The Villains Must Win-Chapter 132: Reid Graves 12

Tabitha stood outside the grand iron gates of the Graves Estate, staring up at what could only be described as a villain’s lair disguised as a house.

Massive columns framed the entrance, the windows were tall and imposing, and the sheer size of the place made her wonder if Reid had a secret dungeon somewhere inside.

"Wow," she muttered, shifting the weight of her backpack. "I was expecting ’quiet bookworm’s house,’ not ’Dracula’s summer home.’"

Reid, standing beside her, merely adjusted his glasses. "You’re being dramatic."

Tabitha scoffed. "Excuse me, but does your house or does your house not look like it has secret passageways and at least one haunted painting?"

Reid sighed. "We don’t have secret passageways."

"But the haunted painting—?"

He hesitated.

Tabitha gasped. "You do have one!"

Before Reid could deny it, the front gates opened automatically, and they made their way up the long driveway. The second they reached the doorstep, the grand wooden doors creaked open on their own.

Tabitha froze.

"Okay, I’m convinced. You’re a supervillain," she said, pointing at him. "This is your evil lair, and you’ve lured me here to harvest my brain."

Reid gave her a flat look. "It’s motion-sensored, and what would I do with your brain?"

"Sure, Reid Graves," she said, narrowing her eyes. "That’s exactly what a supervillain would say."

Once they arrived inside the mansion, it was even more ridiculous. The high ceilings, the crystal chandeliers, the giant staircase—Tabitha half-expected a butler to appear and welcome her to the Batcave.

Instead, the house was eerily quiet.

"Where is everybody?" she asked, her voice echoing slightly in the open space.

"My mom’s in her office," Reid said, leading the way through the lavish hallway. "She’s a writer. Once she locks herself in, she doesn’t like to be disturbed."

Tabitha raised an eyebrow. "Like, at all? What if there’s a fire?"

"Then she’ll publish her last novel posthumously," Reid deadpanned.

Tabitha snorted. "Okay, what about your dad?"

"Business trips," Reid said simply. "He’s barely home."

Tabitha slowed her steps. "So you’re alone most of the time?"

Reid didn’t answer right away, but that was answer enough.

She chewed her lip, suddenly feeling a little awkward. "That must be . . . lonely."

"It has its advantages," he said, brushing it off. "No one bothers me. I have the house to myself. I can read in peace."

Tabitha huffed. "You make it sound like a dream, but it sounds kinda sad, dude."

Reid turned to her and changed the topic. "What about you? You have siblings, right?"

Tabitha let out a dramatic sigh. "Oh, I have siblings, alright. Too many, in fact. I’m in the middle, so I’m basically invisible. If I go missing for three days, I doubt they’d notice. Honestly, I could replace myself with a houseplant, and my parents would just water it occasionally and move on."

Reid blinked. "That’s . . . concerning."

"You think?" she said, throwing her hands up. "At least you don’t have a six-year-old brother who believes everything belongs to him, including your toothbrush."

Reid made a face. "I’m sorry—your what?"

"Toothbrush," Tabitha repeated, shuddering. "I caught him brushing his action figures’ with it. My toothbrush."

Reid stared at her, visibly horrified. "Please tell me you threw it away."

"Oh, I burned it," she assured him.

They made their way upstairs to what was supposed to be the study room.

Instead, it was a full-blown library.

Tabitha stopped short. "Are you serious right now?"

Shelves upon shelves of books lined the walls, a massive desk sat in the center, and a freaking ladder was attached to one of the bookshelves like something out of a Beauty and the Beast scene.

Reid walked in like it was no big deal. "What?"

"You said we were going to study in your study room. This is a library. This isn’t a study room—this is the Library of Alexandria’s richer cousin!"

Reid crossed his arms. "Would you rather study in the dining room?"

Tabitha looked at him, then at the glorious book collection, then back at him.

". . . No," she admitted.

"That’s what I thought."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You enjoyed that, didn’t you?"

"A little," he said, taking a seat. "Now, are we actually going to study, or are you just going to keep admiring my library?"

Tabitha plopped onto the chair opposite him, pulling out her notebook. "Fine, fine, let’s get to work. But I’m still not over the fact that you live inside a literal museum of knowledge."

Reid rolled his eyes but said nothing.

Fifteen minutes into the study session, and it was already off the rails.

Tabitha was lying upside down in her chair, groaning. "My brain hurts."

