"Izzy, wake up," a muffled voice called from my door.

I groaned and rolled over, blocking out the light that was now turned on. "No, go away."

"If I have to go to school, then so do you," the voice said. For the fact that Max didn't have school for another an hour, I knew it had to be Alec.

"Alec, don't make me," I complained.

Piercing light blinded me as the blanket was stripped away. "I told you to get up. I don't want to be this rude in the morning, but I hate school just as much as you do. Now get up or I'm going to get the bucket." Images of the water bucket that Alec kept in his room lit up the inside of my eyelids. My legs flung over the edge of the bed and guided me to my closet.

"Hey we'll even stop at Starbucks on the way, if that's good with you," Alec called again.

I traveled to the back of my walk in closet to where I kept pants and sweaters. I found a pair of light washed jeans and shrugged them on. "Mom's gonna let you drive me? That's uncharacteristically nice of her." I grabbed a random sweater and scarf and threw both on as well.

"Don't be mean."

"I'm not mean," I snatched a pair of brown boots on my way out. "Just saying what we already know."

"Doesn't make it any better." He popped his head back into the room, a toothbrush in his mouth. "And anyhow, she doesn't need to know."

"Then how will I say I got to school?"

He jingled dad's car keys from the doorway. I thanked the heavens that dad wasn't as strict as mom.

Alec dropped me off in the parking lot so I could catch up with Clary easier.

Her eyes lit up as I handed her the large latte. "I ditched our study date and you bring me coffee the next day anyway? Either this is some reverse psychology shit or you just really love me."

"Come on," I lurched toward the building. "Yes, I'm angry, but I'm not that much of a bitch to not bring you coffee. I know that you need caffeine to function."

She took a sip and hummed into in. "So how did it go? I know you weren't really looking forward to working with somebody new. Did it all work out?"

I didn't let myself think about yesterday. "Fine. It went fine. They understood what I taught them, I did my job. Although I have to admit, tutoring you is a thousand times better."

"Who was it?" she asked as we pushed into the school. My fingers tingled as the warm air thawed them. It's October twenty eighth and the weather is proving to be too much for me already. By the time it's actually snowing I think I'll be an icicle.

"No one important," I answered as we approached the office. "Hey, I need to hand in the tutor sheet can you wait for me."

She nodded into the cardboard cup.

I stepped into the room and smiled at Mrs. Roberts. She held up one finger as she finished talking to the student in front of her. I recognized the '08' on the back of the jersey.

My heart rate picked up, pounding faster than a racehorse. I shut my eyes tightly. Calm down. Take a deep breath and count to three. Simon Lewis will not make your heart beat irregularly. You will not give him the power, okay? One… two…

"Isabelle?" Simon Lewis' voice asked from a distance much closer than I would have liked.

Why me. Why me?

I opened my eyes to see none other than the football captain himself. I waved a quick hi and took the necessary step to Mrs. Roberts' desk.

"I have my tutor sheet to hand in." I held the paper out to her that I had retrieved from my bag.

"I'd hang onto that actually. You were requested to tutor someone." She looked over my shoulder.

"Told ya that you couldn't get rid of me that easily," Simon Lewis snickered.

The groan that I intended to be internal exploded out of my throat, leaving the air rigid. I stomped back into the hallway to Clary.

"I can't believe he requested me," I screamed. "What an ass! Didn't he see that I was uncomfortable? Why didn't he understand that I didn't want to be there? I'm the salutatorian; of course they wouldn't not use me if they were asked. The thing is, nobody ever asks." I slumped into the closest chair. "Why is this happening to me?"

Mrs. Garroway rolled her eyes in my direction. "In all my years I have never seen such a dramatic personality swap in one of my students."

"I'm completely fine," I mumbled. "And I am not being over dramatic."

"I didn't say you were. But it's nice to know you see it too," she laughed.

I huffed out a sigh. I had dreaded post session all day. Clary had tried to cheer me up, even though I wouldn't tell her what was wrong.

"It's just another tutor session," she had said. "Just imagine that it's me."

If only it was that simple, I had thought.

What I'm still thinking…

My body told me that, from a scientific perspective, I'm attracted to Simon Lewis. But the way that I was reacting to him didn't make sense to me. I didn't like him in anyway whatsoever.

I had to keep reminding myself that I'm at the peak of my high school career and I couldn't afford any kind of distraction. Not now. But thinking about him still sent butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

When he walked into the classroom alone, I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath. I do not like Simon Lewis. I am not attracted to him. This is the last tutoring session we will have, and then I will be done with this boy forever, I vowed.

And to my surprise as he looked at me, I felt no misplaced heartbeat, no sweat, no nervousness. No, nothing. It was as if yesterday didn't happen.

It must have been the initial shock of seeing him for the first time in years, I told myself.

Either way, I felt overwhelming relief.

