When We Were Young.

I sit in the classroom going through my week's notes for the big test we're writing this Friday. It contributes 25 percent of my term mark so I really need to put my all into it, incase I lack somewhere else. It's a backup mark.

I know I won't necessarily lack anywhere else as I always make it a point not to but I generally like to treat all my school work like it contributes to my term mark. That's how I've managed to keep my grades where they are.

I don't go home immediately after school because I like to finish all my school work at school. When I'm at home, I concentrate on my family. Thankfully dad gets back from work at just the right time to pick me up on his way home.

I continue my determination before sensing a figure standing by the door through my peripheral. I keep quiet hoping the person goes away but they just stand there for a while.

"Can I help you with something?" I finally ask not even bothering to look at who the person is and he just chuckles at that.

No one is supposed to still be at school right now.

The stranger then walks in to sit on top of the table in front of me, further annoying me but I still make no effort to look at him. 

"I'm sorry to disturb Mia, I just couldn't help but stop this time," he says and I finally decide to raise my head up to look at him.

This time?

But also, Tristan Brady knows my name?

He seems to notice my confused look because,

"I have practice everyday after school and you're always in here when I pass by to go home," he explains but my confused face remains.

Sure he passes me every day, but so do his teammates and none of them have ever stopped to just stare at me. So,

"Is there something I can help you with Tristan?" I repeat my question to the most popular boy in school in a harsh tone he's probably not used to, but I don't care because I don't have time for this, plus my dad should be on his way to pick me up soon.

"Uh well, I thought maybe I could join you one of these days?," he questions nervously and I just look at him blankly. He must sense my annoyance.

"You want me to tutor you you mean?" I say correcting him. I don't need a study buddy but he probably does.

Or maybe he's just looking for someone to copy off of, that would make more sense. There are way too many smart people in this school who would give anything to tutor him and he just chose the quiet, weird girl.

Yeah right.

"I guess you could put it that way yeah," he answers.

"No one else studies after practice," he then says shutting down my conspiracy theories, I'm guessing because he saw I wasn't convinced. I let my brain do some more thinking as I stare back at him.

Yes, I'm all about my school work but my social life is all but a tragedy. I don't think Tristan would ever want to be my friend but maybe if people saw him with me then they'll want to hang out with me.

Mom always says I should allow myself to meet new people.

"I'm sorry Tristan, I really need to concentrate," I decide to instead say to him. My social life will have to wait. Being the popular guy's tutor will be more destructive than beneficial. 

"I get it," he says softly before making his way out of the class.

I feel bad but I can't afford to risk my grades if I still want to be accepted at WITS. So I continue going through my notes before my dad arrives and we're soon on our way home.

But clearly Tristan didn't quite 'get it' because the following day after his practice, he comes to sit next to me with his own books as I study. He proceeds to make extreme and wild confused faces as he looks down at his books making me laugh. Clearly he wants me to see he needs help.

I just leave him be because I really need to concentrate but the boy is really persistent because he comes again the day after that, and then the one after that until it becomes an everyday thing.

One day I accidentally see him working on a math problem but he'd completely messed it up and I couldn't help but correct him.

"Uhm, so this is how I would it," I randomly say taking his pencil from him. I move my chair closer to his and explain the problem step by step as he listens carefully. I then let him do a different but similar problem and he perfects it. 

He literally gets up from his desk and jumps around the classroom in celebration as I laugh at his goofiness.

We end up doing a few more problems before we put our books away and just talk about random stuff.

That day, Tristan insisted on walking me to my dad's car outside to thank me. He then did the same thing the following days as I'd finally accepted to 'study' with him. 

He refuses to call it tutoring because he says it makes him seem dumb but I still call it that behind his back.

I noticed my dad would then make it to school later and later every day obviously to give Tristan and I time and I secretly appreciated that.

We had a pattern thing going on. He would go to practice after the bell rang. He'll then come to join me in the chemistry lab where we'll study for a few hours and then we'll just sit and talk until my dad comes.

I'd found out a few weeks into our sessions that he walks home when we're done. I know it's not a long walk but it's usually a bit dark out when we're done so I'd asked dad to drop him off and he was very happy to. I know he'd been proud that I finally made a friend. 

Soon enough he met my mom too and I met his family. They'd been shocked because even though he was popular, they'd never met any of his friends.

As we're laying on his bed this Saturday afternoon individually studying, his phone rings and we both know who it is. He grabs it from the bed then makes his way outside his bedroom as I continue studying.

I immediately stop when I hear his voice getting louder from outside. Is he arguing?

I knew they had problems but damn.

A few moments later I hear glasses shattering and I run downstairs to see what's happening.

He's sitting in a pool of broken plates and glasses and he's staring at nothing as tears rain down his eyes.

I then run to him ignoring the broken glasses on the floor as they cut through me then I sit on top of him. I rap my legs around his torso and I hug him really tight as he cries into me. 

We stay like that for what feels like hours before our heads turn at the same time and we're just looking into each other's eyes.

He brings his head closer and I know I should stop him but I don't. I then melt into the feel of our lips touching not wanting it to stop.