David lounged in the cafeteria, boots propped up on the edge of the table. His friends circled him, laughing and trading stories about their weekends, but his mind kept drifting. Red. The slap. The way her cheeks flushed with anger. No one had ever looked at him like that before—like he wasn’t worth their time. It was annoying. It was infuriating.
It was... kind of hot.
“You’re awfully quiet, Burns,” Nate said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. “Still licking your wounds from that slap?”
David’s jaw tightened. “I kissed her, didn’t I? That counts.”
“Does it?” Sophie’s voice cut through like a knife, her tone saccharine and laced with mockery. She leaned forward, her blonde curls falling over her shoulder. “Because I heard she didn’t exactly kiss you back.”
The table erupted in laughter, and David’s smirk slipped just enough for Nate to notice.
“Don’t worry, man,” Nate added, his grin wicked. “Happens to the best of us. Except, you know, it’s never happened to you.”
David’s smile returned, sharper now. “Don’t get used to it.”
***
In the next class, the opportunity practically fell into David’s lap. Betty sat two rows ahead, bent over her chemistry book, her head tilted as she scribbled something on a worksheet. She sighed heavily, erasing whatever she’d written and muttering under her breath.
David slid into the seat beside her.
“Having a little trouble there, Red?” His voice was low, smug, the same tone that had worked on a dozen other girls.
Her head snapped up, and her green eyes narrowed. “What do you want, David?”
“To help.” He gestured toward the worksheet. “It’s not rocket science.”
“Wow, thanks for the insight, Einstein.” She went back to scribbling, ignoring him completely.
David leaned closer, glancing at her work. “You’ve got the formula wrong.”
“Excuse me?”
“Here.” He grabbed her pen before she could react, correcting the equation on her page. “This should balance it.”
Betty snatched the pen back, her jaw tight. “Great. Thanks for your unsolicited mansplaining. Now leave.”
David grinned, leaning back in his chair. “You’re welcome, Red. Anytime.”
For a second, she stared at the corrected formula. Then she glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “Huh. Look at that. Turns out you have brains after all. Barely.”
Her words were sharp, but the smallest smile tugged at the corner of her mouth before she turned away. David leaned forward again, undeterred.
“You know, you could just say thank you.”
“Or you could just leave me alone.”
“Not gonna happen.”
By the end of the day, David had an idea. He walked into the counselor’s office like he owned the place, sliding into the chair across from her desk.
“Mrs. Parker,” he began, his voice smooth, “I wanted to talk to you about Betty Moore.”
The counselor adjusted her glasses. “What about her?”
“Well,” David said, leaning forward, “I’ve noticed she’s been struggling in chemistry. And, you know, I’m pretty good at it. I thought I’d offer to help her out.”
Mrs. Parker gave him a skeptical look. “You? Volunteering to tutor?”
“Call it... community service,” he said with a grin.
When Betty found out, it was during the last bell of the day. David was waiting for her by her locker, leaning casually against the wall. The second she saw him, she groaned.
“What now?” she asked, crossing her arms.
“You’re looking at your new chemistry tutor,” he said, his smirk practically gleaming.
Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I’ll see you tomorrow after school. We’ve got some work to do.”
She turned to walk away, but then stopped, spinning back toward him. “This is some kind of joke, right?”
“No joke.” David’s grin only widened. “I’m just here to help, Red.”