Calista

Lincoln was beginning to get on my last nerve.

The first two sessions we had together, he was—what some would consider—fashionably late. Sure, it was irritating. We didn't get through much of the content, but at least we got through something. At least, that's what I've been telling myself to get past the overwhelming sense of dread.

Midterms were less than two weeks away and I wasn't feeling very confident with how Lincoln was going to perform. We had barely scratched the surface of the preliminary material that would be necessary for him to comprehend the rest of the unit. At this point, I wasn't even sure his average would improve by a single percentage.

Regardless of the slow progress, I did expect him to at least show up. And, at the very least, not cancel on me at the last minute.

I had been sitting in the study room, working on a biochemistry reading when my phone screen flashed.

Lincoln: Can't make it. First match Friday.

Me: You realized this 30 mins into our would-be tutoring session?

Annoyance rolled off me in waves. The gull of this guy. The sheer ignorance.

Minutes ticked by, and as expected, Lincoln didn't grace me with a response. He was probably too busy beating a punching bag with my face on it. I let out a huff of air as I collected my things off the study room desk. I don't know why I even bothered showing up.

He clearly didn't.

I let frustration prick at my skin until I made it outside the library building. The heavy metal doors banged shut and I finally allowed myself to take in a deep breath. Even though the sun was shining it was frigid outside. The crisp air dried out my throat and I pulled my jacket closer as I began my hike through campus.

The heels of my boots clacked with every step I took back to the dorms. For some reason the sound only egged me on, coerced me to confront Lincoln Pierce and his dismissive attitude. He might not care if he doesn't pass anatomy. But he wasn't the only person who was trying to benefit from this arrangement. Without giving myself time to reconsider, I took a hard left down a path that would circle back to one of Fenton's many fitness facilities.

I wasn't going to allow Lincoln to waste my time. If he wasn't serious about this tutoring situation then I would find another way to get Professor Hamilton's letter of recommendation. I'm sure Lincoln wasn't the only student doing poorly in one of his classes. There had to be other Lincolns out there. Other Lincolns that would be grateful for my help; that wouldn't be grossly late to every session or—better yet—actually show up.

Whatever I was conjuring up in my head started to unravel as my destination came into view. How was I going to get in?

The doors to any of the athletic department buildings at Fenton were locked 24/7. Only staff and students who pertained to that department could enter the facilities with their swipe card.

As luck would have it, footsteps rounded the corner as I stood outside the gym doors. I wasn't surprised to see a broad man step up onto the concrete platform. His hair was cut short to his head. The thick coiled locks resembled dark clouds. His football jacket was pulled taut over his broad shoulders and a large duffle bag dangled by his side. He paused when he reached the building doors, hands searching his pockets.

"Hey." I stepped up beside him. "Sorry, but would you mind letting me in? I'm meant to be meeting someone, but in typical fashion he isn't answering his phone," I said, flashing him my conversation with Lincoln.

He removed an earphone and regarded the messages for a brief second.

"Lincoln, as in Lincoln Pierce?" He chuckled when he took note of the name on the top of the screen. "Pierce has never been good at answering his phone." A dimpled smile graced his features.

I couldn't help but smile in return. This guy was all man, but the smile on his face right now had a boyish charm. "You know him well then."

"As well as anyone around here," he said. "Pierce's not much of a talker."

It was good to know I wasn't the only one that Lincoln decided to be closed off around. With Harper, Ella and I, there were no secrets. The openness I held with them transferred to every other aspect of my life. I forgot that not everyone followed the same philosophy. Sure, I hadn't known him for long but Lincoln Pierce was definitely not an open book.

He flashed the student card that he fished out of his varsity jacket. "I'll let you in. I think their season is just starting so he's probably busy training."

Triumph washed over me when the scanner beeped in approval. He pried the door open and waved me in. "Ladies, first."

"Thank you," I said, grateful to get inside and out of the cold.

I shivered with the change in temperature. The boxing facility was busier than I expected it to be. Every inch of space was being utilised in one way or another.

It didn't take long for my eyes to zone in on the reason I had marched over here in the first place. Lincoln's hefty frame was in the centre of a boxing ring on the far left side of the room. He was sporting black shorts that hung low on his trim waist. A matching pair of boxing gloves encased his hands.

At least he wasn't lying.

There was someone in the ring with him. The guy in front of him hopped around. Each of his hands were suited in strike pads, but the goofy grin on his face made me think he wasn't one of the trainers.

The guy who let me in followed my gaze to the centre of the ring. "You guys friends or something?"

"Or something." I turned to look at him. "I'm meant to be tutoring him."

He gave me a knowing look. "Let me guess, that's why he's avoiding you like the plague."

"You know him better than you think."

He let out a low chuckle. "I've always been pretty good at reading people." He took a step towards the locker room before saying, "I'm Dante, by the way."

"I'm Cali."

"Nice to meet you Cali," Dante said, taking another backwards step. "Good luck."

I waited for Dante to disappear behind the locker room door before beelining for the boxing ring by the far left of the room.

