Asher couldn't concentrate on anything for the rest of the day.
Kael Everhart asked for my number. Kael Everhart wants me to tutor him.
He kept replaying the moment in his head—the way Kael had smiled at him, the warmth of his hand, the genuine interest in those dark eyes. It felt like a dream. Like he'd wake up any moment and realize it never happened.
"Earth to Asher!"
He jolted, nearly dropping his lunch tray. His best friend—his only friend, really—Elliot Park stood beside him with an exasperated expression.
"Sorry," Asher mumbled, following Elliot to their usual table in the far corner of the cafeteria. The table no one else wanted because it was right next to the trash bins.
Elliot was a mer, but not the typical Silvercrest type. He was lean rather than muscular, preferred coding to sports, and wore his hair in a messy bun that broke at least three dress code rules. His family owned a small bookstore in town—comfortable, but nothing compared to the wealth that surrounded them at school.
"You've been spacing out all day," Elliot observed, biting into his sandwich. "What's going on?"
Asher hesitated. "Nothing. Just... tired."
"Liar." Elliot's eyes narrowed. "You have that look."
"What look?"
"That 'something happened but I'm too shy to talk about it' look. Spill."
Asher's face heated. He poked at his salad—homemade, because cafeteria food was expensive. "Kael Everhart talked to me."
Elliot choked on his sandwich. "What?"
"He asked me to tutor him. In AP Lit."
"What?!"
"Stop saying what!"
"I'll stop saying what when you stop saying insane things!" Elliot leaned forward, eyes wide. "Kael Everhart—Mr. Two Million Followers, Too Cool For School, Basketball God Everhart—asked you to tutor him?"
"You don't have to sound so shocked," Asher muttered.
"Ash, I love you, but you have to admit this is weird. That guy doesn't even acknowledge people exist unless they're equally famous or incredibly hot."
"Maybe he actually wants help with literature?"
Elliot gave him a look. "And maybe I'm going to wake up tomorrow as the king of England. Come on, Ash. Use that brilliant brain of yours. What does Kael Everhart want with you?"
The question hurt more than it should have. Because Elliot was right—it didn't make sense. People like Kael didn't notice people like Asher. They existed in parallel universes that occasionally occupied the same building.
"I don't know," Asher admitted quietly. "But he seemed... nice?"
"Nice." Elliot's tone was flat. "Kael Everhart was nice to you."
"Why is that so hard to believe?"
"Because I've been going to school with that guy since freshman year, and I've never seen him be genuinely nice to anyone who couldn't do something for him." Elliot softened, reaching across the table to squeeze Asher's hand. "Look, I'm not trying to be mean. I just... I don't want you to get hurt."
"I'm just tutoring him, El. It's not a big deal."
"Right. Tutoring. That's all."
But even as Asher said it, he could feel the flutter in his chest. The tiny, dangerous spark of hope that maybe—just maybe—this could be something more.
Don't be stupid, he told himself. He's Kael Everhart. You're nobody.
Still, when his phone buzzed with a text from Kael confirming their meeting tomorrow, Asher couldn't help but smile.
Elliot noticed. "Oh no. You're already gone, aren't you?"
"Shut up."
"You're already imagining your wedding."
"I am not!" But Asher's face burned crimson.
"What are your children's names? Let me guess—something pretentious like Sebastian and Anastasia?"
"Elliot!"
"I'm just saying, when this inevitably goes wrong, I reserve the right to say I told you so."
"Noted." Asher tried to sound annoyed, but he was smiling.
The next day, Asher arrived at the library fifteen minutes early.
He'd changed outfits three times that morning—which was ridiculous because he only owned like five acceptable outfits anyway. He'd settled on a soft blue sweater that his mer dad said brought out his eyes, his normal slacks, and his everyday glasses because his contacts irritated his eyes.
This is just tutoring, he reminded himself, setting up at a table in the far corner. Professional. Educational. Nothing more.
He spread out his materials—notes, textbooks, highlighters color-coded by theme.
Four o'clock came and went.
4:05.
4:10.
He's not coming. Of course he's not coming. This was probably just a joke. Tomorrow everyone will be laughing about how the nerd actually thought—
"Sorry I'm late!"
Asher's head snapped up. Kael jogged over, still in his basketball practice clothes—athletic shorts that showed off powerful legs, a tank top that clung to his muscular frame, hair damp with sweat. He looked like he'd stepped out of a sports magazine.
And every head in the library turned to watch.
"Practice ran over," Kael explained, dropping into the chair across from Asher. "Coach is killing us this season."
"It's... it's fine." Asher tried not to stare at the way Kael's shirt stuck to his abs. Professional. Be professional.
"Give me two seconds to clean up?" Kael pulled out a towel, wiping the sweat from his face and neck.
Asher nodded mutely, very aware of the whispers starting around them.
"Is that Kael Everhart?"
"What's he doing with the scholarship kid?"
"Oh my god, get a picture!"
Kael seemed completely oblivious to the attention. Or maybe he was just used to it. He finished cleaning up, then leaned forward with a smile that made Asher's heart skip.
"Okay. Teach me, professor."
Asher's hands trembled slightly as he opened the textbook. "So, um, what specifically are you struggling with?"
"Honestly? All of it." Kael's expression was sheepish. "I just don't get the whole 'deeper meaning' thing. Like, why can't the author just say what they mean?"
"Well, literature is about showing, not telling. The symbolism adds layers—"
"See, I'm already lost."
Asher bit his lip, thinking. "Okay. Let's try something different. What's your favorite movie?"
