Her and the Basketball Champion

chapter 33

"I need you to tutor me." He says, traces of nervousness coating his voice as he speaks.

I blink in confusion and furrow my eyebrows. What is he on about? Tutoring?

"Um, I'm sorry what?" I say, as I continue to look up at him.

"I said I need you to tutor me. Like badly. I'm failing and you're the only person I can think of, that I like, to tutor me." My eyes widen at his words, and my body starts to heat up. He likes me? No, he probably is just saying that because he wants me to tutor him.

"I'm not a tutor." I reply bluntly, because frankly, if I spent anymore time with this guy, I would probably just melt.

"Please." He says, and it sounds like he's begging from the way his eyebrows droop a little bit, and his voice lowers a fraction. That just makes him even more-

No, not the time, Eliza.

I continue to stare up at him with curiosity, trying to see if he's serious about this or just playing around. I decide to entertain the idea a little.

"What subject?" I ask.

"History." He visibly brightens up at my words, clearly hopeful that I'll tutor him.

I'm shocked at his response. I never would have thought of him as someone who liked history, let alone is studying it for A-Levels, but I guess there's more to him than meets the eye.

I stare up into his eyes and am absorbed by how the colour stands out so much. It's always the first thing I notice about him when I look at him, and I don't ever get tired of seeing them.

If I do tutor him, then that means we will need to be spending time together, alone presumably, and that's a hard ask. It would also mean that my plan to try and avoid him will fail. Miserably.

There's no harm, because he clearly seems desperate, but why can't he just get someone more experienced and patient, because that is what I am most certainly not.

"Look Jonas, I'm sure there's many other people who are experienced, and better than me who will do a better job at tutoring you. Plus I'm not the most patient person ever." I say, trying to get my point across to him by waving my hands around like a manic, gesturing between us as I speak.

"No. I'm sure you'll be good. Plus I need it ASAP and don't really have the time to look for anyone else. Just, please?" He replies and I finally give in.

Sometimes I have such a piece of shit brain for automatically making decisions for me, and before I even process it, I'm agreeing. "Fine, okay. I'll tutor you. Do you have textbooks and notes already made?" I say and I watch as Jonas' face relaxes and he lets out a sigh of relief at my words.

He nods eagerly and I shake my head, laughing lightly at how excited he is. This dude is getting happy over fricking tutoring.

"You really are desperate aren't you?" I laugh and he just rolls his eyes at my comment before taking a seat on the chair next to me. He leans his elbows forward on the table, folding his hands as he looks at me directly in the eyes. The way he's sitting makes me nearly fold as I see his long fingers and upper arms from where he's rolled up his sleeves. There are light veins running up the insides of his forearms and I spot a tattoo on his right arm that is facing me, just where his pulse is. It's relatively small but I still make out the number 30, engraved onto his skin.

"Like something you see, princess?" He says, and I can hear the cockiness in his tone. I just know he's smirking right now and return my eyes back to his, clearing my throat.

I just got caught fucking staring at his arms.

"You have a tattoo. What does it mean." I ask, trying to steer the conversation away from my obvious admiration of his arms.

He shrugs lightly and looks down to where the tattoo is placed. "It's my basketball number." He replies, looking at me again.

I thought I had recognised it somewhere. Apart from it being a common number, whenever I had gone to one of his games, he would wear a shirt with the number 30 on it. I guess I had just overlooked it before, but now I definitely remember.

"Nice." I say, and mentally cringe at my choice of words. It's not like I can say, wow I don't notice, I was too busy watching your sexy back while you were playing.

That would be too weird.

A comfortable silence descends, and I look down onto my lap, fiddling with the ring on my middle finger.

"So, when do you want to start?" I ask, looking back at him to see him already staring intently at me. I avoid any random facial expressions and keep my face blank as I look at him.

"Can we start today? After school?" He says and I'm surprised at how soon he wants to start. I guess he has a lot of catching up to do.

"Yeah, I guess so." I don't really mind, because I was planning on going to the Cafe after school anyway to get some homework done. Plus I don't have a shift today so I'm completely free the whole evening.

"Good. I'll meet you after school and we can walk over to the Cafe together?" He replies and I nod my head, telling him that we should meet at the black gates in front of school. He has other ideas though.

"What lesson do you have last?" He asks and I freeze.

I manage to form some words, waiting for him to elaborate before I jump to conclusions.

"I have English Lit. Mrs James." I say.

"I'll pick you up from her room then." He states, and the way he's so firm in his decision makes me stop any disagreeing arguments from coming out of my mouth.

To be fair, I don't have any.

I just nod my head, at a loss for words. He really wants to pick me up from class.

I know I'm probably overreacting right now, but no one ever in my whole entire life has willingly been the one to initiate me being picked up from lesson. Yeah, I literally force Lily to sometimes, but that's different because I make her do it. Plus we usually just meet up outside of the gates instead walking all over school.

Wait, doesn't he have any lessons last?

"Hold on, what do you have last? You're going to have to be running around the whole school. Plus it's probably just easier if we-"

I get cut off by Jonas' deep voice. "I'v got a free. I'll pick you up okay?"

"Are you-"

"Yes. I'm picking you up." I silence at his authoritative tone and he has such a determined look in his eyes, contrary from his blank face, that I don't protest anymore.

Goddamn, his voice.

I can't help but notice how hot he sounds when he's commanding.

What the fuck-

I should not be thinking this right now.

I need to compose myself before I really do faint.