"Hello there." He had a smug smile on his face as he fell into the chair next to mine.

"Hi," I said stubbornly. Even if this so called "crush crisis" seemed to be over I couldn't get past my bitterness toward him.

"I told you they wouldn't say no."

"I think it's stupid that I can't deny the request. Just because you want me doesn't mean that I have the time or the motivation for you." My face warmed as I realized the double meaning behind my words.

He turned away to pull out his homework. In that brief second before his body was completely spun around, I caught a glimpse of what I thought was a slight tinge of pink across the tops of his cheekbones. But I was probably wrong. It was probably just my mind playing tricks on me.

He scoffed. "Now, I feel bad."

"Whatever," I answered just as bitterly as my hello.

Simon Lewis started the worksheet after the silence became too much for him. He had the first three done by the time I answered the second.

"Do you even need my help?" I hissed as Ms. Garroway pushed away from her desk to answer the phone.

"I understand what we did yesterday, but I have something different today and it features the thing from yesterday. So I understand it up to there."

"Plug everything in," I answered unhelpfully. "And I checked in with your teacher and found out that the things that she's been giving me aren't even what you're doing in class. You did this stuff a few weeks ago."

"The work we did yesterday was a homework that I didn't do, so it's not completely useless."

"Well, is there anything that you're doing now that you don't understand?"

"Of course," he said as if it was the most obvious answer. "I was told that if I didn't get my grade up I'd flunk out of the class."

"Then why don't we work on one of those topics?" I tried gentling my voice. "Homework grades are important, sure, but you need to do well on tests. Unfortunately this isn't science or English where doing labs and projects can keep you afloat. Tests and quizzes make all the difference in math."

He hesitantly nodded. "Okay."

I peered over to Ms. Garroway who spoke into the phone in a rush. Her eyebrows pulled together in worry as her finger tangled with the twisted phone cord.

"You know?" Simon Lewis concluded.

I looked at him, disoriented. "Sorry. Again?" I sheepishly grinned.

"I said," he chuckled into the air, "that I'm usually good at everything individually. It just sucks when she quizzes four or five things at a time. I never remember how to do everything except like the two latest sections."

"Sounds like you need to study," I giggled.

"For math?" He looked at me like I had four heads. "That's like saying you have to study for the SATs."

I crossed my arms over my chest, looking at him the exact same way he was looking at me. "You don't study for the SATs?"

"No? Who does? My parents might have been able to get me into that ridiculous night class last year, but I still only ended up getting a 1320 in June. Right then and there I decided that I was a lost cause. Standardized testing is just not my thing."

I thought back to my first SAT and blushed at the memory. It was completely mortifying. But before I could think about what I was doing I shifted in my seat so that I was facing him. "I'll let you in on a little secret about the first time I took my SAT."

He mimicked my posture and said, "Do tell."

I felt the discomforting recollection shift to the front of my memory bank. "It was sophomore year and I was –"

"You took your SATs sophomore year?" he commented, cutting me off mid sentence.

"No interrupting. But yes. You have to realize my parents push for academic perfection. They signed me up for the June SAT my sophomore year in case I did poorly, which I did, that way I'd have all summer to study."

"You study over the summer? You actually do school related things over the summer?"

I sighed at his cluelessness. At least Clary understood.

"I was in a room filled with nervous juniors all hoping for the highest score they were capable of getting and I sat there confident that I would smoke them all. I was bright, but I didn't study and I crashed and burned as a result."

"Crashed and burned how?"

I looked down at my lap. "1240."

My mother and I were the only ones who knew the awful score that I had gotten. I had never told anyone about it, not even Clary. Why I told Simon Lewis was beyond me.

But when I looked up he didn't make me feel self conscious; in fact, his smile was infectious.

"You're telling me that I did better on my first SAT compared to you?" he laughed.

Though I was still smiling, the embarrassment continued to redden my cheeks. "It was two years ago," I tried to argue.

"But I still did better. I have something over Isabelle Lightwood. What a remarkable power to have."

"Guys." Ms. Garroway stepped back into the classroom. "I have to get going. Something's happened at home. Isabelle I'll leave you my key, please do not feel pressured to leave yet, you still have ten minutes before post session is over. Just lock up and return the key to me tomorrow. Thanks. And I'm so, so sorry." She exited the room continuing to spout out apologies.

I couldn't help but smile at her kookiness. She used to be the same way in Geometry though.

It was hard freshman year adjusting to the new building, and I somehow always ended up in room 136 for lunch. The crazy teacher welcomed me during her free period and over time I became friends with the most hated Geometry teacher in the building.

She was an incredible teacher and by seeing her twice a day my GPA strived. Freshman year was when everyone started calling me a teacher's pet. I think it was because of Ms. Garroway.

"You space out a lot, don't you?" Simon Lewis broke me out of my reverie.

