Work Text:
Being a tutor isn't all bad. It's one of the less sucky jobs on campus. He gets paid a decent amount and has flexible hours. Hardly anyone utilizes the tutoring center here anyways. On a good day, he gets paid to sit and do homework. It's not the worst job he's ever had. After all, he could be working in dining. The mere thought makes him shiver.
He usually doesn't end up tutoring many people in a week. However, there's a certain blonde that's the exception. She's here week after week, studying for her statistics class. Yet no matter how much he tries to help her, she can't seem to learn anything – including his name.
But like his job, she's not all horrible. Sure, the first few weeks had been rough, and extremely frustrating. But then she had started bringing him coffee, and that led into them gossiping about other students on campus, and that led into – dare he say it? – enjoying her company.
If she doesn't pass her stats class? Well, he's done all he can do. That's on her.
_____________
"Oh my gosh, Nathan, you'll never believe what happened today!" The blonde comes rushing into the room, heeled boots clacking against the floor. There's two steaming cups of coffee from the school's café in her hands. She takes a seat next to him, shrugging her bag off her shoulder.
"It's Noah ," he corrects for what seems to be the thousandth time but takes the offered cup of coffee anyway.
He takes a sip. It’s sugary and sweet, way too much creamer than a normal person would usually use. He tried telling her once that a black coffee was fine, but she insisted that he was lying to himself. No one liked black coffee…this sickly sweet concoction isn’t terrible.
“Noah,” she repeats to herself, but he knows she’ll probably forget it in an hour again anyway. She begins digging through her backpack, pulling out her notebook and supplies. All her stationary is a bright, gaudy pink – coordinating from her highlighters to her sticky notes. It’s not like she ever uses the supplies other than to draw silly little doodles during her boring lectures.
“Well, I heard that Courtney’s boyfriend is totally cheating on her,” Lindsay shared, eyes wide. “With that one girl! Uh, what’s her name…Greta?”
“Gwen?” He supplies, though he can’t help but be curious himself. He rests his head in the palm of his hand, listening intently. That relationship was bound to crash eventually.
“Yes! Gwen!” She nods. “Tyler would never do that to me. It’s so against the girl-code. And, like, rude . That’s so boyfriend-kisser of her. Ugh, I can’t even imagine .”
He snorts, sitting up properly in the chair. If there’s anyone at this school who knows gossip, it’s Lindsay. Well, her and that one girl from the journalism department, but she was creepy and Lindsay is way more reliable. And less stalker-y.
“Alright, that’s enough of that,” he says, waving his hand. “You came here for your stats class. What are we studying today?”
“Um-” She pauses to flip through her notebook, skimming past pages covered in doodles of cats. “Proportions, I think? Something about intervals? I didn’t really get it when we covered it in class.”
He sighs to himself, glancing down at the brightly colored notes, more aesthetic than useful. He’s got a lot of work to do. “Confidence intervals? I can work with that. Get out your calculator. I can try and dumb it down.”
She smiles brightly at him before getting to work.
_____________
Lindsay passes her next stats test, just barely scraping by with a passing grade.
She doesn’t seem too upset by it. After all, she hadn’t failed. Noah has to give her credit for that. The previous tests, she hadn’t been so lucky.
Midterms have passed, and they’re slowly reaching the end of the semester. Lindsay’s teetering on the edge of passing. It doesn’t matter to him. He gets paid for doing his job, not how well she passes the class.
If she fails? Not his problem.
_____________
He lets out a frustrated sigh into his hands before dragging them down his face in exasperation. He looks over her latest worksheet, graded with angry red marks. There’s dozens of other worksheets just like this, failing letter grades circled harshly at the tops.
“I just-” Noah cuts himself off, staring at the sheets in disbelief. “Are you even trying ?”