Reid barely looked up from his notes. "That’s because you’re trying to solve the problem while hanging off your chair like a bat."

"Maybe I am a bat," she mumbled. "And maybe math is my mortal enemy."

Reid sighed. "Do you want me to explain it again?"

Tabitha flipped over dramatically and sat up straight. "Fine. Explain, Professor Genius."

Reid tapped the notebook. "Alright. Let’s try this again—if Train A is traveling at—"

"Train A should just stay home," Tabitha grumbled.

"—and Train B is traveling—"

"—on a collision course with my sanity," she muttered.

Reid gave her a look. "Tabitha."

"Okay, okay, I’m listening!" She held up her hands in surrender.

Thirty minutes later, after much complaining, a minor snack break, and Tabitha dramatically fake-crying over algebra, she finally understood the problem.

She gasped. "I get it!"

Reid raised an eyebrow. "You do?"

"Yes!" she beamed. "It only took an hour and a small existential crisis, but I get it!"

Reid smirked. "Congratulations. You’ve just solved a basic math problem."

"Shut up, let me have this moment," she said, pretending to wipe away a tear.

Reid shook his head but smiled despite himself.

He thought he’d be the one losing his sanity teaching her—honestly, he almost did. But somehow, against all logic and probability, everything had turned out . . . fun.

When was the last time he’d had fun in his house?

Reid couldn’t remember. His home had always been a place of silence, a place where books whispered instead of people, where facts and logic ruled supreme. And yet, in just one evening, Tabitha had turned it into something else.

Something loud. Something enjoyable.

She had this way of shaking things up—of making him feel lighter, like the world wasn’t just facts and equations, but something messy, ridiculous, and weirdly enjoyable.

And the strangest part?

He didn’t hate it.

Actually . . . he kind of liked it. She was like the color in his dull repetitive world that not even Gwendolyn could do.

Reid leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

Tabitha was the first girl—no, scratch that—the first human being aside from his housekeeper to set foot inside his house. And for once, it wasn’t for some stiff, forced gathering.

She had been here just to study—and yet, somehow, she had dragged chaos in with her like an overenthusiastic stray cat.

"You know, Reid," she said, nodding sagely. "You’re really good at this."

Reid raised an eyebrow. "At what?"

"Teaching! Honestly, you should just replace our math teacher. She doesn’t hold a candle to you!"

Reid gave her a skeptical look. "Our math teacher has a Ph.D."

Tabitha waved a hand dismissively. "Yeah, yeah, but does she explain things in a way that doesn’t make me want to throw myself into oncoming traffic? No."

Reid pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tabitha—"

"No, seriously!" she continued, completely ignoring him. "If you were my teacher, I’d ace every single exam."

Reid doubted that. "You mean you’d actually pay attention?"

Tabitha gasped, putting a hand to her chest like she’d just been mortally wounded. "I am offended. Of course, I pay attention in class! It’s just that our teacher doesn’t explain it like you do!"

Reid just stared at her.

"Okay, okay," she said, rolling her eyes. "Maybe I don’t always pay attention. But in my defense, math is evil and should be banned, and those teachers were their devil servants."

Reid scoffed. "Yes, I’m sure the entire world would function perfectly fine without math."

Tabitha snapped her fingers. "Exactly! See, you get it!"

Reid sighed, shaking his head. "I regret ever agreeing to tutor you."

"You say that, but I know you had fun," she teased, nudging his arm.

Reid didn’t respond.

Because, for once . . .

She was completely right.

By the time they wrapped up their study session, it was already evening.

Reid walked her to the door, hands in his pockets. "So, same time next weekend?"

Tabitha grinned. "You bet. But next time, we’re taking snack breaks every thirty minutes."

Reid sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Control yourself and stop eating every food in my house."

Tabitha, mid-bite, gave him an innocent look. "Don’t be so stingy. I’m pretty sure you can afford it."

Reid rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he was already mentally making a grocery list for the next weekend when Tabitha come over.

Reid opened the door. "Try not to fail on purpose next time."

Tabitha gasped. "How dare you accuse me of such trickery!"

He gave her a look.

She laughed. "Alright, fine. Maybe I exaggerated my struggle a little."

Reid shook his head as she stepped outside.

"See you next time, Professor," she called, waving.

As she walked off, Reid stood at the door for a moment before finally shutting it.

For the first time, his quiet, empty house didn’t feel quite so lonely.

And now that she was gone?

The house felt too quiet again.