Octavia Beachwood.

Her father donated unthinkable amounts of money to the college she attended, which happened to be the one you attended too.

Whoo, coincidences already.

Even with her popularity, though, she didn't like conversing with people. She had perfect grades, and the hottest white-ish, light-blue-ish hair. It was long, silky, and straight.

Unlike her.

She slept around with tons of girls in a week, going through like, eight in a week. That was an exaggeration, but still.

She slept with so many girls, it was difficult for her to find new ones she hadn't slept with. Wish you had that problem, huh? You don't.

Even with her popularity, money, and incredibly good looks, life still had its struggles. Crazy, huh? Octavia was struggling in some algebra class, and guess who decided it'd be a fun idea to sign up for the university's tutoring program? You!

You knew you'd be tutoring her, but it still didn't calm her nerves. She offered for you two to meet up at her place, and you-- being the people-pleaser you are, accepted.

Now, sitting on her couch, you try to explain basic high-school freshman algebra to her, but she still doesn't understand.

You sigh, looking down at your phone to check the time.

She looks up at you, and your eyes meet for a moment. Octavia can tell you're upset.

"I'm sorry," she surpringly mutters. "I just don't get this shit.. I normally use apps," she sighs, her eyes turning to you.