Tutoring the Bad Boy

Falling 40 Steps and Breaking Your Arm

A/N So I was typing this last night and sentences were coming out like "you end up regretting the food" so I decided it was time to go to bed :)

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*Kaitlyn MacDonald*

"Asher?"

"Long time no see, bean."

I blush as I remember his nickname for me, started because of the first day I met him.

I was sitting on the swings, six years old at the time, in the park across the street from my house, right after we had moved in. My mom was reading a book on the bench a little down the road, in front of the basketball courts where seven-year-old Jordan was playing around with some older kids, but she glanced up to check on me every once in a while.

My legs weren't long enough to reach the ground, so I couldn't push off to start swinging. And so I sat there, kicking my feet aimlessly in the warm spring weather. I was wearing a cute blue skirt with a Jack-and-the-Beanstalk t-shirt. My grandma had bought it for me after she heard how much I liked the story, and I wore it as often as I could.

I had been sitting on my own for maybe ten minutes when a tall boy who looked to be about my age sat on the swing next to me.

"Hello," he said, a smile on his face. "My name is Asher, and I just moved here."

"Hi Asher," I grinned back. "I'm Kaitlyn, and I live just down the street."

"Which house?" he asked.

"The one with the flowers by the mailbox. Where do you live?"

"I think the house right next to you!"

We laughed together, becoming fast friends. After a while, Asher kicked off the ground with his long legs and started pumping his legs back and forth, causing his swing to move higher and higher.

"Come on, Kaitlyn," he called out to me. "Swing with me!"

"I can't," I said, frowning. "I'm not tall enough to reach the ground to kick off."

What he did next shocked me. If I were swinging that high, I would drag my feet on the ground to slow myself down. Instead, Asher waited until the swing was moving forward before jumping off it, high into the air. My six-year-old eyes watched in amazement as he landed on the ground, unharmed, before I burst out clapping.

"That was so cool! Weren't you scared?" I questioned.

"Not at all," he replied, grinning casually. "I do it all the time, so it doesn't bother me anymore." His face turned serious then. "Now, what's this about you can't swing?"

"I'm not tall enough to kick off, and I can't start by just pumping my legs. And yes, I've tried," I said, crossing my arms defiantly.

"Hmm," he thought. "How about I push you?"

I squealed. "That would be awesome, Asher!"

"Okay, bean," he chuckled, before moving behind me to start pushing.

"Bean?" I questioned.

"Your shirt," I heard from behind me. "It was either that or Jack, and I didn't think you'd like the second one."

"Okay," I grinned happily. "Now push me!"

<present time>

I sigh internally. "Hey there yourself, Ash," I cautiously reply. The last time I saw him was at the end of the summer right before high school started, when he left without so much as a goodbye. I'm not exactly going to go running back to him, if that's what he expects.