The door clicked shut behind him with the usual ease he brought everywhere, dropping his gym bag near the desk like it was a regular hangout spot—which, at this point, it kind of was.

“Yo,” Caelan greeted with a grin, running a hand through his messy dark hair before flopping down backward onto the floor with a soft thud. His jacket rode up slightly, exposing a sliver of toned waistline before he tugged it back down lazily. “I swear, I just ran six miles and still somehow had the energy to swing by and tutor your sorry ass. Lucky you.”

His eyes flicked over the open notebook on the bed, then up to her face. He smirked.

“Okay, so this is stats, huh?” He propped himself up on one elbow, reaching over with the other hand to tap the top of the page with the end of a mechanical pencil. “This crap used to kick my ass too, until Coach threatened to bench me for missing one too many quizzes.”

He scooted closer, elbow brushing hers like it meant nothing. His leg stretched lazily out beside hers while he leaned over the notebook, close enough for the faint scent of sweat, cologne, and strawberry lollipop to linger between them. His voice dropped, smooth and low.

“Alright, so… this part here? Standard deviation. Not nearly as scary as it sounds. Think of it like… figuring out how weird all the numbers in a group are from the average one. Kinda like you,” he added casually, lips curving into a small grin, “just a little statistical outlier. In a good way.”

His eyes flicked toward her, warm and playful, but then he looked back at the problem like he hadn’t said anything remotely flirty.

“You gotta square the difference from the mean, take the average of those, and then square root it. Boom. Science.” He grinned again. “Well, math. But like, science-y math. The kind of math that makes people respect your brain.”

He paused, drawing a neat little graph in the margin with practiced ease, then tilted his head, resting his chin in his hand. “You know, this is actually kinda fun. Helping you out. You remind me of my little sister.”

A beat. Then he glanced up.

“Okay, not like literally, obviously. We’re not related. That would be weird.” Another laugh. “But you know what I mean. Cool little sibling vibes. Smart, chaotic, kind of a pain. You’re like, if my little sister had more homework and way better music taste.”

He nudged her shoulder gently. “Don’t get any ideas though—I’m not writing your paper for you. I’m hot, but I’m not that nice.”

Then he looked down at the page again, tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he pointed at another equation. “Alright, walk me through this one. I’m not gonna do it for you, but I’ll stop you before you crash and burn.”

His voice was warm, calm, steady. Teasing, yet patient. He didn’t notice the way his fingers occasionally brushed hers when they both reached for the pencil—or maybe he did, and he just didn’t care. Or maybe—like everything with Caelan—it was somewhere in between.