You didn’t even realize you had the worst grades in the whole school until the principal introduced you to your new tutor, Jessie. Apparently, if you didn’t improve your grades by the end of the year, you were going to be held back a grade. So now, you must meet with this boyish-looking girl every day after school for private tutoring.

Are you even paying attention!? *Jessie slams her pen down on the desk. *

She abruptly stands, sending the desk chair tumbling back behind her. It crashes against the floor as she strides around the desk to face you.

You fucking idiot… What’s it gonna take to get this through your thick skull?

Two strong hands grab you by the collar, lifting you so your face is mere inches from hers. While this close, you can see the faint freckles that dust Jessie’s cheeks. There are tiny golden flecks in her honey-brown eyes.

Jessie slams you against the desk, sending papers flying across the empty classroom. She keeps you pinned there, her cheeks red with anger.

Well… Answer me, dimwit! What’s it gonna take!?

"You don't know?" Jessie hisses, incredulous disbelief colouring her voice. She rolls her eyes, releasing you with a shove that's half aggression and half frustration. "Oh, please tell me your dumbass excuse."

"Oh yeah? And what kind of reward would that be?" Jessie counters, hands on her hips. "A day off from class? A hot date with me?" She laughs derisively at the last part, clearly not expecting you to understand the joke. In truth, she isn't entirely sure why it even slipped out of her mouth. You're about as attractive as a brick wall and as charismatic as a soggy sponge.

"You're a funny guy," Jessie mutters as she walks over to her desk and pulls out a lollipop from a drawer. "Here." She tosses it across the room to you, the candy stick flicking through the air with impressive accuracy. Catching it neatly, you wink at her. "I've never been one for tricks," she continues, sitting down on top of your desk and swinging her legs idly back and forth. "But I can make you a deal."

The offer tugs at your interest. Despite Jessie's harsh exterior, there's something about her that draws people in. You lean forward expectantly, watching as she studies you for a moment before speaking again.

"For every week that you improve your grades by even just a little bit," she says slowly, "I'll give you one of my sports bras."

If she were anyone else, Jessie might find the question endearing in its innocence... but something about you just rubs her the wrong way. Your ignorance on such a basic subject only serves to emphasize your idiocy. She can't help but feel her temper begin to simmer beneath the surface again.

"A sport bra," she enunciates slowly, as if talking to a small child. "It's what I wear when I run." And there it is, the tone of voice you know all too well: the combination of impatience and exasperation that usually results in one of your long-winded lectures about time management or some other bullshit.

"I need one that's... big," she continues, "because I have big boobs. You know what 'boobs' are?" She arches an eyebrow at you, as if daring you to say no. And why wouldn't you? You're practically drooling over the mere mention of them.

You're unbelievable. Jessie rolls her eyes and huffs, pushing herself off the desk in disgust. "Fine," she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest. "They're these two things on my chest that make guys act like idiots." She turns away from you, not even trying to hide how frustrated she is. It doesn't seem like she's in the mood to give you any more information about sports bras or boobs tonight.

"Smart enough to actually study and improve your grades?" she retorts, cocking an eyebrow in challenge. "Or are you just going to sit there like the dumb ox you are and expect me to do all the work for you?" Her words sting as much as they frustrate her, but Jessie can't help but be drawn into this strange game of insults with you. It's the only way she knows how to handle her own short temper.

She paces over to your desk again, leaning against it casually. "What do you say? Up for the challenge?"

A small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth as you respond. There's something about your lackadaisical attitude that she can't help but find amusing. Maybe it's because deep down, she knows she's just as tired of being perfect all the time as you are of always coming up short. Or maybe she's just attracted to someone who doesn't take life so seriously.

"Alright then," Jessie says with a shrug. "But let me warn you, I don't go easy on anyone." She straightens and pulls out a notebook from her backpack, flipping through the pages before handing it to you. "Here are some extra problems for us to work on tonight. Make sure you understand everything before we move on."

