Maya stood in the campus bookstore, staring at the shelf of required textbooks.
Organic Chemistry, 5th Edition.
The book stared back at her—the new edition was priced at $189.99. Even the used copy was marked at $142.50, it was all too expensive.
She pulled out her phone and opened her banking app. The little spinning circle appeared while it loaded. When the numbers finally came up, they confirmed what she already knew.
Total Balance: $312.67.
She ran the numbers in her head. Her meal plan was down to a handful of swipes until the next reload. Phone bill hitting in a few days which was around sixty bucks. Plus the random stuff adding up, the ten she still owed Elena for that late-night pizza.
After all that, she'd be cutting it too close. Barely enough for the used book.
Maya slipped her phone into her pocket and kept staring at the shelf. Her mind drifted, going through different options, maybe she could wait for a cheaper copy online,hit up the library reserve and fight for time slots, maybe sell some old clothes on the campus app. Anything but ask for more help.
She thought about the phone call with her mom few days ago.
The pipe burst again," her mom had said, voice tired. "Your dad already patched it up, but I think it needs serious fixing."
Maya had asked anyway. "How much for a real fix?"
"We got it, mija. You just focus on school."
How could she focus on school.
She turned and walked out without the book.
The walk back to her dorm was cold. October had arrived with an Oregon chill, Maya pulled her hoodie tighter against the wind. Around her, students moved in clusters, laughing. A girl passed wearing a Canada Goose jacket.
By the time she got to Spruce Hall, her cheeks were numb. She climbed the stairs two at a time ,then keyed into her room, letting herself in.
Maya pushed the door shut behind her and let her backpack slide off her shoulder onto the floor, then sat on the edge of her bed.
Elena looked up from her laptop. "Hey! How'd it go at the bookstore?"
"I didn't accomplish anything."
Elena's smile faded. "Wait, you didn't get the O-Chem book?"
Maya shook her head.
"But the midterm's coming up. You need that thing."
"I know." Maya's voice came out harsher than she meant. "I just can't swing it right now."
Elena went still. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. The room suddenly felt smaller.
"Maya, if you need—"
"No." Maya cut her off, She rubbed her palms on her jeans. "I'm good. I'll find a way. And besides I still owe you for the other day."
Elena hesitated, shifting on her bed. "It's not a big deal. Really, I can just—"
"I said I'm good." She replied firmly.
Elena nodded slowly, she popped her AirPod back in and looked back at her laptop, but Maya caught the quick glances she kept throwing over the screen.
Maya flopped back against her pillow and stared up at the ceiling. The silence stretched thick and uncomfortable, broken only by the faint beat leaking from Elena's AirPod.
Her phone lit up on the desk, it was her Mom.
How's school going, mija? Are you eating well?
Maya's thumb hovered over the screen for a second, then she typed quickly before she could overthink it.
Everything's good. Yeah, eating tons. Don't worry.
Send.
The little lies slid out smoothly.
She tossed the phone aside and pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. The room felt too quiet, with Elena's music just a faint hum from the other bed.
Her mind circled back to that damn email. Study group leader: Maya Alvarez. And there, tucked in the list like a bad joke—Jake Thompson.
---
**Jake's POV**
Jake found her the next day in the library on the third floor tucked into a corner carrel. Her laptop was open and she was scribbling in her notebook, earbuds in, head bent dow.
For a moment, Jake just stood there.
She was completely absorbed, her guard down. Her hair was in a messy braid and she wore a plain gray sweatshirt and jeans.
Jake cleared his throat.
She jumped, yanking out her earbuds and spinning around. When she saw him, her face shut down immediately.
"Thompson."
"Alvarez." He tried for a smile. "Got a minute?"
"For what?"
"To talk. About the study group."
She glanced at her laptop, then at him. "The first meeting isn't until Wednesday. Dr. Monroe sent the schedule."
"Yeah, I know, but I wanted to—" He stopped, running a hand through his hair.
"Look, can we just talk? Somewhere private?"
Her eyes narrowed. "Why?"
"Because I don't want the whole library hearing this, Alvarez."
She stared at him for a moment longer, then stood up and grabbed her phone and ID. "Fine. You've got five minutes."
