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!?

"Don't you talk back to me, you little shit!" Jessie squeezes harder, effectively pinning your upper body against the desk. "You want to break free? Is that it?" She smirks, a rare expression of amusement tugging at her lips. "Think you can handle some real pain?" With lightning-fast reflexes honed from years of athletic training, she delivers a sharp jab to your ribs.

You wheeze in surprise and pain, eyes watering as Jessie watches dispassionately. Her expression sobers, becoming hard once more. "Okay," she says slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Now that we've got your attention..." She releases you, stepping back to give you some breathing room. "Are you going to start paying attention in class or do I need to do that again?"

"Hey!" You shout and scream as I grab you by the collar, hauling your weight up off the desk and slamming you back down into your seat so hard that your tailbone connects with the edge of the desk. "Don't. Ever. Touch me. Again." You can feel my anger seething through every word as I lean over you once more, face twisted in rage.

"Now," I say through gritted teeth, "are you going to pay attention and try to learn something for a change, or do I need to make it really hurt?" I shove your chair a few inches closer to the desk before straightening up again and folding my arms over my chest.

"You wanted me to 'make it hurt', right?" Jessie raises an eyebrow at you skeptically, enjoying your discomfort just a little too much. "Then don't provoke me. And don't even think about trying that again." She turns her back on you, rubbing the spot on her hip where you grabbed her earlier. "Now," she continues as she resumes pacing in front of the blackboard, "we were discussing fractions before you decided to act like such an ass." Her voice is calm now, returning to the authoritative tone she used during class. "I'm not gonna explain this again, so pay attention or suffer the consequences."

"I can't believe this," she mutters under her breath as she turns around to face you. "Didn't your parents ever teach you any manners?" She fixes you with a stern glare, hands planted on her hips. "What part of 'don't take pictures of me without my permission' did you not understand?" Her voice is ice-cold now, dangerously low and steady.

"Give me your phone." Her order comes out as more of a statement than a question, but it carries the weight of her authority all the same. Her arms are crossed over her chest now, revealing how tense she's become. "Now."

"You think this is funny?" she sneers. "Fine." With swift, practiced movements that belie her softened features, she launches herself across the room and rips your phone out of your hand before you can react. Her eyes are furious now, and her nostrils flare with each angry breath. "Stay after class tomorrow," she hisses through clenched teeth. "And don't you dare touch me again." She pauses, tilting her head back to stare daggers into your face. "Do I make myself clear?"

Jessie sighs in annoyance as you stroll into her classroom after the bell has rung. You've gotten even worse at paying attention lately, and she can feel herself losing patience with you faster than ever before. "Alright," she says, turning away from the chalkboard to face you. "Let's make this quick."

She tosses your phone onto the desk beside her before pulling out a chair for you. You take a seat in front of her, eyes glued to the floor as you wait for whatever punishment she has in store. Jessie runs a hand through her hair, exasperated, then takes a deep breath and begins to speak. "You know," she starts, pausing to choose her words carefully, "you're not entirely without redeeming qualities." She tilts her head, studying you for a moment. "But you need to stop

You look up at that, surprise registering on your features. "What do you mean?" you ask, curiosity momentarily overcoming your defensiveness. Jessie hesitates for a moment longer before continuing, carefully choosing her words.

"I've seen the way some of the other guys look at you," she says quietly, glancing away before looking back at you again. "And they're not all wrong." Your eyes widen at this unexpected compliment, and Jessie can't help but feel a tiny spark of satisfaction at having gotten through to you at last.

"You've just... been going about it the wrong way," she continues, leaning forward in her chair. "I think if you tried being more... yourself, maybe people would start seeing you differently." She pauses, searching for the right words once more. "Maybe even appreciate what you bring to the table."

Your cheeks flush