Stereotypical

one

I was never good at school. Or sports. Or art. I was just like anybody else in high school, except my grades were worse and I weighed a little more.

Before you ask, no I don't have a learning disability, and no I don't have diabetes. 

That's probably why I got assigned a tutor. The grades, not my weight. A boy I had never spoken to before. I had heard his name, because he's the star of the football and basketball teams. But again, I've never had a conversation with him. 

Until two months ago, when he became my tutor, he was just another face I passed  in the hallway. We're both seniors, so it's a little bit awkward. 

 You may be wondering who this is. It's Ian Dickinson. Younger brother of James Charles, the make-up legend. I watch James on Youtube occasionally. I don't have any artistic ability, so I could never follow his make-up tutorials, but they're fun to watch. 

Oh, right. I haven't introduced myself. I'm Reid. Reid Jackson, standing at a whopping 5-foot-three-and-a-half. I have a younger sister, Mia. I live with my dad and step-mother, due to my mother leaving us when I was 9. But that's a story for another day. 

"So you must be Reid?" Ian asks me after class. 

"It appears so." I say. 

I don't really need a tutor. I just don't turn in my assignments. I mean I do sometimes, but most of the time I just to care to do them. 

"Little bit of sass. That's fun." he laughs as I collect my binder and book from the basket beneath my desk. 

"I suppose.  So are we actually going to do this tutoring thing? I could give twenty bucks, we could say we do it but never actually do it." I was hoping for him to take the money and run, but of course nothing goes my way. 

"Yeah, I actually do think we should. You could use the help, and I could use this for college applications. And I don't think Diana will mind, especially since this is for school." He smiles at me and walks out of the classroom. 

Diana Lambert is his girlfriend. Captain of the volleyball team, and queen bee of the hall. Or so she thinks. 

"Okay. When do we start?" I ask, stopping at my locker. 

"Tomorrow, after football. Let me see your phone." Hesitantly, I hand over my cell phone and one of the juniors on the team walks by and shouts 'Android' at us. I roll my eyes and Ian hands me my phone back.

"I added my number to your contacts. Text me your address tonight, and I'll pick you up after practice tomorrow." A group of football players turns the corner and walks in our direction. As they pass us, Ian smiles and joins them.  "See you tomorrow, Reid!" 

I just stood at my locker, watching him walk down the hallway, laughing with the team. I don't know how this tutoring thing is going to work when he's so freaking bubbly. I don't know if I can do this. 

I mean I guess this is a good start to make my dad proud. 

I start my walk home, which takes about fifteen minutes. My dad's car isn't here, which tells me that he's picking Mia up right about now. 

When I enter the house, I go straight to my room and toss my backpack into the floor. I throw myself onto my full size bed. 

Why did I agree to do this tutoring? Especially with Mr. Popularity. I don't know how somebody can be so darn perfect. He's got the looks, the body, and the grades. He's got everything. He even has the perfect girlfriend. Plus he's happy AND friendly. 

What a second. Why the heck am I thinking about him-

My thoughts are interrupted by Mia jumping into my bed with me. She's only five, so she's still sweet and innocent. One thing she doesn't know yet, is that we don't share the same mom. We do look alike, which is kind of crazy.