Chapter 11
Tyler
If you had told me that I needed tutoring, I would have laughed in your face.
Ask me again now. I’m not laughing, because this is my reality. We’re only a few weeks into the senior year and my guidance counselor plus my trigonometry teacher says I’m slipping.
Fuck .
I don’t understand how my grades are getting bad now. I’ve made studying a top priority now that I’m a senior. I quit going to parties and I’m not dating, well, fucking around with anyone. So, there are no distractions whatsoever.
I told Dad, and he said I shouldn’t worry too much about it, just do my best and I’ll be just fine. And I try to believe him, but it’s all been so time-consuming, especially after Mom died. I’m trying to fit in where she left off when she passed. Dad’s shoulders have grown heavier with the burden of providing for us with our household salary now cut in half, and I want to alleviate that weight as much as I can. But it’s tough juggling it all–taking care of Harper, keeping the house running, and trying to keep up with school.
I worry about Harper, making sure she’s happy and cared for. Sometimes, it feels like I’ve stepped into a role I wasn’t ready for, but there’s no room for hesitation when Harper is only three.
It’ll be a couple more years until Harper starts kindergarten, so for now, daycare is the best route to make sure she has someone watching her. So, until then, I’m in charge of making her snacks, drop-offs, and pickups.
I can’t fall behind. Focus, Tyler, focus. If I want to keep my grades on track and play my last lacrosse season, my only choice is to get a tutor.
As I step into the library–tutoring center–, it’s like entering the go-to spot for Skyline students who are all about grinding through homework and or finding a place to just chill out. Sunlight floods the room, making it feel less like a typical study spot and more like a place where you can actually breathe without assignments being jammed down your throat.
The walls are decked out with those cheesy motivational posters, but hey, they kinda work. They remind you that you’re not alone in this academic grind .
I wander through the space, eyeing the tutoring area. It’s a maze of desks and bookshelves, and I’m lowkey hoping my tutor will magically appear and save me from drowning in homework. Time to hunt them down before I’m buried in assignments.
Thankfully, one of the librarians returns to her circular workstation. “Need help, sweetie?”
I scratch the back of my head, letting my hand rest on my neck. “Yeah,” I pull out a guidance slip, explaining why I’m here. “Ms. Vaughn sent me down to be assigned a tutor. I’m not sure how this works.”
The librarian, Ms. Kelly, accepts my guidance slip. Peering down, she pulls out a manilla folder from her end and starts scanning through the paperwork and her computer screen.
She stands up, gesturing for me to follow her. “The tutoring center is a valuable resource. I want you to understand there’s no need to be ashamed to ask for help or receive it.”
“Yup,” I say as we walk through rows of tables and chairs arranged to accommodate collaborative and individual study sessions.
Shelves line the walls, filled with textbooks, reference materials, and novels, “offering endless collections to cater to the diverse needs and wants of Skyline High,” Ms. Kelly explains as a museum guide and I nod along. “Most of our tutors are current students at Skyline. To be transparent, they receive academic volunteering merits on their records in return for their time. Rest assured all of the student tutors have been vouched by multiple educators, so you will be in great hands.”
I bob my head, still following her explanation of how this shit works.
“So, the majority of your sessions will take place during your prospective study hall block, same for your tutor. Twice a week, you’ll have sessions in the center; however, if you need additional time, that is up to you and your tutor to facilitate.” Our walking stops as we transition into the tutoring center wing. She waves for me to take a seat at an empty table. “Any questions?”
“No ma’am, thank you for explaining. I appreciate it.”
Ms. Kelly’s eyes crinkle and she glances over my shoulder, something catching her attention. “Ah, there’s your tutor.”
“I’m sorry I’m late, I got lost.”
Her .
My jaw tightens at her soft voice, still managing to be heard despite the breathy undertones.
“Tyler, meet your tutor.” She pushes her glasses down slightly to read off the slip she was still holding on to from earlier. “Serena Inthavong, she’s brilliant at trigonometry. Despite being new to the school, she’s been recommended by her teacher and Ms. Vaughn. ”
Serena approaches the table, out of breath like she ran a mile to get here. She levels down at the chair opposite me and sets her bag on the tabletop. Suddenly, I’m speechless as I actually look at her now that we’re in such close proximity.
