Page 22 of The Girlfriend Goal
"Yeah."
We sat in comfortable silence, the library's fluorescent lights humming overhead. It was the most honest conversation we'd ever had, stripped of banter and defensive walls.
"So," Lance said eventually, "think you could help me catch up? I can pay you for tutoring—"
"I'm not taking your money."
"Then what do you want?"
I considered. "Come to all the community center sessions. Not just the required ones. Those kids need consistency, and Marcus specifically needs you."
"Done. What else?"
"Get tested at the learning center. Just the testing. You don't have to use the accommodations if you don't want to. But at least know what you're dealing with."
He drummed his fingers again, that nervous rhythm I was starting to recognize. "Fine. Testing. But if anyone finds out—"
"They won't from me." I reopened my laptop. "Now, chapter seven covers performance anxiety. Want to keep going?"
"It's past midnight. Don't you have morning practice?"
"Don't you?"
"Touché." He grinned, and I noticed how it transformed his face when it was genuine instead of performative.
Twenty minutes later, armed with terrible coffee and stale cookies from the vending machine, we dove back into the material.
I saved our notes to the shared drive. "Same time Thursday?"
"You'd do this again?"
The vulnerability in his voice made me look up. "Yeah, if you want."
"I do." He started packing up, then stopped. "Walk you to your car?"
"I can walk myself."
"I know you can. But it's late, campus is empty, and my mom would murder me if she found out I let you walk alone."
"Your mom would never know."
"My mom knows everything. It's terrifying." He held the door open. "Come on. Let me pretend to be a gentleman for five minutes."
I gathered my things, hyperaware of him waiting. This felt dangerously close to something other than study partners. But the campus was empty, and despite my bravado, I didn't love walking alone at night.
"Fine. But no weird chivalry stuff. I can open my own doors."
"Noted."
We walked in comfortable silence across the quiet campus. The air bit through my jacket, making me shiver.
"Cold?" He started to shrug off his hockey jacket.
"I said no chivalry."
"It's not chivalry. It's basic human decency. Also, if you catch pneumonia, who's going to explain chapter eight to me?"
"Self-serving kindness. I can respect that." But I waved off the jacket anyway. "We're almost there."
