He was late.

Thirty minutes into our Sunday tutoring session and he was nowhere to be found, with no response to excuse his tardiness.

Worst of all, this was the second time in a row he'd done it. Thursday was the same, but unlike Thursday, I wouldn't sit around longer waiting for a response. I simply walked out of our study room and left.

The next time I saw Nathaniel Julian Rochester Holloway, he was going to feel my wrath.

I was already in a mood today and this wasn't making things better. My dad called to request I join him and his girlfriend for dinner next weekend, and when I declined, my mom called and forced me to change my mind. Then I had my phone screening with Stevens & Winslow that I thought went well until I overheard Chelsea Scott announce she was asked to schedule an in-person interview right after her screening. I wasn't asked to do the same.

And then as a final blow, mother nature decided to unleash my flowing red sea of misery onto me two weeks early, causing the destruction of my favorite cotton underwear. So I took a deep breath, walked to the parking garage, and entered my car and slammed the door with more force than needed.

As if to insult me one final time, I got a call from Nate the second I started my car up.

I contemplated not picking up, then decided to just answer it. I wanted to hear an apology, I couldn't lie. I was desperately searching for a miniscule thing that could make my crappy day even a fraction better.

Plus we were going to have to make up for missing these crucial hours of tutoring. Midterms were in two weeks, and with the looks of my chances at Stevens & Winslow, I had to put a majority of my eggs in the basket I weaved with Nate.

"Hello." I answered my phone.

Nate breathed heavily on his end. I could hear a lot of noise in the background as well. It sounded like basketballs smacking against a floor. Was he out playing basketball? That was why he decided to not show? "Hey, Leah..." He dragged his words.

Guilty. He knew he was and didn't even try to hide it.

"Hey? That's all you have?" I wasn't intending on yelling at him, it just came out naturally. I did simmer down after that, though. I wasn't the screaming type and I frankly didn't have the energy to become one overnight.

He took another deep breath before he spoke again, and because I was getting to know his quirks so well, I could guess he was scratching the side of his face and clenching his jaw in that moment too.

"Can I please explain myself? Because I do have an explanation," he said.

"You have two minutes and I'm running the clock starting now," I said, checking the time on my clock to stand by my words.

"Well, I'm actually gonna need you to come meet me so I can explain myself. Can you make it to the YMCA in Newton Bridge?" He asked.

"Newton Bridge? Why the hell would I go all the way out there?" He was out of his mind. He flaked on me and I had to make the effort to see him for his explanation? That wasn't how this was going to work.

"I know it's a little out of your way, but I wouldn't have asked if I didn't need you to see me in person. I can cover your gas if that's the problem."

Was he in some trouble? I couldn't help thinking. He was being so vague and insisting on meeting me in person.

"Send me the full address, I'll meet you there," I said.

***

When I pulled up to the YMCA, Nate was already standing by the front entrance. He kept an eye on my car and approached it before I could finish parking.

"Why did you want me to come here?" I asked while hopping out of my car. I surveyed him up and down, somewhat anticipating a bruise or limp, anything to signal he really was in trouble and it might have even turned violent at a point, but no, he had no physical injuries.

"I want you to see why I was late," he said and grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the entrance while I still remained confused and irritated.

"Because you wanted to hang out at a YMCA?"

He stayed silent as we walked through the entrance doors, turning left and going all the way down the end of the hall.

"No, I don't just hang out here." He stopped in front of the doors that had a small sign on the side saying, children's fitness center.

"You better not." I mumbled, letting the sharp cramps attack my lower belly almost as a punishment for my attitude.

As if I was needing a bigger punishment, walking through the doors instantly attacked half of my senses all at once: The blaring lights overhead that shined much brighter than they needed to, the sound of dozens of children laughing and shouting at the top of their lungs, the smell of one particular child lifting his leg up to break wind so loud it caused the room to pause.

Their eyes shifted from the culprit, a little curly haired boy who smiled proudly while digging in his nose, to Nate and me walking in.

What was he doing in this room full of children? And why the hell would he bring me into the mix?

I didn't like how the crowd stared at me, to be honest. With adult, I was strong willed and not easily bothered, but these kids, they were looking at me like I was fresh meat. Like they could fart in my face and touch me with their snot covered fingers. It was unnerving.

I took a few steps away from Nate, admittedly, cowering in the corner to keep the attention away from me.

"Alright, I don't see any new friends today, so you know the drill," Nate laughed at my unease then turned back to the kids. "I'm coach Nate and I'll be your gym teacher today. First and foremost we're here to have fun, that means we have to be safe. Use kind hands, kind words, and have kind patience. That also means you have to listen carefully to coach Nate. When I speak, you're quiet. If you have any questions you raise your hand first."

A little girl in the first row, blonde locks scooped into a high ponytail with a giant pink bow, raised her hand immediately as she pursed her lips into a confident grin.

Nate looked in her direction and sighed before saying, "yes, Stephanie."

The girl pointed at me. "Why is she here? donkey lips." she said.

Suddenly the room burst into a fit. "Donkey lips, donkey lips." They laughed and pointed at Nate.

