6 | daring solutions

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I'm still in denial that I begged Camila Moore to tutor me, but desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess

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I'm still in denial that I begged Camila Moore to tutor me, but desperate times call for desperate measures, I guess.

I've got one shot to impress the scouts and failing psychology will put me on the bench, so it isn't an option.

Lucky me, the smartest girl in town is tutoring me. The only problem is the fact that she hates me. Which, to be completely honest, is fair since we haven't exactly ever met under the best circumstances.

As I run towards the bakery at 6pm, I mentally kick myself for being half an hour late. She warned me, I know, but Coach kept us longer at practice and I couldn't leave or text Camila because we have a no phone in practice policy.

Now, I'm worried she'll think I'm not taking this seriously. I need to stop screwing things up.

When I finally push open the door with the smell of pie, pastries and coffee lingering in the air, I see Camila busy helping her mom clear tables.

You know what else I can see? The frustration and anger in her eyes when she spots me.

I could have never imagined so much attitude could come out of a girl as quiet as her but I swear, I could almost see smoke around her head.

"I'm so so sorry I'm late," I say, trying to catch my breath after the sprint I took here. "Practice ran late."

"Why am I not surprised?" she replies, not trying to hide her annoyance.

I can't blame her, she's right. I'm the one who needed this.

"Look, I really am sorry. Coach has been all over us because of the match against Riverton. I couldn't text you because I didn't have my phone and I also couldn't leave or he'd bench me." I tell her.

"Whatever, Reed. You do realize I'm the one doing you a favor, right? Just don't make me regret it," she says. "Let's get started."

She leads me to a small table at the back of the bakery. It's clear it was cleaned up exactly for this because I can see it almost shinning and some boxes from what seem like supplies on the corner of the room.

A fresh notebook, her notes, textbooks and a pencil case are on the table, making me feel a pang of guilt for not being more punctual.

"I brought some notes... and my textbook." I say, hoping to show her I'm serious about this.

"You did? Well, that's a good start," she says, sounding surprised. "I have to admit, I didn't expect you to."

 (𝐈𝐍)𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 | ✍︎Where stories live. Discover now