Both of my best friends thought I was crazy — but for two completely different reasons.

Harper considered me mentally unstable for agreeing to Mrs. Lake's proposal. Ella, on the other hand, thought I was insane for not wanting any one-on-one time with the boy she swooned over for the entirety of our high school career.

Then again, Ella had an unique way of looking at things.

"Why are you making this sound like a chore?" Ella asked, sipping at her coffee. She needed a double-double to keep her functioning throughout the day. "I bet he smells amazing. He just looks like he'd smell like an Abercrombie model, you know?"

"You do realize Devon took a shot at tutoring Lincoln Pierce and still suffers from nightmares, right?" Harper said, ignoring Ella and scooping up a spoonful of rice.

I winced at the reminder, "I know Harper. You only told me ten times in the past forty-five minutes. You're not really giving me much room to forget."

Dissatisfied by their opinions, I stuffed another bite of bagel into my mouth. Maybe if I stopped talking, they would too.

"That's a complete over-exaggeration." Ella said, turning her gaze to Harper across the table. "What could Lincoln have done besides destroy his self-esteem?"

Harper shot our blonde friend a glare. "Would you like me to relay that tid-bit of information to Devon? I'm sure he'd love to hear that after he so graciously agreed to work with you on your Data Management assignment."

Ella parted her glossed lips, her charm bracelets clanking as she flipped her mane. "Well, I wouldn't have needed him to help me if my friend cared the slightest bit about my well-being."

"Guys, please, not now." I said, not in the mood to deal with their daily bickering.

Ella huffed at being indirectly told to shut up, slouching in her seat.

"Getting back to the point," I said, placing the cream cheese smothered bread back on its wrapper. "You two are making it seem like I have a choice in the matter. Do you really think I want to tutor him? No, absolutely not. But if I don't, I can't graduate. Simple as that."

"Isn't there another way?" Harper asked, a mouth full of food.

"I have less than fourteen days, Harper. Maybe if I was notified a little earlier, sure." I explained, still bitter about how this situation unfolded. "But I'm not taking any chances."

"I just hope you know what you're doing. There's a reason why no one wants to tutor him, Cali."

"And why is that?"

She leaned back, her crimson waves sweeping over her shoulders. "The guy's the son of Satan."

I shrugged off the severity of Harper's words. The rumours couldn't have been as bad as she made them seem. Lincoln Pierce was just some guy in his fifth year of high school, not an escaped convict.

It wasn't until I was sat alone in one of the study rooms that her warning played on repeat. The round table was cluttered with old notes. That morning Mrs. Lake had given me a rundown of what courses Lincoln was taking. I had the material to help him. I only hoped I had the courage.

The bell rang, signalling the end of the five-minute transition period between classes. I watched people enter and exit the library. No sign of Lincoln.

Ten minutes ticked by, and I was foolish enough to consider the possibility of him being lost. When twenty minutes came and went, I thought that maybe Mrs. Lake forgot to pass on the memo.

It was proving difficult to focus on the anthropology reading I'd taken out to pass time. I was stuck in a vicious cycle: tapping my pencil, staring through the study room window, and checking the clock. Then the study room door clicked open.

Standing there in all his thirty-minute-late-glory, was Lincoln Pierce. With his disheveled hair and chiseled features, it was no wonder as to why he'd been on Ella's radar for the past four years.

Leaving the door ajar, he dropped his timeworn backpack and took a seat. The heavy biology textbook he carried met the table with a bang. It was only after I registered the sound that I realized I'd been staring.

Get off on the right foot, Cali. Get off on the right foot.

I stuck my hand out. "Hi, I'm Calista."

A few awkward seconds later, my hand was still lingering, unshaken, between us.

"So," I continued, making the executive decision to fast forward through the unwanted introductions. "What should we start with first? Mrs. Lake already gave me a rough idea of some of the courses you're taking on this semester. Anything particular you—"

My rambling was cut short. An unfamiliar voice danced along with mine within the restricted space. It was raspy but smooth all at the same time, like some whiskey I'd been given one time at a party during freshman year. The sound of page-flipping came to a halt. Even though I'd seen him around school I'd never heard him speak. I was too indulged in the sound to absorb what he said.

"Sorry, what?" I said, his biology textbook still open in front of me.

"I'll cut you a deal." Lincoln stared me down with dark irises.

"A deal?"

"Just keep Lake thinking you're tutoring me and we can both just forget about having to actually go through with this, okay?" He said, arm resting on the round table. "You can get whatever extra credit she promised you and I can quit wasting my time."

"Wha—"

He looked at me as if though I had brain damage. "I said —"

"I heard you the first time." I said, narrowing my eyes.

"Great, so we have an understanding." Lincoln's monstrosity of a hand reached for his biology text. My own hand shot out, slamming down onto the open pages.

"Just because I heard you doesn't mean we've come to an agreement." Tutoring Lincoln Pierce was my one-way ticket to graduating — my only way. I wasn't going to allow him to ruin everything. "Look, I need this as much as you do. So why don't we just—"

"Do you think I give a rat's ass about what you need?" His eyes sparked like a match being struck. With his forearm on the table he leaned in. He was close enough that the hairs on the back of my neck rose to attention. "I don't need a fucking tutor."

"And I don't need you giving me a hard time. If you want to walk out now, be my guest, but I will be telling Mrs. Lake." I said, hoping he wouldn't catch my bluff. I was never good at using scare tactics.

The truth of the matter was, I couldn't tell Mrs. Lake Lincoln had bailed on me. If that happened I'd have to kiss my community service hours bye-bye. I wasn't about to let that happen, not when I had a deadline to meet.

Lincoln's glower didn't leave my face and I shifted in my seat, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. I waited for an outburst, thinking he was seconds away from giving me a piece of his mind. But his thin lips failed to open.

I took that as a cue to go-ahead and start the lesson. Letting out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding, I filled my lungs with dust-infused air. My eyes roamed over a couple of pages, wondering if it was safe to question Lincoln about the last thing his biology teacher had covered. Peeking through my lashes, I realized that probably wasn't the smartest idea.

Neither was accepting this tutoring position.

Lincoln resembled a statue. Not like Michelangelo's David — calm and calculative — but a peeved hunk of stone, frozen in a state of utter frustration. The only movement that came from him was the slow, irritated clicking of his jaw.

"Okay." I cleared my throat for the third time. "I figured it'd be easier just to start from the beginning. So, how about we start with cell—"

"I have to piss."

"You have got to be kidding me."

Lincoln rose from his seat, standing next to me. I felt like a mouse in the city. Lincoln Pierce was not the average height for a man his age. He was tall, with shoulders so thick they would put most American footballers to shame. I dwarfed in comparison. Cowering back, I made no move to stop him as he bent to grab his bag off the floor.

"You have to bring your bag with you to use the bathroom?" I said once he was a safe distance away. Lincoln being on his man-period would have explained a lot.

"What I do is none of your business." He stalked towards the still open door. I expected him to bulldoze through the library without a second thought, but he paused once he reached the threshold. Not even sparing me a glance, he said, "I suggest you take my offer into closer consideration. It might be in your best interest."

The reverberation of the door being slammed exploded throughout the library — something I was sure didn't impress the iron-fisted librarian, Ms. Scott. I glared at the open biology book in front of me. I didn't need a degree in microbiology to realize he wasn't coming back.