"That's not even funny." The girl beside Stephanie spoke up, causing the room to turn quiet. They seemed to struggle between following the lead of Stephanie and her taunting, and Nike jacket, with her fresh set of braids and zero tolerance for teasing her apparent gym teacher, Nate.

"Thank you, Kiara." He smiled at Nike Jacket then turned back with a scowl at Stephanie. "To answer your question. This is Leah, she'll be observing our class today, so be nice to her."

Stephanie eyed me curiously and I prepared myself for the insults she might throw my way, but instead, she side-eyed Kiara with precaution and remained quiet as Nate guided the class through their warmup and introduced the activity.

As I quietly observed, a lot of thoughts ran through my head. There was a lot Nate needed to explain, but I was no longer angry at him. Not telling me ahead of time that he couldn't make it to our session was still unacceptable, and I'd have to remind him of that again. He could've just told me he was working today. Working. Nate Holloway, coach Nate, I should say. That was definitely taking some time to digest.

It was cute, though. Watching him interact with the kids, from the more bratty ones to the ones that were entirely sweet. He still gave each one his undivided attention. Still encouraged them to push themselves and have fun.

They played soccer today. After dividing them into two groups, he spent the entire time reminding them of the rules.

"Stop picking up the ball, Stephanie, you can't use your hands, remember."

"You kick the ball into the other team's net, not your own, Jackson."

"Emma, the goalie's job is to block the ball from getting into the net, not running and screaming every time it flies in your direction."

The kids were very into the game, no matter how wrong they played it.

I sat in the corner the entire time, watching it all play out and surprisingly, time flew. When Nate blew his whistle and declared the end of the class, I didn't realize an entire hour had passed.

The kids' parents started popping up, giving short greetings to Nate, before whisking their kids away.

When the room finally cleared up and it was just Nate and me, he let himself take a deep breath, and came over to sit next to me. We were side by side, crisscrossed, knees touching due to how close he chose to be.

"You have a job," I said.

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you tell me you couldn't make our session today?"

"Because I didn't know. The other instructor called out at the last minute, my manager begged me to pick up this shift, and I couldn't say no because honestly, I need the money."

This was even more confusing. "Why do you need the money?"

He gave a half scoff half laugh. "I'm not rich, Leah." He saw my expression and held his hand out for me to wait for the rest of his explanation. "Okay, my parents are rich, but I say I'm not because I don't take money from them. The only thing they pay for is my tuition, other than that, I've been on my own since freshman year."

"Why?" I said lower, trying to hide any judgement. He was telling me something I'm sure he kept from most people, and I didn't want him to feel like I wasn't going to support him.

"Well, I didn't want to just be another trust fund kid. I played around a little back in high school, and took full advantage of what I had. By the time graduation was looming, I could just tell my dad was over me. My mom was too, but she's way too loving to flat out say it. They didn't cut me off, but I wanted to prove I could survive on my own, pay most of my own bills, live well below the means I had growing up."

"That's commendable. If I grew up rich, I can't say I'd do the same. I don't know, my whole life has been me pushing myself to one day get to that level, so I can't fully grasp how I'd act or be if that life was afforded to me straight at birth. I'd be a very different person, for sure," I said.

"And I'm sure I'd be a different person if I grew up like you. I think about that sometimes."

"You think about how I grew up?" I asked.

He placed his hand on my knee, the one that was already touching his. The act was so natural and smooth, I didn't notice and I don't think he did either. It wasn't until his fingers began lightly tapping against me, that I felt a small warmth begin to spread within.

"I do. It's so interesting to see how driven and passionate you are. I know you're a little insecure about your future but you're also confident as hell about fighting to reach your dreams and I haven't really seen that with people our age outside of football."

"I try not to be too overbearing with it. I like to let my fun side come out every once in a while too. I'm not just miss uptight, goody-two shoes, teachers pet 24/7."

"Those strings of nicknames sound eerily familiar, but I have no idea where you'd get them from." He laughed.

"From my former enemy. Don't worry, though, we're good friends now," I said.

"We are?" His face and tone turned serious. He leaned into me, our shoulders now touching too. As I stared into his green/blue eyes, felt the heat of our shoulders and knees together, something hit my chest repeatedly, I swear, it's the only explanation for why it was beating so hard.

"If you want to be." I swallowed.

"Of course I do." He immediately replied.

I looked down at my hands to break eye contact, shaking the weird feeling that took over out of me. "Well, friend. What time do you get off?"

"I have one more class after this. Sorry, my laptop finally gave out on me and I need to get a new one by tomorrow."

"Okay, I typically wouldn't waste an entire Sunday hour just sitting around, but if I can be assistant coach Leah, then maybe I'd be willing to wait for you, and after your class is over, we can go over to the library and work on some materials for a bit. How does that sound?"

He smiled even wider. "Sounds great.

He rose up and offered me his hand to lift me off of the floor. Instead of just lifting me, though, he pulled me up against him and planted a kiss on my cheek.

The kiss burned into my skin leaving me to touch the spot while Nate let go of my hand and greeted the new slew of parents and kids that walked in.

Why did he do that? And why did I like it?