It was a day later and Betsy was situated in English class, a pen in her hand and her dark hazel eyes focused on the work in front of her.

She jotted down answers to questions easily and steadily, not paying any attention to the people around her. Her class was advanced, so academically the students in it scored high marks but still, a lot of them only had one thing on their minds and that was chatting to friends.

Betsy however ignored her friends when it came to English, and a perfect example of who did the complete opposite was Ashton Anders.

On the other side of the class, in a small corner at the far back, Ashton sat talking to friends about their upcoming football game.

Slyly, he would every so often glimpse over at Betsy and watch as she read over a question and wrote a string of words he yearned to read.

He wanted to see what the mind of Betsy Violet was like—the words she expressed into her work that caused her such amazing grades.

And so, out of nowhere a burst of confidence shot through his blood and he stood up.

His friends glanced at him oddly, furrowing their eyebrows and watching his movements but he paid no attention to their curiosity and made his way over to where Betsy sat.

Ashton scraped back an empty seat next to her own and plopped himself down, a flirtatious smile spreading on his face.

"Hey," he said, grabbing her attention.

She gazed up, widening her eyes at the sight of Ashton sitting there all casual and calm, not a bother in the world. Deep down he was nervous as fuck though, butterflies were burning in the pit of his stomach and as much as he hated the feeling, he couldn't deny it.

"Oh...um..sup," she said, before going back to her work.

She really was stubborn Ashton thought to himself.

"So... The teacher told me you agreed to tutor me.."

Betsy only nodded.

Ashton tried again, "Well, when do you want to start?"

Finally, she halted her writing and carefully placed her pen down, peering over towards Ashton.

"I'm free basically everyday after school and weekends," she informed him, offering a small, polite smile.

He viewed it as victory. Because when her dimples appeared ever so slightly, he melted and fuck, he felt like he was in year 5 again talking to his first crush.

"Sounds good," he grunted out in attempt to cover up his nervous energy.

Betsy sensed this, almost.

"And you? When are you free?" she asked, eyes swirling with a touch of amusement.

Ashton scratched the back of his neck, "Uhh Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Every other day is uh, dedicated to footy."

Betsy smiled and rolled her eyes, "Of course."

"I can–we can do it after footy practice sometimes though? Like I don't mind I just might be tired and stuff you know..?"

Fuck. He thought to himself. He was rambling and all that was escaping his pretty lips was pure nonsense that even he, had to face palm himself for. He sounded like an idiot. Way to fucking go.

Betsy on the other hand, chuckled at the boy next to her, "Let's just do Tuesday and Thursday's after school yeah? My house Tuesday, yours Thursday."

Ashton nodded, "Ok sure but what if I need extra help..?"

"Then we can extend it to Saturday as well or better yet we can interrupt your precious days dedicated to football," She replied, watching as he let out an awkward laugh.

Damn. How do people like this kid? He's boring as fuck, she thought to herself, biting her lip as she regained herself from laughing a little too hard at the guy.

"O-okay cool," he said with a small shrug.

"Cool."