"You know, when you have to cancel on someone, the considerate thing to do is cancel before your plans start."

Lincoln brought his gloved hands down by his side. The sweat on his body glistened in the brightly lit gymnasium. The large, square windows on the wall next to the ring were doing him justice. A bead of moisture emerged from his hairline and trailed its way down his chiselled cheekbone.

"It was a last minute match."

I tried to stay focused on the fiery emotions I was feeling on my way over here. "I'm sure you didn't just find out thirty minutes ago."

If what Dante told me was correct, Lincoln knew this match was coming up. It would have been his first match of the season. The match was scheduled. And he was well aware of that. He was simply using it as an excuse to get out of tutoring.

"Not to be that bitch, but I'm sure I don't have to remind you that this," I said, gesturing to the boxing ring with my finger. "Will no longer be your reality if you fail your finals."

"Ahh," the other person in the ring started, "so you're the tutor."

He bent low by the ropes, taking the training pad off his right hand. "I'm Drew. Lincoln's high school BFF and manager extraordinaire." He winked. "And you are?"

"Cali," I said, bluntly.

Drew extended his hand between the ropes, a cheshire grin on his face. "I've heard so much about you."

"None of it good, I presume."

"Not unless being a hardass is a good quality to have."

I centred a glare at Lincoln. "Would you like to elaborate? I thought I'd been pretty generous up until now."

Lincoln didn't respond to me. Instead he stepped forward and nudged Drew in the head with his glove. "Okay, you're not helping."

Drew returned to his full height, laughing at his own devices.

"Look, if you aren't going to take this seriously, I might as well tell Professor Hamilton that the deal is off. I'm not going to get that reference letter if he doesn't see results, and right now, it doesn't look like we're going to see any."

Lincoln remained stone faced. It was hard to tell what he was thinking when he looked so pissed off all of the time.

"I've told you before," Lincoln said. "This tutoring thing isn't going to work out for me. I've got too much on my plate as it is."

I analyzed him for a moment.

"With boxing? Serious question; how are you planning on competing once you're off the team? Because, from my understanding, you won't be on the team for much longer unless you pick your grades up."

"I'll figure it out."

"Great," I said, annoyed that he was just going to blow me off like that. "Then we don't have to waste each other's time anymore."

I began walking towards the direction that Dante disappeared in.

"Where are you going?" Drew asked, pointing to the other side of the gym. "The exit is that way."

"I'm just going to pop in and let Coach Whitmore know that Lincoln will no longer be receiving tutoring. He's going to need a heads up to find a replacement for the upcoming boxing match on Friday."

Lincoln was out of the ring and in front of me in a matter of seconds.

"You don't have to do that." Lincoln said. His voice was calm, but his actions told me otherwise.

I noticed it during our first tutoring session, but Lincoln was hefty. Six feet of solid muscle that I was able to appreciate now that his chest was bare. I didn't dare show it, but I was slightly intimidated.

Forcing my voice to stay levelled, I said, "If he doesn't find out now, he'll find out in a couple of hours once Professor Hamilton gets a hold of him."

Lincoln continued to stand there, appearing to contemplate what I had just told him. I don't know what his original plan was to avoid tutoring and still manage to get everything he wanted. But it was then that he realized it wasn't going to happen.

"And there's nothing I can say to make you play along?"

I shook my head. "Unless I want to make myself look like an idiot in front of the professor I am trying to impress."

"Technically, I'd be the one who looks like an idiot."

I offered a pitying smile. That wasn't going to work for me. If we were going to make some sort of deal, it had to work in my favour too.

Lincoln seemed to realize this too. "Fine."

I bit back the feeling of triumph filling my belly. Keeping my expression blank, I echoed him. "Fine?"

"I'll take your help. I'll take this tutoring thing more seriously." I could visibly see him swallowing his pride.

"So you won't come to study sessions late anymore?"

He shook his head.

"And you won't blow me off to practice beating someone's brains out?"

He shook his head.

"And you'll do everything I say?"

"Within reason."

I smiled at that. It was as if Lincoln was afraid I might have him walk around campus in a chicken suit while reciting all the muscles that make up a human arm. "Fair enough."

As long as Lincoln was completely on board, that reference letter was back on the table.

"Since you missed today, meet me tomorrow. Eleven o'clock sharp."

"I can't make it before four," Lincoln said.

"Thursdays are my late nights," I explained. It wasn't my favourite thing in the world either. Note to self: don't schedule 8pm labs and practicum on the same day. I crossed my arms over my chest. "Why, what is it this time?"

Lincoln's jaw ticked. "Nothing. I'll be there."

"Great," I said, moving away from the boy's locker room. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

Drew was leaning against the ropes. His bare arms dangling over the top. There was an amused twinkle in his eyes as he watched me walk back towards the gym entrance.

"It was nice meeting you, Cali."

I didn't bother looking back at them. "I wish I could say the feeling was mutual." 

* * * * *

author's note:

Look at Cali taking charge. I'm so proud of her. Do you think Lincoln's going to stick to his word?

See you Friday!