Ch-4

KYLIE

I wake up way before my alarm on Friday morning, my stomach churning.

Today is the day. The day I'm supposed to start my crash course in dating with Logan Grey... the most intimidating, popular guy on campus.

I spend nearly twenty minutes staring blankly into my closet, my hands shaking slightly as I pick through my clothes. I end up pulling on high-waisted black jeans, an oversized vintage band tee, and my worn-out white sneakers. I drag my brown curls into a high, messy ponytail, check my reflection in the mirror, and try to ignore the loud voice in my head telling me to just stay under the covers.

By 9:45 AM... fifteen minutes too early... I force myself out the front door and walk across the damp grass toward Logan’s house.

I stand on his porch, taking a deep breath to steady my racing pulse. I reach out to knock, but before my knuckles can touch the wood, an angry voice echoes through the thin door.

"Are you completely out of your mind, Logan?! Two F's?!"

I stop, pulling my hand back.

Logan’s voice drifts through the partially open front door. "Mom, relax. Keep your voice down, you're going to wake the whole neighborhood."

"I don't care who wakes up! You failed two major classes, Logan Grey! An F in advanced calculus and an F in microeconomics? Is this a joke to you?"

"It's not a joke, it's just a slight oversight," Logan answers. "I'll talk to the professors, flash a little smile, and..."

"You cannot charm your way out of a digital transcript, Logan!" his mother cuts in. "The athletic director called me ten minutes ago! If those grades aren't pulled up by the mid-semester review, you're off the team. No practices, no travel, no games. Nothing."

There's a sudden silence inside the house.

When Logan speaks next, all the cool, arrogant humor is gone from his voice.

"Wait," he says, sounding thrown off. "Off the team? For the entire season? You're kidding me."

"Do I sound like I'm kidding?!" his mom snaps. "You need a tutor, Logan. And you need one today. Someone who won't take your smooth-talking excuses."

"A tutor?" Logan groans loudly. "Mom, come on, I don't have time to sit around with some stressed-out premed nerd..."

I know I should walk away. I know I should turn around right now, slip back to my house, and let him figure out his own life. But my mind is spinning. If he gets kicked off the team, if his whole world falls apart, he won't help me. He won't have time for me.

Before I can even process what I'm doing, my hand pushes the front door open a few inches.

"I-I can do it," I stammer.

Both Logan and his mother turns toward the door. Mrs. Grey’s eyes widen in surprise, while Logan drops.

Logan stares at me. "Kylie? What... what are you doing inside?"

"I... I can tutor you," I squeak out. What on earth am I saying? Why am I opening my mouth?! "I mean... if you need help. In calculus and economics. I took those last year and... and I got A's in both."

Logan’s mom blinks, recovering instantly as a look of relief washes over her face. "You're Kylie, right? From next door?"

"Y-yes, ma'am," I manage, clutching the strap of my bag.

"Wait, hold on a second. Back up," Logan interrupts, stepping forward. "Kylie, you're an English major! You don't want to spend your weekends teaching me derivatives!"

"Well, she got A's, and you have two F's," his mom declares, looking at me like I'm an angel sent directly from above. "I think it's a fantastic idea. Thank you, Kylie."

"Mom, no, wait..." Logan starts, but his mom is already picking up her purse and grabbing her coat.

"You two go study," she orders, giving Logan a stern glare before smiling warmly at me. "Good luck, Kylie. You'll need it."

Five minutes later, I find myself sitting rigid in the passenger seat of Logan's sleek black car, staring straight out the windshield as he backs out of the driveway a little harder than necessary.

"Are you out of your mind?" Logan asks, breaking the silence as he slams the car into drive.

I flinch slightly, keeping my eyes glued forward. "W-what?"

"You," he says, flicking his gaze over to me before looking back at the road. "What was that back there? Why did you volunteer for that?"

"I... I don't know," I mumble, my voice shrinking. "I just heard your mom shouting and... and you looked like you needed help."

Logan lets out a laugh, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "Kylie, I don't need you to save me from my mother. Do you have any idea what you just signed up for? I am terrible at math. I hate economics. I am going to be the worst student you've ever had."

"I... I can handle it," I say, though I sound completely unconvinced even to my own ears.

"No, you can't," Logan insists, his tone is firm as he pulls up to a red light and turn his head to look at me properly. "Look at me, Kylie."

"You get nervous just talking to me," he says. "You stammer when you get flustered. Do you really want to spend hours sitting across a table from me, trying to force me to do calculus while I complain the whole time? You don't have to do this just to get me to help you with... with our deal."

My throat feels dry. He's right. Everything he said is true. I'm terrified of failing, terrified of looking stupid in front of him, and terrified that I have just ruined whatever dynamic we had built.

"I know," I whisper. "I know I'm... I'm not good at being assertive or whatever. But... you said you'd help me with guys. And... and you really care about lacrosse, right?"

"It's the only thing keeping me sane on this campus," he admits quietly.

I take a breath and look back up at him, trying my best to hold his gaze.

"Then let me help you keep it," "We... we can make a trade. You teach me how to talk to guys, and I'll teach you how to pass your exams. Deal?"

The red light turns green. Logan stares at me for a while before letting out a slow exhale.