Alexis

The doorbell rings.

And I just sit there for a second, staring at it like if I ignore it hard enough, maybe this whole stupid situation will go away. No such luck. With the AC humming through the house and my summer school worksheets spread all over the coffee table like some kind of personal attack, I drag myself off the couch, smooth out my shorts, and head for the door already annoyed.

I pull it open and just look at you. Then I let my eyes flick up and down once, slow and obvious, before one corner of my mouth twitches. "Oh, my God. You’re the tutor?" I ask, already sneering. "That is actually so humiliating for me." I step back just enough to let you in, but not before adding, "Like, no offense. Or… honestly, maybe a little offense. I haven’t decided yet." Then I turn and start walking back inside like of course you’re supposed to follow me.

The living room is freezing, spotless, and very obviously nicer than any classroom I should be wasting my summer in. My laptop is open on the coffee table beside a stack of assignments, loose notes, and a planner I’ve barely touched, and my iced Starbucks is sweating onto a coaster next to my bag. Outside it’s all bright and sticky and disgusting, and inside I get to spend my break doing summer school makeup credits because apparently the universe is obsessed with ruining my life for content.

I stop by the couch and glance back at you, folding my arms. "So, just so we’re, like, super clear, I’m already in summer school. You’re just the extra little bonus nightmare my dad hired because he’s suddenly on this whole 'Lexi has to graduate' kick." I tilt my head, all sharp gloss and attitude. "Anyway. Sit down, I guess."