The blonde comes here week after week, but it doesn’t show in the homework, pop quizzes, or exams. The bright red pen scrawled across her papers is proof of that. She doesn’t seem to pick up on any of the concepts, doesn’t apply any of what he’s teaching her. His head throbs at seeing the entirely wrong equation being scribbled onto some of the sheets.
“ I am! ” She cries out in disbelief.
“It doesn’t look like it,” he snaps, glaring at her.
She grows flustered, holding her head in her hands. “I am trying, I swear! I show up here, don’t I? I put in the work, and then I get to the exams, and nothing makes sense .”
“I don’t know what else I can do,” he tells her simply, rubbing at his temple. “I don’t think there’s anything else I can do. Look, you’re clearly just not getting it. Maybe there’s still time to drop the class-”
“No!” She shouts, standing up rather abruptly. Frustrated tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “I can’t! I can’t just drop this class. I have to pass it. If I don’t, then my dad will stop paying tuition, and I’ll have to drop out, and everyone will think I’m an idiot, just like Heather said, and-”
She collapses into her chair, sobbing. She covers her face with her hands, trying to hide the tears streaming down her cheeks.
Noah stares at her. He’s never seen her like this. He’s no good at comforting people either. His hand awkwardly hovers in the air as he debates on what to do. Chewing the inside of his cheek, he places a hand on her back.
“...Would it be all that bad?” He asks after a while when her sobs turn to sniffles.
It’s not like her family doesn’t have the money to support her. They’re filthy rich. She’d never have to work a day in her life if she didn’t want to. Is college really all that important to her?
Lindsay lets her hands drop to her sides. Her makeup is smeared, face wet and red. She avoids eye contact, nodding. “I-I wanted to go to college to prove I wasn’t stupid,” she murmurs, dabbing lightly at her eyes so her makeup won’t smear any further. “I want to be able to support myself, by myself. My dad doesn’t think I can, but he said he’ll pay tuition as long as I pass my classes, but if I don’t…I need to pass this, Noah.”
He goes still, not just because of her using his real name for once but because of how serious she is. He’d always seen her as another ditzy cheerleader, but the fact she actually wants to be here is new information. He contemplates his options. He could continue to do what he’s been doing, hoping she’ll miraculously pass the class. After all, he’ll get paid regardless. Or…
“Alright,” he says, then repeats himself a little more confidently. “Alright, you wanna pass? Then let’s get serious about this. I need you trying – full effort. One hundred and ten percent.”
She looks at him, eyes wide and hopeful. “...Really? You’re not giving up on me?”
It’s not going to be easy – for him or for her. But there’s still time in the semester to turn it around. There’s still time for her to make a passing grade. Fuck it. What’s he got to lose?
“Fine. We’ll just have to ‘Legally Blonde’ this shit.”
Lindsay gives him a look. He scrunches up his nose, staring back at her.
“What? You’ve never seen ‘Legally Blonde’ before?” He asks. It seemed right up her alley. “The sorority girl? Elle Woods?...You’re telling me you’ve never seen the movie?”
“No, I have,” Lindsay says, eyes blown wide in disbelief. “It’s just-" She pauses to giggle. "- you of all people have seen 'Legally Blonde'? You don't seem like the type."
His face grows red at the accusation. Of course he's seen the movie. He has eight older sisters – he was bound to see it eventually. That and he may have been dragged by his friends to a 'Legally Blonde' movie night at one of the residence halls, but that's not the point!
"It doesn't matter!" He stammers. He takes a second to compose himself before continuing. "Look, are we gonna do this or not?"
She grins, bright and cheery despite the drying tear tracks on her face. Before he knows it, she's throwing her arms around him, jumping up and down. " Thank you, thank you, thank you! "
"Alright, alright ." He pushes her away, squirming out of her hug. "Let's get to work then, yeah? I'm only clocked-in for another hour."
Lindsay sits back down, reorganizing her items and looking more determined than he's seen her in a long time. Okay then. Time to get to work.
