Sam Olsen sat in his math class utterly confused by the lessons that his teacher was explaining. He has managed to fluke his way up until this point. What was so hard about freaking algebra anyways? Sam cursed whoever incorporated math into school curriculums to hell. Freshman year had been a breeze at least academically, mentally now that was a whole different ball park. So why is it that sophomore year is being such a pain in his butt, well actually just algebra 2. He was doing perfectly fine in all of his other subjects. 

Just as he was about to slam his head into his desk in frustration the bell rang. The symbol of freedom...at least until you reached your next class. Sam packed his bag up quickly trying to get out of the class as quick as possible when his teacher stopped him. 

Mrs. Juarez was a super nice woman and it totally wasn’t her fault that Sam just couldn’t understand, which bothered him even more. He couldn’t blame his stupidity on her. 

“Samuel, I couldn’t help but notice that you seem to really be struggling still. I know you said that you were just a little behind, but don’t take this the wrong way, I don’t think that you will catch up on your own at this rate. I asked one of my top students in my AP calculus class if he would be willing to tutor you and he agreed. The decision is yours to make though” She smiled at me warmly and despite my overwhelming need to run away screaming, I just nodded, “Great! I’ll let him know to go and find you so that you two can set up a meeting of your own. Let me write you up a late pass so that your sixth period teacher doesn’t chew your head off” 

He gently took the paper from her hands and quickly rushed out of there and to the gym locker room. There was only one sixth period P.E class in the whole school as most sports teams reserved sixth period as theirs. Other people who didn’t have athleticism were required to take P.E to fill the highschool requirements, but most P.E classes were in the mornings. Not only did Sam get screwed with math class right after lunch, but he was also stuck with P.E as his last period which wasn’t all bad considering his teacher was too lazy to actually make them do anything. Sam just considered this class a waste of his time. 

Most of his peers would be overjoyed at the prospect of having a class where they could just hang out with their friends the whole hour, but Sam was somewhat of a loner. It’s not that he didn’t want friends or tried hard to avoid creating relationships, it was just that he lacked any sort of social intelligence. He was cripplingly shy and meek and the few times that people had attempted to befriend him they easily gave up when they realised that he didn’t talk much or they took advantage of his timidness. 

Sam spent his P.E just aimlessly walking around as that was his teacher’s one requirement. They could talk to friends or be on their phones as long as they kept walking. Sam appreciated the simple exercise that he got daily by doing these daily walks. He needed to lose a few pounds anyway or at least he felt like he did. 

Before he knew it the class was over and swarms of people rushed off of campus. Sam tried to get changed quickly, not because he had to be anywhere any time soon, but simply because he hated the school locker room. Sam’s sister was a senior at this school, but she avoided him at all costs and practically acted like he didn’t exist. So the two of them walked to and from school separately. It didn’t really bother Sam that he had to walk alone except for when it rained. That sucked, but it would suck whether there was someone walking with him or not.  

After visiting his locker Sam was just about to get headed home when he felt a large hand stop him and a deep voice call after him, “Wait! Are you Samuel Olsen?” 

Sam looked up to meet the gaze of the person holding his wrist in shock at his height. Sam knew exactly who this person was, well not exactly but he knew of this person. Treyvon Brown was the school’s golden boy. He was the star player on the basketball team and would no doubt move onto bigger and better things in the basketball world. Sam had no clue what the giant senior was doing talking to him. Maybe he knew his sister? 

Sam nodded at Treyvon who seemed relieved. He let go of Sam’s wrist as soon as he noticed that he was still holding it and apologized sheepishly, “Sorry about that. Mrs. Juarez told me to go look for you and showed me a picture of what you looked like. I promise I’m not stalking you. She said that you needed some help in algebra…” 

Sam nodded at him again and resided the urge to roll up into a ball and rock back and forth at this awkward encounter. Sam wondered how Treyvon could possibly want to tutor him? Treyvon seemed unsure of the smaller boy’s answer, but smiled positively nonetheless. Sam wasn’t exactly worried that Treyvon would be mean to him as he had heard from all of the countless conversations around the school that Treyvon was a genuinely nice guy. 

“You don’t talk much do you? That’s okay, my momma says that I could talk enough for all of the hair salons in the world” Treyvon had a bubbly personality that made him even more attractive. Sam appreciated that Treyvon wasn’t getting upset at him for not speaking or even forcing him to speak. He knew that he would need to eventually, but he was perfectly content listening to the boy next to him talk for the both of them. 

“So I have practice from sixth period until 5:00 most days, so I don’t know what time would work for you. Maybe we could tutor for an hour every school day, from 5:30 to 6:30 at the library so we won’t be bothered by our family or at least my family. I could pick you up if you want. Oh wait here’s my number” Sam barely had enough time to pull his phone up before Treyvon started rattling off numbers to him. Sam sent him a smiley face along with a simple ‘this is Sam’ text. 