I shrugged guiltily. "I don't mean it, honestly. I was taking a trip down memory lane."

"So back to the SATs," he set his pen down and leaned on his hand. "How'd you do the next time you took them? How many times have you taken them?"

"After the summer of studying nonstop, I pumped that test score up to a 2060." I couldn't figure out why I was still talking.

"That's insane."

"And I've taken them nine times, by the way. Next Saturday will be lucky number ten."

Simon Lewis' eyes nearly fell out of his head. "Don'cha realize that that's like," he counted on his fingers, "so many hours taking that stupid test? You're never going to get that time back."

I shrugged. "I haven't gotten my score yet. I'm literally sixty points away from the goal."

"And the goal is what, exactly?"

"2300," I said proudly. "I'm so close it actually hurts."

He seemed to be at a loss of words. "You're like really smart, aren't you?"

"Most likely the salutatorian of our class, so yeah I guess."

He put his face in his hands. "I got the fact that you were smart. You're on Grad, and the office ladies all know you, but Jesus I didn't think you were that freaking smart."

"Thank you?" I wasn't sure how to interpret his words.

"What do you want to do with your life? Like what do you want to be?" He seemed to talk with his hands a lot when he didn't know how to grasp something.

"I want to be a teacher," I confessed. "Preferably a professor, actually. I'm gonna get my PhD in physics."

"Physics, really?"

I nodded.

"You don't strike me as a physics girl."

"Well I am. And I'm pretty damn good at it too, if I do say so myself."

"And where exactly do you want to get this PhD in physics?"

"Princeton University is the dream," I sighed. "To be a Tiger and follow in the footsteps of my mother. It's always been the plan. They have the best physics program in the U.S.," I added.

All of a sudden I got an overwhelming feeling of self centeredness. I didn't want to talk to Simon Lewis about all the ways that I was going to succeed in life. I didn't want to talk about me anymore, so I tried to reverse the conversation. "But what about you? What's your dream school?"

This time, he looked down toward the tiles. "I kinda don't have a dream college."

"Okay, you don't have a reach school, that's fine. Not everyone has one. Sometimes the school you want to go to is within their grasp. Where do you want to go?"

"I don't know," he said uncomfortably.

"Do you not want to go to college?" The concept of not going to college was a complete and utter mystery to me. I knew that people didn't go, but I had never thought of anything else for myself.

"Sure I want to go. But I'm not smart enough to get into a fancy university. I can't even get a good SAT score. I'll probably stay here and go to community college like all the other morons in this place."

"I don't understand why people nowadays are so opposed to community college," I stated while looking at my nails. The dark polish was beginning to chip. "What's not to like about it? It's cheaper, you can stay at home, no large debts, no loans, and the stress is miniscule compared to a big university. I mean if it were possible, I'd stay here." He didn't answer. "Is your GPA what you're really worried about?" Again, no response out of him. "It can't be that bad. What is it?"

He shrugged.

"You're being very helpful," I teased. "I want you to remember that I want to be a teacher and you not responding to me is frustrating. I'm not going to judge you. I'm not an ass."

He was timid but he eventually answered. "Whenever people start talking about college I blank out. I don't want to talk about it. It stresses me out to even think about applying and going. I can't even handle my school work here, how in the world am I supposed to be good at college?" When he spoke the words came out low and throaty. It made my muscles feel like jell-o.

"Believe it or not, but not every school is looking for students with 4.0 GPAs. Let's say you have an eighty. That would roughly translate to a 2.5, which is very doable."

"I don't have an eighty GPA," he mumbled.

"Okay." I thought of something else. "I know of schools that accept people with 1.5 GPAs. Simon Lewis, do not think for one second that you are a lost cause."

He gazed up at me through his thin glasses frames, his dark and thick eyelashes muddled my brain to the point that I almost forgot what I was arguing. "I have an eighty six."

I held the back of my hand to my mouth so a laugh wouldn't wiggle its way out of it. "You think that that GPA isn't substantial enough to get you into college?"

He shrugged again.

"Do you know what the average GPA for males in this country is? You probably don't, so I'll just tell you. It's 2.9. For females it's 3.1, which converts to an eighty six GPA."

"Are you telling me that I'm as smart as girls?"

"I'm telling you that you are not stupid. I hate that word. You are more than capable to go to any college you want to go to. I believe it wholeheartedly."

This time when he looked in my direction he didn't let his gaze fall. His brown eyes stayed locked with mine for far longer than what could be considered normal. It brought a fresh blush to my face.

"What are you looking for?" I said breathlessly.

"Hmm?" he hummed finally breaking the eye contact. It felt like steel chains were lifted off of me.

I readjusted the papers on my desk into a perfect pile. "You weren't just looking into my eyes. You were looking for an answer."