Kael blinked. "Uh... I don't know. Maybe that racing movie? The one with the—"
"Velocity Kings?"
"Yeah! That one."
"Okay. Remember the scene where the main character looks at his father's old racing helmet before the final race?"
"Yeah?"
"That's symbolism. The helmet represents his father's legacy, the pressure he feels, his fear of failure. The director could have had another character say all that out loud, but showing it through the helmet is more powerful. It makes you feel it instead of just hearing it."
Kael's eyes lit up. "Oh. Oh. That actually makes sense."
"Really?" Asher felt a flutter of pride.
"You're a really good teacher, you know that?"
The compliment hit Asher like a physical thing. He ducked his head, embarrassed. "Thanks. So if we apply that to what we're reading in class—The Great Gatsby—the green light at the end of Daisy's dock isn't just a light. It's—"
"His dream. The future he's chasing that he can never actually reach." Kael looked genuinely excited. "Because even if he gets Daisy, she's not the same person he built up in his head."
"Exactly!" Asher couldn't contain his enthusiasm. "And the eyes of Doctor T.J. Eckleburg—"
"The eyes of God watching everyone's moral decay?"
"Yes!"
They grinned at each other, and for a moment, the rest of the library faded away. It was just the two of them, connecting over literature in a way that felt... natural.
"You know," Kael said slowly, "I think I've been approaching this all wrong. I kept thinking it was boring because I wasn't getting it. But the way you explain it..."
"What?"
"It actually makes me want to read more."
Asher's heart did a complicated flip. "Really?"
"Really." Kael's smile was soft, genuine. "You make it interesting."
They worked for another hour, going through chapters and discussing themes. Kael asked thoughtful questions. Asher found himself relaxing, getting animated as he explained his favorite passages.
At one point, Asher was leaning over the book, pointing out a particular line, and he realized how close they were. Close enough that he could smell Kael's cologne—something expensive and woody.
Kael was staring at him.
"What?" Asher asked nervously.
"Nothing. I just..." Kael's voice was quieter than before. "You're really passionate about this stuff, aren't you?"
"Is that bad?"
"No. It's..." Kael seemed to struggle for words. "It's refreshing. Most people I know don't care about anything that doesn't get them followers or money."
"What do you care about?" The question slipped out before Asher could stop it.
Kael leaned back, something complicated crossing his face. "Honestly? I don't know anymore. Basketball, I guess. My parents care about the brand, the image. My friends care about parties and status. Sometimes I feel like I'm just going through the motions, you know?"
"That sounds lonely," Asher said softly.
"Yeah." Kael's eyes met his. "It is."
The moment stretched between them, fragile and important. Asher wanted to say something profound, something that would matter, but his mind went blank.
The spell broke when Kael's phone buzzed. He glanced at it and sighed.
"I should probably go. My mom's doing a live stream dinner thing and I'm supposed to be there for 'family content.'" He made air quotes, rolling his eyes.
"Oh. Of course." Asher started gathering his materials.
"Same time next week?"
"Sure. If you want."
"I want." Kael stood, slinging his gym bag over his shoulder. Then he did something unexpected—he reached out and gently tugged on Asher's sweater sleeve. "Thanks, Asher. For real."
"You're welcome," Asher managed.
He watched Kael walk away, dozens of eyes following his path. But just before he reached the door, Kael turned back and waved.
Asher waved back, feeling ridiculous and giddy all at once.
"Oh, you are so screwed."
Asher jumped. Elliot materialized from behind a bookshelf, looking concerned.
"How long have you been there?"
"Long enough to watch you fall halfway in love with someone who's way out of your league." Elliot sat down heavily. "Ash, I'm serious. Be careful."
"You're being paranoid. We just studied."
"Right. And he just happened to get all vulnerable and emotional. Classic player move."
"Maybe he was being genuine!"
"And maybe I'm the tooth fairy." Elliot's expression softened. "Look, I hope I'm wrong. I really do. But guys like Kael don't suddenly discover their sensitive side with guys like us. They have ulterior motives."
"Not everyone is playing games, El."
"No. But in my experience? The popular ones usually are."
Asher wanted to argue. Wanted to defend Kael, to insist that what they'd just shared was real.
But doubt crept in anyway.
What does Kael Everhart want with me?
He didn't have an answer.
And that terrified him more than he wanted to admit.
Meanwhile, across campus, Kael sat in his car, staring at nothing.
His phone was blowing up with messages from Jax and River wanting updates. But he couldn't bring himself to respond.
Talking to Asher felt... good. Easy. The fer didn't expect anything from him except honesty. Didn't care about his follower count or his family name. Just listened, engaged, made him think about things beyond the superficial.
And when Asher had smiled—really smiled, eyes crinkling behind his glasses—Kael had felt warm glow in his chest.
This is just a bet, he reminded himself.
But his hands were shaking.
Finally, he pulled out his phone and typed a message.
KAEL: Got his trust. This is going to be easier than expected.
The lie tasted bitter.
JAX: Excellent. Keep us posted.
RIVER: Don't get soft on us now.
KAEL: Never.
Another lie.
Kael drove home in silence, Asher's earnest face haunting his thoughts.
Just a bet. Just a stupid bet.
So why did it already feel like he was the one being played?
Author's Note: The tutoring sessions are going to be the death of me 😭 Kael is catching feelings FAST and doesn't want to admit it. Elliot is the real MVP trying to protect our baby Asher. What do you think—is Kael already in too deep? Comment below! Next chapter: their first "date" 👀 -AzureSkies