Between The Lines

Chapter 98: Dreamin' Bout You

Third Person:

Rebecca made her way to Lane's office after school, her heart fluttering slightly at the thought of seeing him again. As she approached his door, she took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. The past few days had been a whirlwind of emotions, but she was determined to keep her cool, especially around him. After all, she had to prove to herself that she could handle this—handle him—without completely falling apart every time they were alone together.

She knocked lightly before pushing the door open. Lane looked up from his desk, and the moment their eyes met, a warm smile spread across his face, lighting up the room. That smile—how was she supposed to keep her composure when he looked at her like that?

"Hey," she greeted, closing the door behind her and leaning against it for a moment. She had been working on perfecting her sarcastic tone, hoping it would help her mask the butterflies that always seemed to swarm whenever he was around.

"Hey yourself," he replied, leaning back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers.

Rebecca pushed off the door and approached him, trying to keep her steps steady. "I need your help," she said, her voice laced with faux nonchalance. "With maths."

Lane raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Math, huh? Didn't think you'd be coming to me for that."

She settled into the chair beside his, crossing her legs and leaning back as if she were completely relaxed. "Well, you did say I could come to you for help. So here I am." She flashed him a smirk, but on the inside, she was desperately hoping he wouldn't notice how fast her heart was beating.

"Alright then," he said, his smile growing wider. "What's giving you trouble?"

She pulled out her math textbook and flipped to the page she'd been struggling with. The equations stared back at her like some ancient language she had no hope of understanding. "This," she said, pointing to a particularly complicated problem. "I've tried it like a hundred times, and it still makes no sense."

Lane glanced at the problem, then back at her, his expression softening. "Okay, let's break it down," he said, grabbing a pencil and a piece of paper. He started explaining the steps, his voice calm and patient, as if he had all the time in the world to help her figure it out.

But the more he explained, the more lost she felt. She tried to follow along, but every new step seemed to add another layer of confusion. "Wait, what?" she interrupted, her brow furrowing in frustration. "How did you get that?"

Lane chuckled softly. "Let's go over it again." He repeated the steps, but Rebecca was still struggling to keep up. It was like trying to catch water with her bare hands—every time she thought she understood, it slipped away.

Finally, she grabbed the pencil from him and leaned over the paper, determined to figure it out on her own. "Let me try," she said, biting her lip in concentration. She started working through the problem, her face scrunched up in focus. But after the fifth failed attempt, she groaned in frustration, dropping the pencil onto the desk.

Lane, who had been trying his best to hold back his laughter, finally gave in, his head falling into his hands as he chuckled. Rebecca shot him a glare and, without thinking, slapped him lightly on the back of the head.

"Hey!" Lane protested, rubbing the spot where she'd hit him. "I'm still your teacher, you know."

Rebecca rolled her eyes, trying to suppress a smile. "Yeah, and you're a terrible one," she teased, though the warmth in her voice took the sting out of her words. "How am I supposed to learn anything when you're over here laughing at me?"