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Logline
An awkward college sophomore must free himself emotionally and financially from his abusive mother in order to win the heart of the former soccer prodigy he tutors.
Blurb
After an illness-stricken childhood, Robin Erie struggles to free himself from his mother's suffocating embrace. Her plan for him is clear: he's to excel in school, take over his late father's business, and marry a suitable girl of her choosing.
Initially, college life offers nothing different from Robin's controlled and monotonous existence. Not until he meets Tyler Caster, a former soccer prodigy who struggles with restraints of his own after an accident took his left leg and made him crutch-bound. Tyler's sweet smile makes Robin dream of freedom and excitement.
Through a string of candy-filled tutoring sessions, Robin and Tyler grow close. Very close. Perhaps they're even flirting? Robin isn't sure, but he wants to find out. But he knows he can't let his mother find out about his bond with Tyler, since Robin has started to suspect that her influence over him might be more nefarious than he previously suspected.
Will Robin be able to break free from his mother's shackles to explore his budding feelings for Tyler?
First 1,000 Words
Why had his mother insisted he should sign up for this damn thing?
Robin's pulse rose the moment he stepped out of Statistics class. He dreaded the challenge that awaited.
New people. With new puzzled glares and new expectations on him. And new opportunities for him to embarrass himself.
Unable to contain nervous jitters in his body, he twirled a pencil between his fingers as he walked through the hallways of Vale University.
On account of his shaking hands, the pencil flew out of his grasp, soon disappearing among the colorful sneakers, smacking flip-flops, and comfortable flats of fellow students. Robin looked longingly after the monogrammed writing device but didn't bother trying to locate it. He had more in his bag anyway.
"Will you be all right by yourself, Robin?" His best friend Des swept a carrot-colored braid away from her shoulder. She skipped along beside him, without a care in the world. She always was so unfazed by everything, while the smallest obstacle stumped Robin."I need to head to my dorm and feed Pax before our next class."
"Of course. You can't let the poor bunny starve." After being friends for most of their lives, Robin was used to playing second fiddle to whatever fluffy animal was Des' current obsession. "And I'm supposed to be tutoring this guy for the whole semester. I think I can meet up with him by myself."
A wordless look and a raised eyebrow told Robin that Des wasn't convinced of his ability to meet up with a previously unfamiliar person, hold a conversation with them, and behave like a socially competent human being throughout. Truth be told, Robin wasn't convinced either. Just the thought of introducing himself made him draw a blank on his name.
Des usually served as his buffer in social situations. She could strike up a conversation with anyone, at any time, and make them feel at ease without even trying–a quality Robin envied. Maybe if he'd gotten more practice as a child--if he'd had more opportunities to interact with his peers during his formative years--then he'd be less inept. Totally non-inept probably wasn't within the bounds of his personality.
"I'll manage," he unconvincingly assured Des.
"Just try to be yourself and don't panic." Des gave Robin a bolstering pat on the shoulder, pulled up her hoodie--which made the cat ears on it flip up--and hurried down the stairs.
With a sigh, Robin pulled up his hoodie as well. It didn't have adorably floppy cat ears, but it did shield him from the scary outside world. Being a sophomore, he should be used to the hustle and bustle of college life by now. But the social intricacies of conversing with his peers still escaped Robin. So he spent most of his time outside class in his dorm room, with books as his only friends. A few times, Des had forced him to social outings, but he soon escaped him to his safe abode again.
A glance at his watch told him he had ten minutes before he had to be at the counseling office. And it also told him he would, without a doubt, get an intrusive phone call within the next two minutes. Because there was no way he would be able to escape the daily noon call from his mother. Not today.
Liza Erie was nothing if not punctual, and one minute later, as Robin walked past blathering and giggling students, his phone inevitably buzzed.
"Hi, Mom." He put the device to his ear and prepared for the barrage.
"Are you about to meet the student you're going to tutor?" Robin's mother wasn't one for cordial greetings or small talk. But she had memorized his daily schedule and also calculated exactly how long it would take for him to walk across campus to be able to keep tabs on her son during the day, despite him being in college two hours away. At least it was better than her coming to school with him, which she had sometimes done during his high school years--to Robin's mortal embarrassment.
"I am," he muttered. "But I still don't understand why you made me sign up for this."
"It will look good on your resume that you've been tutoring a poor disabled kid," his mother countered. "And I'd much rather have you do this than all the other stuff I hear college kids get into. Partying, drinking... other vile stuff. There's so much... trouble out there."
Trouble. The unspoken code between them for boys like Tristan Conway, the captain of Robin's quiz bowl team in high school. With thick curly hair and dark doe eyes, he'd made Robin's insides feel like he was on a roller coaster--or at least how he imagined one would feel, as his mother had never allowed him to partake in such thrills--every time their eyes met. Which they did often because Robin soon got addicted to the hair-raising feeling of falling. His mother must have noticed. Of course, she had. Liza Erie noticed everything. And she'd pulled him out of the quiz bowl team immediately.
Robin had kept away from trouble ever since. It was easier that way. It wasn't like he had any idea of how to act on his confusing emotions anyway, and he certainly couldn't see anyone returning his affections. Because who would want a skinny guy with lacking social skills dressed in clothes his mother bought him?
"But surely this poor crippled boy won't be trouble," his mother concluded. "Were you told anything about him?"
"Just that he was in some kind of accident last semester." It was what the counseling office had told Robin, anyway. "Which is why he missed a lot of classes and needs someone to help him catch up."
His mother sighed at the lack of intel. "Just tell me everything afterward, Robin."
"I will," he promised.
He probably wouldn't. Robin had long ago mastered the art of only telling his mother what she needed to know. "I need to go now, Mom. I'm at the counseling office. I'll talk to you later."
Before his mother could protest, Robin hung up on her. He needed to gather courage for what was to come.
He'd stopped right outside the door to the office. Walking through doors was always a scary prospect to Robin because you never knew what awaited on the other side or how you were expected to react.
A deep breath. Then he pushed the door inward.
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