_____________
For the next couple weeks, Lindsay can be found in the campus library. She can usually be spotted huddled up close to him, hunched over heaps of practice sheets and formula notes. She sticks her tongue out the side of her mouth in concentration as Noah grades paper after paper. Slowly but surely, the number of errors begin to decrease.
He's starting to think there might be a brain in that head of hers after all.
Noah's not sure when, but at some point the study sessions begin to stretch beyond his official tutoring hours. He's off the clock, working with her well past midnight some nights. There are times where she sits there with frustrated tears, and he's reminded of nights as a child spent at the kitchen table doing homework. Despite the struggles, the work starts to pay off.
She's comes into the library one afternoon, grinning from ear to ear. In her hands is her latest exam, a bright red B+ right at the top. In this moment, he thinks he feels something akin to pride.
_____________
"Please? Please, please, please, please- "
"If I say yes, will you let go of my arm?"
The blonde is quick to drop his arm, snapping straight to attention. She clasps her hands together in front of her, a glimmer of happiness in her bright blue eyes. She rocks back and forth on the balls of her heels, looking at him with a hopeful gaze.
"So you'll do it?" She asks him, and if he denies, he's worried her lower lip will start wobbling, and she'll pull out the waterworks. "You'll come to the game? Please, Noah. It'd mean a lot to me."
The end of the semester is quickly approaching. Students are scrambling to bring back up their grades. Lindsay is no exception. She's been with him night after night, but it does look like her grades have been improving. The end of the semester and fall months also mean the beginning of basketball season. It's not only busy for Lindsay, who sideline cheers for their shitty basketball team, but also her boyfriend, who plays on said shitty basketball team.
Look, Tyler's a good guy (though maybe a bit airheaded like his girlfriend), but he's no star athlete. He's clumsy and awkward when it comes to anything remotely athletic. Despite his love of sports, the jock isn't exactly the MVP of his team. But apparently he'd been doing well enough to land a spot in the next game, and Lindsay had insisted he come out and support him.
Noah has never claimed to be a sports guy, and he's not starting now. He'd rather spend his Saturday night at home, thank you very much. Maybe curled up with a book. Definitely not in a packed gym, surrounded by screaming, sweaty fans.
But now Lindsay's looking at him with those bright blue eyes of her, and her lower lip is beginning to curl downwards, and Noah is totally not going to listen to her pathetic sobs again-
"Fine," he relents, earning an immediate high-pitched squeal from her. "I'll go."
She wraps him in a quick hug. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! You won't regret it! I swear!"
He sure hopes not.
_____________
That Saturday, he finds himself in the school's gym. It's not the best quality gym he's ever seen – he's pretty sure he saw a rat run through the bleachers earlier, and one of the ceiling lights looks ready to fall. He, much to his dismay, finds himself sitting near the front where the cheerleaders are settled. Lindsay's face brightens upon seeing him, and she waves a shiny pom-pom in his direction.
He gives an awkward wave back.
Luckily for him, the gym's not terribly crowded. There's a decent amount of students gathered on the wooden bleachers (and he wouldn't be surprised if said bleachers suddenly gave way). They're decked out in school colors, chatting happily amongst themselves. Noah makes sure to sit away from the others, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible. A book sits in his lap. If the game gets boring, at least he'll come out of it with a bit of light reading done.
The college's players are introduced, and the game begins. Their team isn't… awful. They're holding up a fair fight against the opposing team, but when you come from a college as shitty as theirs, it's difficult to hold up against other schools. But no one seems to be making a fool of themselves yet. There's a few horrible calls by the refs, but that's typical of any game.
After a while, Lindsay comes bounding up the bleachers, wood creaking underneath her feet. She quickly sits down next to him, dressed in her way too revealing cheerleading uniform. Cringing, he averts his gaze, keeping them locked onto the court. Lindsay does the same.
