Sidelines || MxM

A Special Request

Ethan

The Birchwood Cafe's door swung shut behind me, and I was instantly smacked with a cold that was definitely laughing at my so-called 'outfit of the day.' I was wearing a sweater-type vest that screamed, 'I think it's still summer.' Underneath, a white shirt - thin, flimsy, and utterly delusional about its ability to ward off the cold. And shorts? Well, let's just say the shorts were a bold move. The breeze laughed at my audacity, and I could almost hear it whisper, "Welcome to Michigan, where summer lasts as long as a good mood on Monday."

My backpack shifted on my shoulder as I shoved my hands deep into my pockets, seeking refuge from the chill that seemed to have taken a particular interest in me. I should've known better than to trust a weather app. I had a ten-minute walk to the Library Building, where the Honor Society and Professor Hayes were waiting for me. But the street way to CLU was a parade of appropriately dressed people, each one looking smugger than the next in their sensible fall attire as they passed by.

Dodging human traffic, I made my way to the campus itself. The academic buildings were tall and imposing, with their traditional red brick, giving off a Gothic vibe. The older ones especially stood out with their pointed arches and elaborate stonework. And as if the universe hadn't already conspired enough against me, just outside the library building, I passed the banner —oh, that banner—with Jackson's hot-shot face plastered all over it.

His sharp features were impossible to ignore; the strong jawline and the black hair that fell perfectly, even in a still image, framed a face that was the epitome of masculine, both captivating and unsettling. But it was the deep blue of his eyes, even in the oversized image, that really felt like a punch to the gut. The banner was so big that my eyes couldn't help but roll.

"Damn you, Leo," I muttered under my breath.

I pushed open the heavy doors of the library, and the familiar smell of old books welcomed me. I navigated through the maze of bookshelves and study tables and spotted Professor Hayes standing near the large bay windows. He was a middle-aged man with a kind face and always with his reading glasses perched on his nose.

"Ethan, there you are!" Professor Hayes exclaimed, his voice tinged with relief. "I was beginning to think the homecoming madness had swept you away."

Oh, yes, Jackson Knox madness.

"Almost, Professor Hayes, but I managed to escape," I said, my eyes involuntarily drifting to the window where the edges of that infernal banner were visible.

Professor Hayes followed my gaze and chuckled softly. "Ah, the joys of college life," he said, adjusting his glasses thoughtfully. "We have quite a bit to cover today regarding the Lantern Festival, but before we leap into that, another matter needs attention."

I tilted my head. "What's that, Professor?"

"Well, Ms. Jenkins is here to discuss a timely issue. We're at that point in the semester where we've just received midterm grades, and there's some concern from our sports team coaches about their athletes' academic performance."

I nodded. "Right, do they need more tutors this year?"

"Not exactly. This year's situation is a bit unique. We've received a special request from one of the coaches. Given your academic record and considering this is your final year, I thought of you immediately."

My curiosity was piqued, and I found myself reflecting on my experiences with the Honor Society. We often volunteered to tutor other students, and I had my fair share of interactions with athletes. Fortunately, none of them had been football players, a fact I was increasingly grateful for.