𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝//𝐦. 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢

4//at-risk

Mischa's P.O.V

I threw myself onto my bed when I got home. I groaned in annoyance when I took off my sweatshirt just to realize that it smelled exactly like Y/n. It was that heady mix of strawberry, a bit of peach, and some sort of flowery undertone. I liked it, but she annoyed me, so therefore the smell annoyed me.

Why couldn't she have just laughed at me and told me no when I told her to hold me? Why did that make me feel so weird and vulnerable? I hated feeling vulnerable.

...

Apparently, missing three days in chemistry felt like missing three weeks. I was far behind and I'm not even good at chemistry. I wasn't about to ask Y/n for help, either. She wouldn't even talk to me, much less acknowledge my existence. As nice as that sounds, I found it annoying. I'd had enough by the end of class on Friday.

"Y/n. If you will not speak to me because of what happened at your house, I want to let you know that it was not big deal."

Silence.

"I do not care that you let me do that," I tried.

"What do you want from me?"

"Nothing."

She shrugged. "Alright. Then you don't need to talk to me. It's that simple."

"I try to be decent for two seconds, and you give me the attitude. I cannot win."

"Yeah, sure. I'm not giving you answers to the homework, if that's what you were going to ask."

"I was not!" I frowned. "Whatever. I cannot deal with you today. You give me more big headache. I already have enough."

...

Y/n's POV

For an entire week after the incident on Wednesday, I avoided Mischa like the plague as much as I could. And for once, it was not because I didn't like him. It's because I was scared, but not of him. Every single time I looked at him, I remembered the clingy little boy he turned into as I held him. It definitely doesn't help that he's kinda hot. It dawned on me that I was at-risk for developing a crush on a complete asshole. I just couldn't cope, so I avoided him. Only, it gets kinda hard when I have to tutor him and I have class every day with him. He also comes over every Wednesday to check on his concussion with my mom, which I almost forgot this week. I got home from school, only for my house to be super hot. I wasn't one to complain about a room being too warm, because I tended to be on the colder side. But this? It was unbearably hot.

"Mom? Can you turn down the heater?"

She shrugged. "I wish. It's broken. We have repairs coming in about four days."

I frowned and trudged up the stairs. As soon as I got into my room, I immediately changed from my

school uniform into lighter, comfier clothes. I put on a black, v-neck tank top with lace trim and some pajama pants with the name of a college I wanted to go to on them.

As I went back downstairs to get my homework from my backpack, Mischa walked through the door. I completely froze. He lifted his head, looking at me. I wasn't sure if I was delusional, but I could've sworn I saw his eyes flicker away from my face, and... elsewhere... for just a second.

"Oh. It is you," He said, borderline disdainfully.

"Yeah. It's kinda like this is my house or something. Crazy, right?"

Mischa scowled. "Shut up."

He shoved his way past me into the kitchen where my mom was.

"Hello, Ms. L/n!"