I was a girl on a mission and Sawyer knew it. After Mr. Davies and the Principal put the carrot and the stick in my hands, the former went out to find Sawyer with the news and... well, let's just say the latter proved elusive. At some point I saw Mr. Davies catch Sawyer in between periods, only for the boy to dash into the restrooms. It'd have been funny if I didn't have skin in the game. But now I did.

So I chased after him, too. Except with more wits than my favorite teacher. See, he didn't know the things about Sawyer that I did. Like for example, his hiding spots.

I knew he had detention all this week, which meant he'd be late for his part time at papa's car shop and I would have to make sure that the tardiness went on his file and his pay was docked in turn. That was why this week was dead and gone, I wouldn't get him to start working on his academics even if I bound him to a desk and smacked him up the head with a book. But I did have to make sure we got started next week. That would give me only one month to turn him around and spin this into a heartwarming story for my early admission college applications.

Time was already ticking. With that in mind I stood at the edge of the school building, overlooking the large expanse that was both the baseball and football fields of Metro High. All the people I never wanted to hang out with usually spent their lunch time under the bleachers. This went anywhere between the kids with questionable hygiene, the ones who wanted to find a shady but somewhat isolated place to make out and fondle each other, and the ones who just wanted to be alone.

At any given time, Sawyer could fall into one of the last two categories. I had a high probability of finding him there.

I gripped my bag's handle hard and marched away from the protection of the building, into the blasting sun of a clear noon in Central Florida, until it gave way to the shadows under the bleachers. I tried not to make eye contact with anybody I found. That was, until I found my prey and he made eye contact with me.

Funny, because when he did I felt like I was the one in danger.

His eyebrows went up as I stood in front of him. Slowly, and I knew it was just to get on my nerves, he looked me up and down. As if he couldn't quite believe that I dared join him under the bleachers. He was sprawled on the mottled grass, propped up on his elbows as he smoked a cigarette. Which was totally against school policy.

I dropped my bag and bent forward. Before he could react, I'd taken the cigarette right off his lips and thrown it on the ground, putting it out with my shoe. This did not seem to affect him, contrary to how I thought he'd react.

"Why do you do this stuff?" I asked him, wiping the hand that touched the thing against my jeans. "Don't you know these things kill?"

He snorted and leaned his head back, exposing the long chords of muscle of his neck. When he looked back at me he was smirking. "I'll die of something anyway."

My whole face scrunched up. "You're seventeen, for Pete's sake. If you're trying to sound cool, know that I think you sound like a little kid trying to imitate a jaded movie actor, or something. It's dumb."

Sawyer rolled his eyes and pulled up to sitting cross legged. He ran a hand through the long locks of blond hair he never kept brushed and sighed.

"Princess, if you're here to talk shit at me I'm gonna ask you to turn your pretty ass around and take it away."

I sucked in a sharp breath that was more a warning to myself than to him. This was why dealing with him was never a chore I looked forward to. He always tried to shock me. Ever since we were kids, he'd always try to spew something out of that mouth of his that would make me run or cry, or preferably both. And although he'd stopped having the intended effect a couple of years ago, when I finally learned to look at him with more contempt than dread, he still had the power to make my temper flare.

I had no idea how I was going to get him to graduate if with one line he'd already made me want to smack him. I folded my arms to prevent them from causing him bodily injury.

"Mr. Davies and I have been trying to talk with you."

He stretched his arms above him with a yawn. "I know."

"So?"

"I don't wanna talk," he said. As if that was that.

"Well tough," I said. "This is part of your punishment for that stupid fight with Taylor Banks."

His now scabbing lip probably hurt as it stretched into a small smirk. But he said nothing.

I huffed. "Look, the fact is that you don't have enough credits to graduate and you need help."

"No shit, I still have a full school year left," he said.

That was when I realized he didn't really know the trouble he was in. Which was why I was there, enduring the weird looks from the weirder people nearby, so that I could give him the gospel.