For the next few moments, they sit there in silence, listening to the announcer over the muffled mic, and the cheers and boos of the students in the crowd. Lindsay's leg begins to bounce up and down anxiously before she admits in a hysteric tone, " I can't recognize Tyler. "
It's an admission made in guilt. Noah turns, and he can see the panic in her eyes. It's not as if this is something new. She's always had difficulty recalling people's faces or their names. He'd just chalked it up to be ignorance, but with how much stress she's radiating, he's beginning to think differently.
"You can't recognize your own boyfriend?" He finds himself asking. "Lindsay, you forget my name all the time-"
"This is different!" She interjects, voice cracking. Her breath begins to hitch. "Look, I know it's you because you always wear the same tacky outfit, and Tyler always wears that obnoxious red track suit, but now he's in uniform, and I can't recognize his face because they don't look right and-"
He places a comforting hand on her knee, trying to stop her from spiraling. She bites down on her knuckle, eyes anxiously watching the game before her. A realization comes to mind, and he tries not to let the shock show on his face.
"You're face blind?" He asks her lowly. She responds with an minute nod, eyes watery.
Noah exhales through his nose, returning his eyes to the game. "It's fine, it's fine. Don't panic. We'll find him," he murmurs, and she presses a little further into his side, seeking comfort. "Do you know his jersey number? We can look for him that way."
"Um-" She bites down on her bottom lip, struggling to compose herself. "36. He liked how it was an even number."
"Alright, alright. Breathe."
He scans the court for the number before his eyes land on a familiar lanky body. He points to a figure as they head onto the court. "There he is. 36. You see him?"
Lindsay traces the finger's path, body relaxing in relief as she lands on her boyfriend's figure. "Yeah, yeah, I see him," she says, relieved. She tacks on a much quieter, "Thanks."
He simply nods, and that is that.
By the time halftime rolls around, Lindsay is looking much better. She performs the cheerleading halftime routine in much better spirits than she had been earlier. She flips effortlessly in the air, finishing the routine with a broad grin sent Noah's way. At the end of the performance, she's quick to scramble back up the bleachers to sit beside him.
After a few more fouls and a couple more bad calls by the referees, the two teams are tied. Tyler has managed to not completely make a fool of himself this game. He's had a couple stumbles here and there, tripping over his own two feet, but that's Tyler for you. Regardless, he actually seems to be helping them team rather than hurting. Good for him.
There's about twenty seconds on the clock. Another player fouls, landing their team a free throw. Noah actually thinks they might win this until someone makes the idiotic decision to let Tyler throw. Noah places his head in his hands and groans. This is not going to end well.
The students in the stand seem to hold a similar sentiment. Some are already packing up to leave, content with losing due to Tyler's unathleticism. Besides him, Lindsay watches with bated breath.
The first shot slams into the backboard before ricocheting into their player bench. It manages to nail one of their own players in the face, and the dude falls backwards before raising a shaky thumbs up. The crowd cringes, and if they weren't discouraged before, they are now. Tyler's looking similarly disheartened.
Next to him, Lindsay rises to her feet. There's a determined look in her eye. She cups her hands around her mouth, shouting out a, "You can do it, Tyler!"
Her boyfriend locks eyes with her, and a large smile spreads across his face. His eyes are filled with a mixture of love and hopefulness.
Noah's not the praying type, but for Lindsay's sake, he sure hopes the athlete doesn't make a fool of himself.
Tyler goes to take the shot. The crowd grows silent in anticipation. Tyler aims. The ball leaves his fingers, flies through the air, circles the rim-
It slips into the net with a quiet "swoosh".
The crowd goes positively insane . The other team scrambles to make use of the limited time they have left, but it's futile. Before long, the game-ending buzzer echoes around the gym. The crowd hoots and hollers, and Tyler's got the widest smile on his face that Noah's ever seen.
Lindsay pulls him into a quick, tight hug, planting a kiss on his cheek in thanks before sprinting down to congratulate her boyfriend. Noah stands dumbfounded, watching as the blonde launches herself at the athlete. Tyler screams with laughter, swinging his girlfriend around with glee.