Treyvon smiled at the message, and saved Sam’s number. Great! I’ll pick you up tomorrow. It was nice meeting you, don’t forget to text me your address” 

Sam stood there in shock as he processed the strange encounter he just had. Was this what it was like having to interact with people? It was a little tiring if he was being honest. Sam didn’t think that people were normally that happy, maybe Treyvon had something wrong with him that made him abnormally happy? Whatever it was, Sam thought it was kind of cute how enthusiastic Treyvon was, not that he would ever admit it.

⯀

Treyvon Brown was shocked when Mrs. Juarez personally asked him to tutor one of her younger students. She explained that he was a nice boy despite being shy and a little unapproachable at times. He eagerly agreed hoping that this would provide him with an opportunity to make another friend as well as allow Mrs. Juarez to be able to write a much stronger letter of recommendation for him. It’s already been more than a month into school and Treyvon felt especially pressured to get all of his college applications done early. 

Treyvon wasn’t familiar with the name Sam Olsen nor was he familiar with the boy either. Mrs. Juarez was kind enough to show him the boy’s school picture where Treyvon inwardly noted how even the boy’s smile seemed to want to hide away. 

When he finally spotted his target about to leave the school he quickly ran after him, ignoring the questioning shouts from his teammates and coach. He really needed to talk to Sam before he couldn’t find him again, especially if he needed help just as much as Mrs. Juarez has stressed he did. One of the first things he noticed was just how small Sam was, and how his school picture certainly didn’t do him any justice. Sam was not only a lot shorter than Treyvon, but also a lot thinner. It was almost as if you could break him in half with a little hug. 

He had wavy, golden hair that barely touched his shoulders, and petite features that screamed cute. Even Treyvon could admit that the other boy was so adorable that he just wanted to put him in his pocket. His eyes were a lovely baby blue that screamed innocence, and they seemed to widen at the sight of Treyvon. His pale skin flushed pink when Treyvon forgot to let go of his wrist. 

After establishing their plans, Treyvon felt accomplished with himself even if Sam hadn’t uttered a single word to him that whole time. At least he didn’t run away from him even if he looked like he wanted to which made Treyvon frown. He thought he made sure to look and be extra friendly. Maybe he was just reading into this too much, Sam even sent him a smiley face so he couldn’t have hated him. 

“What the hell man!? Why did you just leave in the middle of the drill?” Treyvon’s best friend and teammate Darius questioned him. 

Treyvon shrugged, “I had to do something important. I’ll deal with the consequences. It can’t be too bad, I was gone for less than 5 minutes” 

Darius didn’t look too convinced and for good reason. Coach Boone wasn’t someone that you messed with or took lightly. For every minute that someone showed up late to practice the team had to run the same amount of suicides. A running drill (or punishment in most eyes) where the player has to touch each line on the court and back. The person who was late didn’t run and instead stood on the sidelines sweating from guilt and the deadly glares that their teammates threw their way for making them run more than they already had to. People quickly learned not to be late, amongst other things that got on Boone’s nerves. 

Much to his relief, Boone only made Treyon run 5 laps around the court after he explained that his abrupt leave had to do with school business. If there were two things that Boone did not mess around with it was basketball and education. Boone besides being the basketball coach was also a history teacher which surprised and scared his players at times. 

Practice ended pretty soon after 5:00 and after Treyvon got changed and into his car he checked his phone only to smile at the text he got from Sam, along with his address. 

-It was nice to meet you Treyvon. See you tomorrow. :)

-It was nice to meet you too, Sam! Can’t wait! 

Treyvon sent his own message back to Sam before heading off to his house, ready to get started on his homework while he waited for his momma’s cooking to fill the whole house with its lovely aroma. 

“Trey! It’s dinner!” He heard the sound of his younger brother Jeremiah yell from downstairs impatiently. Him momma probably told the fourteen year old that he wasn’t allowed to eat until the whole family was downstairs, so that they could eat together. 

“Hi baby, how was school and practice?” His momma asked as he served himself a helping of dinner. 

“It was okay. Oh I almost forgot to tell you that I’m not going to be home until 6:30 now. Mrs. Juarez asked if I could help tutor one of her younger students and I agreed. His name is Sam, and he’s blonde” Treyvon didn’t really know why he felt so eager to tell his mom about Sam’s hair color, but he did. 

Chantelle Brown just laughed at her son’s rambling, “That’s nice honey, blonde is a nice hair color”. 

Jeremiah and their dad also laughed at Treyvon who sulked and shoved his face full of vegetables so that he could give them the silent treatment without accidentally talking to them. Treyvon unfortunately ran out of vegetables so he was forced to converse with his family and enjoy the moment. He was truly blessed with a loving and supporting family.