woman is only interested in sleeping with a hockey player so she can brag to her friends that she bagged one, then yeah, that’s what they call them. If anything, he says, he’s the one being objectified. Hannah tells him whatever helps him sleep at night, then moves on to utilitarianism and Bentham.
Afterward, she quizzes him on both philosophers. Garrett answers everything correctly, even the curveballs. Hannah realizes he didn’t just memorize the information—there is genuine comprehension. The ethical ideas have truly sunk in. It’s a shame the makeup exam isn’t multiple choice, because he could pass it with flying colors. They plan to tackle postmodernism tomorrow. Hannah has rehearsal until six, Garrett has practice until seven, so they agree on eight.
Hannah ducks into the bathroom before leaving. When she comes out, she finds Garrett scrolling through her phone. She explodes—did he go through her bag? He protests that her phone was hanging out of the front pocket, and he was curious about her music. He starts reading names out loud: Etta James, Adele, Queen, Ella Fitzgerald, Aretha, the Beatles. He calls it wicked eclectic. Then he shakes his head in dismay. Did she know there’s One Direction on here? Hannah oozes sarcasm: no, really? It must have downloaded itself. Garrett says he’s lost all respect for her. She’s supposed to be a music major. Hannah snatches the phone back and says One Direction does great harmonies. Garrett strongly disagrees. He declares he’ll make her a playlist, because obviously she needs to learn the distinction between good music and shitty music. He asks how she feels about Lynyrd Skynyrd—or does she only like bands where the guys coordinate their outfits? Hannah bites out a good night and marches out of the room, ready to tear her hair out. She can’t believe she agreed to a week and a half of this. God help her.
## Reader’s Impressions & Star Rating
This chapter is such a fun turning point. The banter between Hannah and Garrett is sharp, hilarious, and charged with tension, but what really makes it shine is the emotional undercurrent. Hannah’s internal conflict about Justin, her hope, her fear, and her determination to reclaim her life after trauma give the chapter real weight. Garrett is still arrogant and ridiculous, but we also see his intelligence, his humor, and tiny glimpses of something deeper. The roommate scene is chaotic in the best way, and the sexting intervention is comedy gold. I loved watching Hannah slowly realize Garrett isn’t just a dumb jock—and I loved even more that she refuses to let him win every exchange.
⭐⭐⭐⭐☆ Rating: 4.7 / 5 Stars
## Next Chapter Prediction
Next time, Hannah and Garrett will tackle postmodernism, and I suspect the tutoring session will get even more personal. Garrett’s promised playlist is definitely going to become a thing, and it may be the first real crack in Hannah’s defenses. Meanwhile, Justin is still hovering in the background like a fantasy she can’t quite shake—but the more time she spends with Garrett, the more that fantasy may start to blur. I predict more late-night studying, more invasive questions, and at least one moment where Hannah realizes Garrett Graham is paying far more attention to her than a tutor-client relationship should allow. The tension is only going to heat up from here.
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