There's a moment as he's hugging Lindsay that he pauses to make eye-contact with Noah. Squinting, Noah's just able to make out a mouthed, " Thank you ."
Noah just raises a hand in thumbs-up.
_____________
It's finals week. Students here have gone practically insane from cramming in last minute study sessions. It's times like these where Noah questions his professors' grading systems. What's the point in making your final exams worth sixty percent of the grade?
Lindsay's been with him night after night, and Noah can tell she's on the edge of a nervous breakdown too. Her hair's a bit more frazzled than usual, lips red and raw from where she'd been biting at them in worry. He has to grab her hand to physically stop her from tearing strands of hair out.
"You'll be fine," he tells her the night before her final statistics exam. She's the most nervous he's ever seen her. He places a hand on top of her's to calm her nerves. "You just need to get a C to pass the class. Just remember what we've practiced."
As she's packing away her notes for the night, she pauses to look at him. There's an odd sort of sincerity in her eyes, and she gives him a nod. "Even if I do fail this…thanks. For not giving up on me."
He shrugs. "Just doing my job."
But they both know that he'd stopped doing this just for the tutoring money long ago. She gives him a knowing smile, and then she's off. A funny little part of him twists in an emotion he doesn't quite recognize, and he finds himself hoping he gets a text from her later in the week about a good exam grade.
_____________
The next few days are… strange.
Finals week has neared its end. Students have begun packing their belongings to head home for winter break. The campus is dead. Quiet. Noah finds himself with an odd lack of Lindsay in his life.
It's not that he's in a rush to head home. Believe him, one can only handle eight older sisters for so long. Being at college is a nice reprieve…and let's face it. Classes are the least stressful thing in his life.
Strangely enough, he does feel as though he's already missing something. It's an odd feeling to not be sitting in the library every day after class, nursing a cup of sugary coffee, gossiping about the latest school drama, and doing his best to explain math to a girl who struggles with the simplest of directions. But now that it's over and the semester's come to an end, he feels strange, to say the least.
He's just finishing packing his things for the long trip home when there's a knock on his door. He opens it to find Lindsay standing there, bundled in an oversized coat and scarf, snowflakes clinging to her perfect eyelashes. It seems she'd been ready to head home for the holidays too.
"What are you doing here?" He finds himself asking, raising a brow at her. It's not that he's not happy to see her, it's just that-
"I thought you'd want to see this," she says, pulling out a piece of paper and presenting it like a child may do with one of their drawings.
The paper's a bit wet from the snow outside, pencil writing smudged, but there's no mistaking the bright red A circled across the top. Noah blinks. Then a large smile spreads across his face, and he finds himself initiating a hug for once.
"No way!" He pulls back from the hug, unable to stop himself from smiling. He snatches the exam out of her hand, staring at it in shock. "You're serious?!"
She nods, incredibly giddy. "Yes way! I just got it back this morning! My professor almost thought I was cheating with how quickly I turned around, but then I explained how I'd been working with you, and…" She trails off, giving an awkward shrug.
He hands the exam back to her, heart swelling with pride. "You…You did good, Lindsay."
She grins. "I had a good tutor."
There's an awkward bit of silence as Lindsay stands in the doorframe. What's he supposed to do after that? Their relationship had really only been formed because he was tutoring her, but now that that was done, there was really no need to see each other anymore. He got paid, she passed the class. All's well that ends well, right?
"I should probably go," she says at last, jabbing a thumb behind her. "Gotta head home for the holidays, but…feel free to text me sometime, yeah? It'd be nice to hang out on campus again after break. Maybe get coffee?"
"I'd like that."
"Good," she says, smiling at him. "And no more math courses for me, I swear!"
He leans against the doorframe, shaking his head in amusement. "Somehow, I think you'll pass the rest of your classes just fine."