Please note: (18+) This story includes adult content that may not be suitable for younger readers.》


I toss my bookbag on the desk and flop down in the seat he's had me in for the past few days. My already tired brain balking at the idea of spending the next two hours working on complex problems. As if what I'm feeling right now isn't a complex problem in itself. I look around at the empty room, at his empty desk chair, and I wonder where he could be. Normally, he's already here, waiting for me.

I shake my head at myself, running my fingers through my hair. I shouldn't be wondering anything about him after his comments to me yesterday. My heart shouldn't be racing and I damn sure shouldn't feel the little burst of excitement when I hear the murmur of his deep voice from further down the hall.

I unpack my book and turn back to the assignment I had been doing yesterday when a female giggle draws my attention to the door. I still as Samantha appears in all her fine tailored glory and I can't help but wonder what the heck she's doing here. She grins, stretching that perfectly lipglossed mouth and gives me a little wave as she says, "Hi."

Immediately Mr. Calendar appears at her back and she steps into the room with him close on her heels. He directs her to the seat right next to me and goes to his desk. He doesn't acknowledge I'm in the room as he picks up my list and sets it down infront of me. I stare at him, a little confused as to what is going on, but he apparently doesn't have the balls to even look in my direction after yesterday.

I glance at Samantha, I know her, but she doesn't know me. We don't exactly travel in the same circles. While my family is well off, hers could be considered secure for generations. She only ever talks to people that her father approves of and well, I'm not exactly one of them.

Mr. Calendar clears his throat, gaining both of our attention as he crosses his arms, leaning a hip against his desk. "Okay, Samantha, you said you had a question for me?"

Samantha glances over at me and then fiddles with her nails. I take that as a que that whatever she has to ask him is probably private. I start to slip out of my seat, hands braced on the desk, but his sharp command has me stalling.

"Sit. Down."

I gape at him. No one has ever spoken to me so forcefully and when I open my mouth to argue, one thick brow lifts and I can see he means it. I drop back into the seat and he says to me, "I didn't tell you to leave, Sienna. You have work to do, get started."

I almost want to throat punch him, but instead I grab my pen and stare intently at my book. The feel of his eyes boring into me slowly eases off and as I glance at him, it's to see him looking at Samantha who glances between us, evidently uneasy after his forceful outburst.

"I, um... well, my dad said I should ask you about any extra credit assignments to help with my grade. He wasn't exactly too happy with my mid-term report," Samantha says softly, her eyes flicking to me and my open book before looking back in his direction.

"I'm sorry, I don't offer anything more than what I assign you. Your grade is determed by how well you apply what is discussed in class," he explains, his tone completely neutral.

"Yes, I understand that, but... if there's anything at all I could do...

Samantha leaves her comment unfinished and I have to wonder if what I'm hearing is the same as what I'm thinking. A little flare of jealously mixed with anger sparks in my stomach and I can't help but rub a hand over it.

"Perhaps a tutor would benefit you? Someone available in the afternoons, after classes? I think if you did some one on one with another student it could help pull up your test grades," he suggests and my stomach plummets at what I think he's suggesting.

Me. Tutoring Samantha.

"I can't do that," Samantha literally cries and I breathe a sigh of silent relief. "I've got so much to do already."

I almost ask her what could be more important, but Mr. Calendar beats me to it saying, "If your concerned with your future grades then you may want to find someone that will help tutor you."

"Why can't you? I mean, she's here, obviously doing-

"Samantha," he says, cutting her off, tilting his head. "I have study group hours posted outside that door. You are welcome...