"It's nothing." He turned back to the worksheet on the desk.

There was a part of me that believed that it was more than nothing. A part of me wanted to get him away from this school, to get away from the stiff environment and the everlasting smell of chalk dust. The more rational part of me knew that that was a terrible idea.

Instead I brushed it to the side and took his nothing as nothing.

"So what do you recommend then?" Simon Lewis didn't look in my direction as he asked.

"For what?"

"The SATs. If you're so confident that I can get into a good school, even with my GPA, what can I do to get a higher score?"

"I would say to just buckle down and study for the test. That's all you gotta do."

He sighed. "I always thought everyone said it's impossible to study for the SATs."

"Well I can show you how," I offered. Only after I said it did I realized what I did.

"You would teach me how to get a good score?"

Wanting something is completely different than actually making it happen, I reminded myself. Do not make this happen.

"Sure. I mean, I helped out Clary and she got a 1910. She was ecstatic about it." If it were possible to roll your eyes at yourself I would have done it right then and there.

"And you wouldn't mind doing the same for me?" He finally looked in my direction.

I knew I should have said no, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I wanted to be a teacher after all and not helping someone, especially when I was surely qualified to help him get a higher score, seemed like an absolute misfortune.

"Absolutely not. We can set up study times. I usually go over Clary's or we come to my house, it doesn't matter to me. Or if you're uncomfortable with either one of those, we can stay here after hours and go to the library. During study halls is another good opportunity," I rambled on.

Simon Lewis looked shocked that I said yes. "During school is kinda difficult," he answered. "But after school would work. Football season is technically over, so next week I'll be free every day."

"Your house? My house? Where are we going?"

He shrugged. "I guess my place will work."

Although the silence that followed between us was light, a part of me felt heavy. I came in telling myself that this was the last time I would tutor this boy, and now I was planning daily study sessions with him. What was wrong with me?

But as we sat there saying nothing I listened harder to the surroundings and realized it was eerily quiet. No students laughing indoors or out. No sound of the buses running as the heat warmed their interiors. It was too quiet.

"You still have ten minutes before post session is over," Ms. Garroway had said.

Ten minutes.

I dreaded to look down at my watch to find out the time. But against all the trembling that began in my stomach I glanced down to the rose gold watch on my wrist and found that my suspicions had been correct.

3:26.

"Shit." I jumped out of my seat and started shoving everything into my backpack.

"What happened?" He looked startled at my sudden commotion.

"The bus left twenty minutes ago. There is no way I'm getting home before my mother."

Simon Lewis got up and started shuffling all his things together as well. "What time does your mom get home?"

"Four. And she doesn't deal with tardiness."

"Can't you just say that you stayed late tutoring someone?"

"If that someone was Clary there wouldn't be a problem. But because you're very much a male, I will be murdered."

"What if you can get home before she does?" He looked down at his watch.

I threw my hands in the air. "It's too long of a walk to get there in the next thirty minutes." Scooping up my things I head out the door, locking it behind me. I whipped out my phone and texted Alec. Where are you? I need you.

"I'm already late to practice, let me drive you home," Simon Lewis said from behind me. "This is all on me anyway."

"If my mom found out that you drove me home she'd throw a fit. She doesn't even like my older brother driving me places."

"Then she doesn't need to know." An image of Alec in his pajamas at my bedroom door this morning came and went. He had said the same thing to me this morning.

I spun around toward him. My backpack fell from my shoulder into the crook of my elbow. "Why?"

"Why what?" He couldn't make sense of why I stopped walking.

"Why are you offering me a ride home? Why not just let me get home late and let me suffer?"

Simon Lewis shook his head as he said, "Because you don't deserve a punishment for getting home late; especially if it's because you're tutoring someone. Come on," he nodded his head toward the exit. "If we run to the parking lot we can get there in two minutes. How long does it take you to get to your house?"

"About ten."

I was getting in a car with Simon Lewis. He was driving me home. This wasn't happening. This wasn't happening.

"We can make it." He took off in a run while I took a moment and stared at him in amazement.

Even though my insides burned with rage at the thought of liking Simon Lewis, I knew I needed his help just this once. Let him drive you home. You have nothing to lose. It's not like you can get rid of him now.

I laughed at the thought. I can't get rid of him. Not yet.

I ran after Simon Lewis, moving my feet faster than I had ever moved them before.

A/N: I haven't updated in like 3 weeks, oops. My Thanksgiving break was supposed to be reading, writing, and more reading and writing. And it kinda ended up being eating, Gossip Girl, and brutally damaging my sleep schedule. I have the next four chapters planned out completely so I'm hoping that I can get those out super fast. Sorry for the delay for this chapter that isn't even that great. xoxo

** I made a blog for this fanfiction that will have updates about where I got inspiration for things. I would greatly appreciate it if you'd check it out.
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