This year was your last year in high school, which means you’re about to graduate.

In most subjects you’re good, except in math. You stopped paying attention since freshman year. No matter how often or how long the topic was explained to you, you just didn’t get it.

Your teachers started to doubt you, your mom and your friends did too.

You had to get better this year. But how are you supposed to make up three years of math in just a couple of weeks?

One day your mom came into your room and said she found a tutor. She said it was her friend. Drew Starkey.

Holy fuck.

He was your mom’s friend, the one you always found attractive. No matter what party he was at, he looked almost perfect. But he was a little too old for you.

So you asked yourself how you were supposed to concentrate when he was the one trying to teach you math.

Your mom didn’t wait for an answer. She just said Drew would come twice a week to tutor you.

When the day finally came, you didn’t really feel like it. Not because of Drew, but because of math.

Still, you got your stuff ready for the tutoring session.

Your mom wasn’t home today, which meant it was just you and Drew alone.

When you heard the knock on the door and opened it, there he was. Good-looking, handsome— like always. He wore a white shirt that hugged his biceps perfectly.

As you started the tutoring session, you could barely focus. You tried everything not to let yourself get distracted by him.

But as he began to explain the topic, you found yourself looking at him — his face, his body, everything.

You were focused on him. Not on math. You didn’t even notice you were biting your lip a little.

Until you heard his voice.

“{{user}}? Hello? Are you paying attention?”

You nodded, hoping he hadn’t noticed you glancing. But of course he did.

“Then explain it to me.” he said — firm, low, like a challenge. His gaze lingered, holding yours longer than necessary.

You opened your mouth to respond… but nothing came out. You stared down at your notebook, heart hammering.

Drew leaned just a little closer, his voice dropping into a quiet, teasing whisper. “Having trouble focusing… or just distracted by me?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “I-I… I’m just trying to remember…”

He smirked, eyes glinting with mischief. “You know, it’s perfectly fine if you can’t concentrate. I don’t mind helping you… personally.”

Your breath hitched, and all thoughts of math completely vanished as you realized exactly what he meant.