I enumerated his faults with my fingers. "First of all, your detention record is the worst in the school, and would you look at that? This week you'll be adding more to it." I ticked another finger. "Your grades are abysmal. You skip class or arrive late. You get into fights. And if that weren't all you've got caught fooling around with girls at school before." I gave out an angry laugh, seeing the monumental task ahead of me. "Pal, I don't even know if one more full year will be enough to get you that diploma. It's almost like you don't even want it."

He hoisted himself up to his full height. A whole head higher than me. Sawyer breached the distance between us until he was truly looking down at me, both in the literal and the figurative sense. I was vindicated by the fact that the ugly snarl had to be hurting his lip.

"And what would a screw up from the wrong side of the tracks like me do with a diploma?" He tilted his head, as if waiting for an answer. "Shove it up his ass? Because where I'm headed in life I won't need it."

Then I felt his fingers tilt my chin up. I froze.

His grey eyes turned to lead as he stared into my wide ones. "Not all of us are bound for the glitz and glamour of a college life, followed by student debt, marriage, a mortgage and a happy family with kids and a dog."

I felt a shiver crawl up my back. It wasn't because of the rasp in his voice. It was because he was from that side of the tracks. The side where the houses had no picket fences or golden retrievers. Where families were as broken as the houses were broken down. Where people started out life a lot of steps behind everybody else.

I slapped his hand away from me. He'd hidden behind that excuse all his life to get away with all of this. And the world had fallen for the act. Poor Sawyer, they said. Give him a break, they said. He had no one to teach him any better, they said. His father was certainly no example, and his mother had high tailed it as soon as she had a chance.

Yeah, well, other people had it even worse and they still pulled themselves up by the boot straps. Like papa.

"Cut it out, the self deprecating act won't work on me." He jerked back as if I'd hit him. I advanced one step as I jammed my index into his shoulder. I bit through the spark of pain in my poor finger, because I'd miscalculated just how solid he was. "I'm going to give you an opportunity to shape up and you're going to take it. You know why?"

His eyes shone like he was amused. He tilted his head forward and licked his lips as he asked, "Why?"

I refused to let him show that this caused a reaction in me. An unexpected and very unwelcome reaction. One I never wanted to feel in his presence.

Something like... anticipation.

I pushed him away with both hands, so he got the message loud and clear. I wasn't here for any of his games.

"Because it's the last chance this school is giving you," I said, half bluffing. The other half was all about how this was going to help me, but if he knew that it'd be all the more reason for him to dig in his heels and just let the year go by in a blur of mediocrity and tomfoolery.

"Hmm." He held his chin as if he were considering this. "That'd be a compelling argument if I cared."

"Ugh," I said, stomping my foot. It was so unfair that I got loaded with this useless sack of muscle in order to get a glowing recommendation. But I was my papa's daughter and I was not short on determination.

"Sawyer Logan," I started, sounding like my mama about to throw a chancla. I poked his shoulder again, "If you don't-"

Two things happened at once. The first was that he grabbed my hand, presumably so I'd stop hurting him. The other was that a new voice suddenly joined the conversation.

"What are you doing here?"

I jumped around to find Lexie Cooper there, a royal among the lowest rung of peasants, gracing us with her presence. She had her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed at me, as if I were the only person in this place who didn't belong.

"What are you doing here?" I volleyed back.

"That's none of your business," she snapped and I gritted my teeth. I should've just replied to her question that way.

I bent down to pick up my bag because I wasn't going to waste time trying to get in between Sawyer and his latest plaything. Especially when said plaything had acrylic claws that I didn't want anywhere near me.

I turned to Sawyer and narrowed my eyes at him. "This isn't over."

He looked at me from under his eyebrows. "I have no doubt."

I huffed and turned to leave, except Lexie got in my way. All arms folded and eyebrows up like she meant business.

"What's not over?" she asked.

I took great pleasure in saying, "None of your business."

I left her gaping at me and didn't miss the fact that Sawyer laughed. It deflated my sense of victory because as I walked away from them I realized I hadn't secured his participation. But I was relentless in my pursuit of goals. I was going to corner him somewhere he couldn't hide. And I was going to get him to agree to being tutored by me, no matter what it took.

Sawyer Logan was going to be my ticket to college.

watch out Sawyer, Rory's intense mode has activated and you're the target of her hunt