Seven Twenty-Eight

*14.

!!tw : the following chapter contains domestically violent themes. please proceed at your own risk!!

"I can check what you have now and fix them before we move on," Oliver muttered, flipping his book open.

Elisa kept her head down, pressing her lips into a thin line as she awkwardly tapped her fingers against her notebook.

"What's wrong?" He paused from his own work to look at her.

She peered up at him through her eyelashes, her eyebrows pushed together slightly.

He raised his eyebrows at her, expecting her to say something.

She sighed in defeat, moving to pull her out her very blank study guide.

He nodded his head slowly, bringing his hands up to fold them over his books. "Elisa, I dug through a months worth of work to make that for you," He said quietly.

"I know," She groaned, dropping her head forward on the desk, not wanting to look at him, "I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you do it?" He asked, leaning forward to hear her better.

She lifted her head again, instantly snapping her mouth shut when she realized how much closer he was. She cleared her throat, tensely leaning back in her seat as she looked at her hands. "I just— I-I didn't know how."

He blinked at her, leaning back as well as he stared at her blankly.

Truthfully, they worked together well. In the past two weeks alone, Elisa's grade boosted up the highest it'd been that whole semester. But she couldn't exactly tell him that instead of holding her end of their deal, she spent the last few nights with Jackson.

"You didn't know how," He repeated back, "Are you sure?"

She just looked at him, quirking an eyebrow.

He frowned, leaning forward again to hush their conversation away. "Elisa, you have a ninety-five in the class— You got your first 'A' on a quiz last week," He told her, "There's no way you didn't understand how to do any of this."

She huffed, resting her chin in her hand. "Maybe I exaggerated a little," She mumbled, "Maybe I do know how to do some of it."

"No kidding," He snickered, leaning away again to turn his notes back to an earlier lesson.

"I didn't want to risk doing it wrong," She added, offering a surprisingly convincing smile.

He glanced up at her, shaking his head slightly as he smiled. "Is that right?" He teased her, causing her smile to fall.

"What?" She groused, dropping her arms out over the table.

"I wouldn't peg our future valedictorian for have poor work ethic," He retorted, raising his eyebrows, "You didn't want to do it wrong my ass."

She gasped dramatically, lightly smacking his hand. "I'll have you know I'm a very obsessive person," She scoffed, "A perfectionist, if you will."

Oliver smirked in amusement, grabbing her hand as he leaned into her. "That fits, I think," He nodded, "The perfect part, I mean."

Her mouth opened slightly, instantly feeling her cheeks redden. "I-I-"

"We can just to do this together," He said suddenly, pulling his hand away to dig the paper out from under her arm— Acting as if he hadn't said anything, "We'll probably get farther than you would've gotten by yourself anyway."

She pressed her lips together. "We probably won't finish it though," She murmured, turning to dig the rest of her things out of her bag.

He glanced at her again, turning his wrist over to look at his watch. "Why not? It's early," He inquired, raising his eyebrows.