The Bad boy's Secret Tutor

Tutoring The Badboy

The library was too quiet.

Mia sat at the back table, tapping her pen against her notebook. 10 minutes late. Jake Bennett was 10 minutes late.

Typical.

The doors burst open and there he was. Jake, with his letterman jacket over his shoulder, headphones around his neck, and that lazy smirk.

"Sorry I'm late, bookworm. Practice ran over." He didn't sound sorry at all.

He flopped into the chair across from her, kicking his feet up. "So what, you gonna read me Shakespeare or something?"

Mia pushed a worksheet toward him. "Algebra 2. You failed the last test."

Jake glanced at the paper, then at her. "I don't do math."

"Well, you do it now. Or you fail. Or we both lose our scholarships."

That got his attention. His smirk dropped for half a second. "Wait, you have a scholarship too?"

"Had," Mia corrected. "Until they tied it to you."

Jake leaned back, studying her. Really studying her for the first time. The messy bun, the glasses slipping down her nose, the way she refused to look him in the eye.

"You don't talk much, huh?"

"I don't talk to people who don't try," she shot back.

Something flashed in his eyes. Not amusement. Something else.

For the next hour, it was hell. He goofed off. She stayed serious. He cracked jokes. She corrected him.

But slowly... he started answering questions.

"Why do you care so much?" he asked suddenly, tossing his pen down.

Mia froze. "Because I have to."

"Bullshit." Jake stood up, leaning over the table. Close. Too close. "You could've just let me fail. So why are you really here?"

The air between them felt different. Charged.

Mia looked up and met his eyes. Blue. And tired. Not the cocky quarterback eyes everyone saw.

"I..." The bell for closing rang.

Jake pulled back, the mask sliding back on. "Time's up. Same time tomorrow, tutor?"

He walked out, leaving Mia with a racing heart and a math worksheet full of his handwriting.

It was messy. But every answer was right.