Chapter 15: Incentive

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Song Suggestion: Everywhere - Fleetwood Mac

Unedited

*****

"Let me see." Grayson says from behind me, leaning down.

I still haven't had the chance to find anything in his room, to use as blackmail. He's been breathing down my neck ever since we came in here, and it's getting exhausting. I didn't think he'd be so intent on making me learn.

"I'm not done-" I protest, but he's quick to snatch the worksheet out of my hand, before I am able to grab it off of him.

He assesses my work with a raised brow, scanning up and down the page, taking his sweet time. I cross my arms stiffly, pretending to be disinterested.

"Did I get them right?" I ask casually, looking at my nails.

He looks from the page to me, back to the page, and then to me again, "Yes, you did. You're a genius." He drawls.

"What? Really!" I say, a grin on my face. He thinks I'm a genius! That has to count for something right?

"Of course I am-"

He looks at me with mock sympathy, tutting, shaking his head, "I was being sarcastic." He states.

I frown, "What? What is wrong with you?" I scowl. "You have issues! How did I even get them wrong?? Maybe you marked them incorrectly!" I snatch the page off of him, holding it in my hands.

"How are these wrong?" I look up at him with furrowed brows. I thought I was getting better...

I groan internally. Apparently not.

"You keep forgetting to divide the answer by two." He rubs his eyes with his hands, sighing. He looks tired, almost annoyed. 

Is he disappointed in me? I wonder distantly, sighing sort of quietly. I look down at the sheet again, can feel his eyes on me. Assessing me. Trying to figure me out.

"I'm stupid." I shrug nonchalantly. "You already knew this. Not exactly sure what you were expecting of me." I scoff, trying to ignore the pang in my chest.

He continues to look at me, not saying anything for a moment.

"You're improving." He says softly, after a while, making me snap my head up to meet his eyes. His face is not mocking, like usual, but this time it's sincere.

"What?"

"You're improving." He repeats again. "You're still not there yet, but you will. You just need to learn how to listen to me."

Was that almost a compliment? I'm impressed. I go to reply but he continues.

"I think that maybe you need an incentive..." He drawls, trailing off quietly, leaving me to wonder.

I don't understand what he means, if that much wasn't obvious to begin with. What kind of incentive is he talking about?

"I don't understand." I say simply, waiting for him to continue.

He smiles, his eyes narrowed down at me a bit, "You don't care about your grades. That much is obvious. But, the reason why you don't care is because there are no consequences."

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