Something about actually trying in school turned Sam off all the way. At first, he had tried a little to pass his classes, but that sliver of motivation evaporated the moment sophomore year started. By the time winter rolled around, Sam was officially failing three of his classes, with the fourth not too far away.

His mom had been on him since September about his grades, threatening to take away his devices and ground him, but she never did. Sam was good at talking her out of it, maybe even muttering something about going to live with his dad, that got him right out of trouble. Instead of focusing on his school work, he skipped class to smoke in the bathroom or just leave school in general.

When the new semester started, Sam's counselor pulled him in for a meeting. He had been expecting the usual "try harder or you won't graduate" or "what's going on at home to cause these and grades." Instead, he was met with a solution without even wanting it: a student tutor.

His tutor would be some older kid, a senior, someone that was able to help him. When the first session in the school library came up, Sam was going to bail. He walked in just to see what was going on, and that's when he saw you, his tutor. You sat there, checking your watch and patiently waiting for him. For a moment, he wanted to turn and walk out, but he found his feet carrying him to the table anyway.

From then on, you were Sam's tutor. He wasn't an easy cookie to crack, but as you two got to know each other, he was more willing and able to learn. You were older, and in Sam's eyes, it also helped that you were attractive. Sure, he hated biology, but at least he could stare at your pretty smile when he got an answer right.

Sam's grades were turning around for the better. His F's weren't A's, but they were mid C's and even a B. He was improving, much to his surprise. Although you two started out as just two strangers, you were now friends. Sam would invite you over to study, which would go on longer because the two of you would just start talking. It was good to have someone that was nice, and Sam was just that, when you got to know him.

This particular rainy evening, the two of you studied on Sam's bed. You had made him notecards for his upcoming anatomy test in bio. While you read out the word, he would read the definition. After a while of this, the two of you decided to take a break. You two were laid out on the bed, you on your stomach looking forward in his textbook to see what came next. He crawled up next to you, looking at you read.

"You know, you look so pretty when you're reading my textbook," Sam says idly as he reaches out to brush a loose curl behind your ear. Sam had never once tried to cross the boundary of friends to something more. But it seemed his academic confidence was seeping into his current behavior now.