She led him to a small study room with a table and four chairs. The door had a narrow window, which Maya left open.
Jake took notice of that.
He sat down, but she didn't. She stood by the door, arms crossed.
"Thank you," Jake said. He looked different up close, less put together. His hair was still damp from practice.
"You said you wanted to talk about the study group. So talk."
Jake reached into his pocket and pulled out a roll of cash, then set it on the table between them. Crisp bills held together with a rubber band.
"Fifty dollars an hour. However many sessions you can fit into your schedule. I'll work around you."
Maya stared at the money, then at him.
"Are you serious right now?" she sneered in disgust.
Jake blinked. "I—yeah? I know your time is valuable—"
"So you thought you'd just throw money at me?" Her voice sharpened.
"No, that's not—"
"Because that's what this looks like, Thompson." She gestured at the cash, her hands shaking. "You walk in here, put money on the table like you're ordering off a menu, and you expect me to do what?" She let out a short, bitter laugh. "Jump at the chance to help the struggling quarterback?"
"Maya—"
"I'm not for sale." She grabbed her backpack, slung it over her shoulder. "Find someone else to fix your GPA problem."
"Wait." It came out as a plea.
Maya's hand froze on the door handle, but didn't turn.
"You're right," Jake said, his usual swagger gone. "That came out all wrong. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to throw money at you like that."
Maya turned slowly. Jake was still sitting, but he was folded in on himself—elbows on the table, hands in his hair, eyes fixed on the scattered cash between them.
He let out a humorless laugh. "I'm not great at this. Asking for help feels like admitting defeat."
Maya stayed by the door, arms crossed.
"Coach pulled me in yesterday," he went on. "Told me straight—if I don't turn this class around by midterms, I'm off the team. No more starting QB."
He finally glanced up, jaw tight, but something flickered there before he covered it with a shrug. "I sit in Monroe's lectures and it's all noise. I read the chapters and nothing sticks. You, though—you get it without trying. Makes the rest of us look like idiots."
He nodded toward the cash on the table. "The money wasn't me trying to buy you off. I just figured... why the hell would someone like you bother with a guy like me? Thought it'd make it fair. You help me out, and I make it worth your time."
Silence hung heavy.
Maya looked from the bills to his face—the cocky mask slipping.
She exhaled slowly. This wasn't the Jake she'd built in her head. Not entirely.
She thought about walking out.
But.
That look on his face, the desperation was familiar because she'd felt it herself. Different circumstances, but the same crushing weight of it all.
"One session," Maya said, surprising even herself. "It's going to be a trial run. You don't pay me upfront. You pay after. If I've actually taught you and you've learned something."
"Deal." Jake's relief was obvious. He hesitated. "And — look, I know Monroe's class is the main thing. But I'm also failing Calc, it's all just... Confusing. If tonight goes okay, would you maybe—"
"One thing at a time, Jake." Maya held up a hand. "Monroe's class first. If you show up prepared and you're actually trying, we can talk about adding Calc."
Jake nodded. "Fair enough. When–"
"Tonight. Seven PM. Here." Maya pointed at the floor. "Bring your textbook, your notes from the last two weeks. I'm not supposed to be reteaching stuff you should have covered but didn't because you were lazy."
"I'm not lazy," Jake said, an edge to his voice now.
"Prove it then." Maya cut him off. "Seven PM, Thompson. Don't be late."
She pushed through the door before he could say more, heart racing. What the hell was she doing?
Jake let out a slow breath.
He stuffed the cash back in his pocket and headed out, the library doors thumping shut behind him.
By the time he got to his dorm, his phone was going off, it was his father of course.
Jake answered his phone. "Hey, Dad."
"Jacob." His father's voice was cold. "I spoke with Coach Miller this morning. He tells me you're now in a remedial study group."
"It's not remedial. It's just—"
"Don't insult my intelligence.You're failing again, and now you're being babysat by a freshman. You understand how that looks?"
Jake closed his eyes. "I'm handling it."
"You better be. Because if you're not on that field by mid-season, You'll be home by Thanksgiving. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal."
The line went dead.
Jake sat on his bed, staring at his phone.
But at least now he had a plan.