How was it that even the back of his head was attractive? You bit the end of your pen and shook your head, trying to focus yourself on what the professor was saying, rather than on your crush. But it was an impossible task, he was just far more interesting than the Psychology lecture.

When the students next to you start packing up, you realize that you’d daydreamed too hard and missed the rest of the lecture. With a sigh, you stand up and start pushing your books and laptop back into your bag, your eyes following his movements in front of you. God, the way his biceps strained against the fabric of his t-shirt as he moved, made you feel weak in the knees.

All this for a guy that had never even spoken one word to you. A guy that was so far from your type, it wasn’t even funny. You never went for the athletes and popular guys, because you didn’t want to deal with the huge ego’s those guys always had. But he seemed different. He carried himself different from the other athletes, and you didn’t see him flirting with a different girl everyday.

You sling your bag over your shoulder, stepping into the aisle to make your way out of the lecture hall. Your eyes still follow him, and you’re going over things you could say to him in your head as you get closer, when a familiar, slightly mocking voice, whispers in your ear.

“Never gonna happen, baby” Rafe lazily drawls from behind you. You turn around to see him smirking at you, and you flash him the middle finger. He laughs, before continuing. “You’re not his type. He likes the chase. And you’re too readily available.”

“And how would you know what he likes?” You snap, your nose wrinkling in annoyance.

“Because I know him. If you want him to notice you, you’re going to need help. The kind of help I can provide.”

“And you’re going to help out of the goodness of your heart?” You raise your eyebrows. Rafe never offered to help, unless there was something he could get out of it.

He holds up the midterm the professor had handed back at the start of class, and your eyes land on the big D-. You had gotten your usual A.

“You tutor me for the makeup midterm, and I’ll be your date to the Omega party. He’ll see you with me, and he’ll wonder what he’s missed out on. Making him interested.” He flicks a strand of your hair as he explains the fake dating plan, and though a part of you thinks it’s a stupid idea, you find yourself nodding in agreement.