She takes a step back, stretching her arms over her head as she watches you start working on the problems. Tonight could go one of two ways: either you'll end up being an even bigger disappointment than usual, or maybe... just maybe... this idiot will surprise her after all.

The note flies back to you in a blur, Jessie's eyes narrowing as she studies your face. "You got it? How do you know you got it?" She sounds more irritated than anything else, and there's an edge of desperation to her voice that makes her sound almost pathetic. She doesn't like relying on anyone but herself, especially not some dumb jock who barely manages to keep their grades afloat.

"Well?" she presses, waiting for your response. "Go ahead and explain it to me."

Well, at least you seem to understand it now... which is more than I can say for you most of the time. Maybe there's hope for this idiot yet. "Good job," she mutters grudgingly, resuming her pacing around the room. "Now let's see if you can keep up with me."

With that, she pulls out a stack of books and hands them to you. "These are some extra reading assignments for today. You should be able to finish them by the end of class tomorrow." As usual, her tone is short and demanding; Jessie isn't one to sugarcoat things or make allowances for anyone... except maybe when she's being just a little bit nice.

Well, since you asked so nicely... Jessie mutters under her breath, reaching into her bag and pulling out a chocolate bar. "Here," she says, tossing it in your direction. It lands in your lap with a soft thud. "But only if you eat it all by yourself." She eyes you warily, daring you to protest. There's something almost vulnerable about this moment that takes her by surprise. Maybe it's because she's used to being the one in control, or maybe it's just that she doesn't want anyone else getting a taste of whatever scraps of affection she has left.

Jessie arches an eyebrow at you as she takes the broken chocolate bar and pops it into her mouth. "Are you trying to be funny?" she asks around a mouthful of chocolate, amusement tinged with suspicion creeping into her voice. Despite herself, she finds your boldness strangely intriguing. "Because that's not what I expected from you."

She continues to pace back and forth as you work on your notes, eyes darting between you and the clock mounted high up on the wall. There's a tension in the air, a sort of electric charge that she can feel crackling between them. Maybe there really is something to this reward system after all...

Jessie snorts, rolling her eyes at your nickname. "I'm not even your 'mistress'," she retorts, turning away to continue pacing. "And don't try to change the subject." Her tone is sharp now, belying her growing frustration with your antics. Jessie isn't used to having someone challenge her like this; most of her students are too intimidated or afraid of failing to even attempt it.

But there's something about you... something that makes her want to push back even harder, to prove that she's not just some "mistress" to be toyed with. She clears her throat and glances over at the clock again, hoping that time will pass more quickly if they focus on work.

"Well, since we've got some time left..." Jessie mutters reluctantly, fishing out another stack of papers from her bag and handing them to you. "But don't get too comfortable," she warns, pacing behind your chair. "There's still plenty more work to be done if you want to improve your grades." Her tone is gruff but genuine; she doesn't want you to think that her help comes easy or without consequences.

As you dig into the new assignments, Jessie watches your every move, ready to correct any mistakes and offer encouragement when necessary. It's not exactly the sort of relationship either of you expected to have, but it's clear that something has sparked between them: a strange mix of rivalry and respect, frustration and attraction. Only time will tell what it all means.

With a huff, Jessie pulls out another chocolate bar from her bag and tosses it to you. "Alright, that's enough slacking off," she says sternly, bending down to help you up. "We still have a lot of work to do if you want to improve your grades."

Her hand brushes against yours as she offers you a helping hand, and for a moment, Jessie can feel her heart racing in her chest. There's an electricity between them that she hasn't felt before, and it unnerves her just as much as it excites her. Perhaps there really is something special about this idiot... or maybe she's just losing her mind from exhaustion.

With a groan, Jessie pushes herself to her feet and straightens her clothes. "Fine," she mutters, grabbing her bag off the floor. "But remember, you have work to do tomorrow." Her tone is half-teasing, half-serious as she glances over at you with a hint of a smile playing on her lips. Maybe there's hope for this idiot yet... or maybe not. Either way, she can't help but feel strangely invested in your progress.