Coffee-brown eyes bore into mine. She’s wearing light blue mom jeans with a white shirt that hugs her upper body. Her raven black hair gracefully falls down to her shoulders, and curtain bangs frame her face. As I sit beside her, I can’t shake off her addicting scent: a blend of fruity freshness, delicate floral notes, and a subtle hint of musk.
“Thai green tea.”
I realize I’m staring at her. The nickname shakes me slightly back into reality.
“Now that you two are acquainted. I’ll leave you to it.” Ms. Kelly scurries back to her workstation, leaving Serena and me in the empty tutoring center.
“Thai green tea, huh?” I lean back in my chair, arms crossed. “You know my name.”
“I do.”
“Then why are you calling me by my drink order?”
“You like Thai green tea.” Serena giggles, her lashes fluttering.
That laugh .
I clear my throat, “If we’re on a nickname basis, I should be able to call you something other than Serena.” I tap my chin, contemplating nicknames for her. Once I have it, I inch forward, eyes locked onto hers. “I think we’re friendly enough to where you can invite me over for a movie, sunshine .”
My eyes are still locked onto hers, her cheeks flush pink and she must realize it when her coffee-brown orbs widen in surprise. It all happens in a couple of seconds, then she turns her head to the side to look away.
I lean back with my hands linked behind my neck. I decide to switch topics. “So, I didn’t know you tutored.”
Serena returns her attention back to me, opening her bag for a notebook and pen. “I was talked into it.”
“Ms. Vaughn?”
“Yeah, she’s very persuasive. She just wanted me to take on an extracurricular activity,” she bats her eyelashes, eyes peering over me. “So, let’s get started.”
She takes her pen, her tongue sneaking out of the corner of her mouth, fully concentrated. “Okay,” she waves at me with her pen to pay attention. “Ms. Vaughn hasn’t told me much about you other than you need help with trigonometry. Is there anything specific I need to know?”
I release the hands behind my neck, letting one hand scrub my chin. “Fuck if I know. I never thought I was dumb enough to be told ’you’re falling behind’.” I pull out my binder, which contains my assignments and the latest quiz that took me all night to study for.
“That’s no reason to call yourself dumb.” Serena counters.
I chuckle. “I’m sure I’ll come to terms with it at some point.”
“No, seriously. I struggle too sometimes.”
“Yeah, right,” I retort, not entirely convinced.
“Hey,” Serena’s voice catches my attention again, “We all need help sometimes. Plus, you’re lucky it’s me,” she jokes, making me chuckle.
She starts going through my binder, eyes scanning left to right. My face scrunches up as I watch her analyze my work. For a second, I can’t tell if she’s realizing I am dumb, or she really can’t figure it out. After a few minutes have passed, she sets the binder down and her eyes narrow.
Damn, maybe I’m dumb.
“You’re not totally bad at trig. You just…” She pauses, her brows furrowed together like she’s trying to think of the best way to lay it out on me.
I raise a brow when she’s taking longer to finish.
“Look, trigonometry is a puzzle. You have the pieces laid out and it’s up to you to put it together so it’s one perfect masterpiece.” She holds up my latest quiz. “This? You get the right answer, sure, but you don’t really understand how the pieces fit together–the process, the connection, and seeing the big picture–which is why you’re getting all these points marked off.”
I rub my chin and accidentally let out a chuckle. “That was really philosophical of you.”
“It is, huh?” Her face brightens, a hint of pink creeping up on her and a light melodic laugh escapes her lips. She tucks strands of hair behind her ears, shifting in her seat as she scribbles something in her notebook. “We’ll work on solving basic functions. It’s all about understanding the process as you work out the problem.”
I offer a slight nod, gradually understanding her explanation. I guess there are times when we can’t just fix issues without understanding how we get the answer.
“Okay, so what’s first?”
