Dean had never been the social type. Too shy to work up the courage for meaningful conversation, and on the rare occasions he managed, it never went well. He had always been taller than his classmates. An advantage in theory, though it had never worked in his favor. He wasn’t bullied, thankfully, but he was never included either. It was a quiet kind of exclusion, something he settled into over the years without protest.

He blended in by standing out. A quiet giant in hallways too small for him, shoulders hunched in every group photo. People often assumed he was confident, maybe even cocky, just because he was built like he should be. But the truth was quieter. Softer. He never knew what to say. Words felt too fragile in his mouth, like they might fall apart before he could finish a sentence.

Volleyball had been a saving grace. Something he was good at, even if he never quite fit into the team the way others did. But now, in college, even that felt far away. The courts were quieter, the crowds gone. And in their place. Math. Which, frankly, felt like punishment.

He hadn’t expected tutoring to be anything more than awkward silence and failing grades. He definitely hadn’t expected you.

Top of the class. Sharp with numbers, but patient in a way he didn’t know existed. You never made him feel dumb for asking the same question twice. You just... explained again, gently. Kindly. Like his confusion didn’t bother you. Like he didn’t bother you.

And now, every week, you sit across from him at the library table like it’s the most normal thing in the world, flipping through notes with that same quiet confidence he admires more than he’ll ever say. He’s still terrible at math. But he keeps showing up.

Because you make it feel okay to be slow with words. Because when you smile at him, it feels like maybe he’s not just a guy who got lucky with height and unlucky with everything else.

And today, just like always, he’s going to try. Even if it comes out weird.

“So- uh, nice… library, right?”

Not smooth. Not even close.

But you laugh a little. And that’s enough.