Persistence

I checked my phone for the third time that afternoon. No response. Again. 

With a slow breath, I pinched the bridge of my nose, willing myself not to throw my phone across the room. This was getting ridiculous. 

It had been a week since Mr. Everett assigned me as Boe's tutor. I tried to set up a schedule, but every time—every single time—he either rescheduled or straight-up ghosted me. 

At first, he was somewhat polite about it. 

Boe: Can't make it today. Stomach flu. Dying. 

Fine. People get sick. I could be reasonable. 

Boe: Hey, something came up. 

Suspicious. But okay. Maybe he was busy.

Then, the excuses started getting worse. 

Boe: Hey, can we reschedule? My grandma's fish died. Gotta attend the funeral. 

I stared at my phone for a solid minute. 

Victor: What. 

No reply. 

Then, a day later—

Boe: Got lost on the way to the library. Going home now. 

Victor: The library is inside the school. 

Boe: Exactly. Scary place. 

At some point, he stopped responding entirely. No messages, no excuses—nothing. Just complete silence. 

I had enough. 

If he wasn't going to come to me, I was going to find him. 

—

I asked a few people in our class, but the answers were all the same. 

"Boe? No idea."

"Haven't seen him all day."

"Who?" 

Was this guy a ghost? Did he even exist outside of class? Because right now, I was starting to doubt it. 

I clenched my jaw, exhaling sharply as I ran a hand through my hair. If he thought he could just avoid me forever, he had another thing coming. 

Eventually, I caught sight of him near the back entrance of the school, slipping out the door like he didn't want to be seen. 

Got you.

I moved quickly stepping outside before the door swung shut behind him. "Hey."

Boe stiffened. Slowly, he turned to face me, a slow, lazy smirk tugging at his lips. "Victor," he greeted, dragging out my name. "Fancy meeting you here." 

I crossed my arms. "Yeah, real fancy. Now, let's go." 

He blinked. "Go where?" 

I rolled my eyes. "Where do you think? Tutoring." 

Boe groaned, dramatically slumping forward. "Ugh, do we have to?" 

"Yes," I said flatly. "And this time, you're not running off."

Before he could argue, I grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward the library. 

Boe sighed as we walked through the hallways. "You know, manhandling me like this feels illegal." 

"Shut up and walk," I muttered, keeping my grip firm on his wrist. 

He didn't actually struggle, though. Just kept pace beside me, acting like this was the biggest inconvenience of his life. 

After a few moments of silence, he sighed again. "You really don't give up, huh?" 

"Nope."

"Figures." He shoved his free hand into his hoodie pocket. "You're so stubborn" 

I let out a slow breath, choosing to ignore him as we rounded the corner. The closer we got to the library, the more tense he seemed. His fingers twitched slightly at his sides, and he kept glancing toward the doors like he was debating whether to make a run for it." 

"Don't even think about it," I warned. 

Boe groaned. "Damn... Guess I do have to do this after all."

I shoved open the library door, forcing him inside. 

We settled at a table near the back of the library. I pulled out my notes while Boe leaned back in his chair, spinning a pencil between his fingers. 

"Alright," I stared, pushing a worksheet toward him. "Let's see what you know." 

Boe groaned but picked up the pencil anyway, eyeing the first problem. He tapped the eraser against the paper, stalling. Then he slowly looked up at me. 

I sighed. "I'll explain it."

As I explained the steps, he nodded along, occasionally twirling his pencil between his fingers. I wasn't sure if he was actually listening or just pretending to, but at least he wasn't making excuses to leave. 

After a few minutes, I slid my notebook toward him. "Try this one." 

A few minutes passed as he scribbled numbers, some correct, some obviously wrong. I frowned, about to correct him when his phone buzzed against the desk. 

Boe flinched. 

It was barely noticeable—a small, quick movement—but I caught it. 

His fingers tightened around the pencil as he side-eyed the screen, not reaching for it right away. The screen was angled away from me.

I raised a brow. "Aren't you going to check that?" 

"No," he said too quickly. He picked up his eraser and aggressively rubbed out half of his answer. "Just spam." 

This time, he sucked in a quiet breath and lipped it over, screen-down, before giving me a forced grin. "So, how am I doing?" 

I grabbed the worksheet and scanned his answers. My eyes narrowed. 

"You got, like, half of these wrong." 

Boe rested his chin on his palm, completely unbothered. "Oops." 

I exhaled sharply, circling the mistakes. "You acted like you didn't need tutoring, but this—" I tapped the paper. "—says otherwise." 

Boe hummed, dragging out a lazy, "Mmm." He barely glanced at the sheet before spinning his pencil. 

I clenched my jaw, turning back to the worksheet. "Alright, let's go through these—" 

But before I could finish, he snatched the sheet from my hands. "Actually, let me try again." 

I raised an eyebrow, suspicious, but I didn't stop him. "Fine. Fix the ones I marked." 

Boe smirked slightly, like he found this whole thing funny, and got to work. 

A few minutes later, he slid the paper back toward me. "Here."

I checked his answers. 

…He somehow got even more wrong than before. 

I blinked. Then blinked again. 

"You seriously got worse?" I stared at him. "How is that even possible?" 

Boe clicked his tongue feigning disappointment. "Damn. Guess I really do suck at math." 

I wasn't buying it. 

My eyes narrowed as I looked at him again, and that's when I noticed the slight twitch at the corner of his lips—the way his fingers drummed against the table like he was holding back a laugh. 

My grip on the pen tightened.

"You're doing this on purpose." 

Boe gasped, all fake innocence. "I would never.." 

I exhaled through my nose, forcing myself to stay calm. "You do realize I'm here to help you, right?" 

"Yeah, yeah." He waved a hand. "And I'm helping you be patient. We're learning from each other." 

I stared at him. "I'm going to murder you." 

"Wow. That's no way to treat your student." 

I dragged a hand down my face. "You are the most annoying person I've ever met." 

Boe smirked. "And you're the most obnoxious person I've ever met."

I sighed, pushing the worksheet back at him. "Fix them again. And this time, actually try." 

"Ugh. Fine." He rolled his eyes but picked up the pencil anyway.

His phone buzzed again

He stiffened. 

I saw his fingers tighten around the pencil, his gaze flickering to the screen before quickly looking away. The teasing expression was gone, replaced by something I couldn't quite place.

I should've ignored it. I wanted to ignore it. But something about the way he tensed made me speak. 

"Are you okay?"

Boe's head snapped up. "What?"

I gestured at his phone. "You keep looking at it like it's about to explode." 

His lips slightly parted like he hadn't realized he was doing it. Then, in the next second, his usual smirk was back. "What, worried about me?" 

I rolled my eyes. "Not really."

He grinned, but I saw the way his fingers curled slightly inward like he was trying to stop his hands from shaking. 

Not my problem. 

I forced my attention back to the worksheet. "Hurry up and finish this. I'm not wasting my entire afternoon on you."