Serena rips out a sheet of paper from her notebook, the one she’s been writing on since we got here. “We’ll start off simple. You do the homework, we meet here during our sessions and you’ll walk me through everything.”
I take the paper from her hands and read through her curly handwriting. Cute handwriting for a cute girl.
Info :
Meet every Monday and Wednesday during 4th block.
Tyler to bring homework every session and we’ll go over working out the problem.
Serena’s number: 704-321-4567
I set the paper into my blinder for safekeeping. I sneak glances at her, she’s putting her things away. “Thanks for sharing your number. Makes it easier for me.”
“What do you mean?” Her eyes dart back to mine.
“Thought you were going to make me beg for it.”
Serena’s eyes double in size, the faint pink on her cheeks now turning crimson red. She rises up, fidgeting to get one strap over her shoulder. “I, um, n-need to go.” She hurriedly walks away, but I’m fast and also taller, so I match her pace.
“Where are you heading off to?” I ask as I stand right in front of her, continuing to walk backwards and looking at her eyes.
Serena keeps her face straight ahead, avoiding eye contact. “Practice.” She answers quietly, slightly turning her head to mine, “I’m on the cheer team.”
“Oh, that’s dope.” We reach the main doors and I hold the doors open for her. We step out of the library and are met with the empty halls with a few students lingering before the final bell rings. Student athletes get the benefits to leave twenty minutes early from fourth block to get ready for practice. “You must be badass if you’re joining this late in the year. They don’t usually accept latecomers.”
“Yeah,” she breathes out quietly, “the captain is my friend, she asked me as a favor to join.” She says, shrugging her shoulders like it’s not a big deal.
I don’t say anything in return as we walk in silence for a couple of minutes. I should buzz off and go to my locker before heading to the athletic center, but I’m not ready to part ways yet.
“What about you?” Serena asks, tilting her head slightly in my direction.
Our pace slows slightly as we turn a corner, and I take the opportunity to study her. “Lacrosse, I’ve been playing since freshman year.”
Serena chuckles softly and shakes her head. “Wow, that’s not what I was expecting. I assumed you were into football,” she says with a playful smile, eyes twinkling with amusement.
I respond with a sheepish grin, running a hand through my hair. “Well, football isn’t for everyone,” I say, laughing alongside her.
“What made you choose lacrosse?”
“You ask a lot of questions. ”
“Hey,” Serena shoves my shoulder lightly with her hand, another smile breaking through. “You’re the one who wants to be my friend for a movie night invitation.”
“Right.”
“So?” she raises her brows. “Why lacrosse? What’s the love story there?”
“Love story?” I repeat. “I didn’t know sports could have a love story?”
“Most of them do and I want to know yours,” she smiles, “so don’t hold back on me.”
I scratch my forehead, thinking of the best way to explain. “I’ve always wanted to play a sport. Baseball was my thing growing up and every sport has its own charm, but lacrosse won me over in the end.”
“So, baseball was your first love?”
“Yeah,” I grin sheepishly. “You can say that. Baseball was something I picked up because of my dad. I got older and wanted to be different , so I joined lacrosse when I got here. I’ll always love baseball, though. It’s taught me discipline, teamwork, and the beauty of chasing a dream.”
Serena stifles a snicker. “I didn’t expect you to go all Shakespeare on me.”
“I’m full of surprises, sunshine. ”
We both step outside as we cross the indoor pavilion on campus to make it to the athletic center. “What about you? What’s your story?” I open the door for her, letting her step inside first. We pause our steps, standing in a narrow hall with two doors leading to the men and women locker rooms. The bell rings, the universe’s way of telling us our time together for today is ending. Practice for her, off-season training for me.
“For me to know, you to find out.” Serena smirks, backing up towards the women’s locker room. “Bye, Tyler.”
I watch Serena head into the locker room, and I’m left speechless. Standing there in the hallway, I can’t help but stare at where she disappeared. Serena’s just... something else, you know? She’s got this mysterious vibe that leaves me totally awestruck.
Damn it, I can’t let myself get caught up with another girl.
But Serena…
I’m screwed.