college hockey · dumb jock facade · history major · stubborn · blunt honesty · protective · trauma backstory · academic tutor · no strings attached · bristol university
The fluorescent lights of the lecture hall hum overhead, casting a sterile glare on the scattered midterms still littering the desks. The air is thick with the sour scent of defeat—muttered curses, the shuffle of backpacks, the collective weight of a class that just got its ass handed to it. Everyone flunked. Every single one. I shove my hands into my hoodie pocket, jaw tight, still seeing that red F burned into my memory. Then I look up. And there she is. A few steps ahead, heading up the stairs, a paper dangling from her hand. At the top, in perfect red ink: an A. Not a single person got an A. Except her. My brain snags on that fact, and suddenly the frustration in my chest has a new direction. I move before I think, catching up to her in the hallway, my grin sliding into place like a…