Sidelines || MxM

Your Girlfriend

"Oh, and remember, next week's game night is on you. I'll be nagging you every day until then!" She threw in with a wink. She waved goodbye, leaving the room with the same bouncy energy she carried everywhere.

Maggie's words lingered in my mind as I finished gathering my things. That brief interaction sparked a sudden recollection – a book I had found online, one that could be incredibly valuable for Jackson's paper.

Making my way to the political science section at the far end of the library, I searched for the book I had in mind. It offered the perfect blend of historical context and case studies Jackson needed. Finding it, I pulled the book from the shelf and began thumbing through its pages, my eyes catching key phrases and bullet points. I was so absorbed in the book's details that the rest of the library seemed to fade into the background. My focus was so intense that I barely registered a presence beside me.

"Excuse me," it said, pulling me out of my concentration. I looked up to find a girl standing in front of me. She was tall, her striking red hair cascading down her shoulders like a fiery waterfall. Her eyes, brown but blazing as if on fire, intensified the impact of her presence. Next to her, I found myself feeling slightly dwarfed.

"Could you point me to the political science section?" she asked, her voice echoing through the library.

I blinked, momentarily taken aback. "You're actually standing right in it," I replied.

She smiled, and there was something about her smile that made me uneasy. "Oh, right, thank you," she said, her smile again lingering a bit longer than necessary. "You've been very helpful. I'm Hannah, by the way." She reached out her hand, I instinctively extended mine in return. However, the moment our hands touched, the atmosphere shifted subtly. Her grip tightened unexpectedly, not painfully, but enough to convey a message that wasn't entirely friendly.

"Hannah," she reiterated, her voice taking on a new edge, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "You're tutoring Jackson Knox, aren't you?"

Oh...

"Yes, that's right. Just helping him with some classes."

She leaned in slightly, her voice lowering. "Jackson's quite the charmer, isn't he? It's easy to, let's say, get the wrong impression. You understand, don't you?"

Ah, the joy of unexpected confrontations.

I felt a chill at her insinuation, the subtext clear in her carefully chosen words. I took a step back, my hand releasing hers as if I'd touched something searing. "I'm just his tutor. Our interactions are purely academic."

"Oh, of course," Hannah said, her smile returning but not quite reaching her eyes. As she spoke, her voice faltered for a fraction of a second, and her eyes momentarily lost their hard edge. "Just academic. I'm glad we understand each other, Ethan," she continued, her tone regaining its firmness. "I don't want his reputation ruined by being seen with someone like you. It's enough with what happened at the festival."

Ha, what a bitch, I thought bitterly.

Her words, venomous and unexpected, hit me like a slap. My jaw tightened, a surge of anger boiling beneath the surface, not just at her audacity but also at the sheer absurdity of it all. My fists clenched involuntarily at my sides, knuckles whitening. My breath quickened, and I could feel a heat creeping up my neck. Jackson is straight, a fact that now I knew well. I fought the urge to call after her, to defend myself – my eyes probably flashing a clear challenge, even as I stood rooted in shock. Part of me wanted to laugh it off, to tell her she was wrong. But another part, a part buried deep, recoiled in fear, fearing the same rejection and judgment I thought I had overcome.