Chapter 5: The Tutor of My Heart.

February 4, 2024, 11:50 AM, Dreamside, Sarah's house
The doorbell rings.
Fifteen seconds later, the door opens. Sarah stands there in a white T-shirt and loose blue pants, looking at Alex on her doorstep. He's wearing a gray T-shirt and loose gray pants.
They both know why he's here.
A brief pause. Alex burns with embarrassment, glances around nervously, and blurts out, "Hello, Ms. Cote…" He stumbles, flustered.
Yeah, that's dumb. What kind of formality even makes sense here in Dreamside? Between a twenty-five-year-old administrative assistant from the art class at Dreamside High School who goes to parties thrown by the famously twenty-seven-year-old Kate Norwin—and Kate's twenty-nine-year-old boyfriend? Especially when Sarah's on friendly terms with Alex's personal assistant.
Alex is so out of his element he doesn't even try to joke about it.
"Umm... Not Ms. Just Sarah, right?" he says, looking around again. "Good thing you don't live in a crowded neighborhood… I mean, not that I'm ashamed to be seen with you—not at all! You're very beautiful and..." He slaps his own forehead. "Sorry. I just don't want all of Dreamside to find out the West Coast's best erotic writer can't string a fucking sentence together…"
Sarah looks at him and remembers what Lila said yesterday: "Oh, trust me, he's gonna feel about as comfortable as a cat in a bath. But don't let that stop you."
Yeah. Right now Alex really does look like a cat being bathed. And this cat? He actually is one of the hottest erotic writers around... and Sarah actually likes him.
An erotic writer who used to be a virgin before Kate. Who has panic attacks, is terrified of parties, gets confused in front of women, and writes in English like it's his third language. Sarah holds the door open wider and steps back, giving him space to enter. "It's okay," she says with a small smile. "Just come in."
She gestures toward the living room as she closes the door behind him. The house is modest but cozy, with large windows letting in plenty of light and a comfortable-looking sofa in the center of the room.
"Make yourself at home," she says, moving toward the kitchen. "Do you want anything to drink? Water? Tea? I have some coffee if you want to get caffeinated."
Alex follows her, hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Thanks... Tea's better," he says, glancing around the room. "Honestly, this feels kinda surreal... If it turns out later that Lila just wanted to get rid of me and set all this up so she can be like, 'You write fine now, I'm not needed'... ugh..."
He sits down on a kitchen chair. It's an ordinary kitchen—like the kind you'd find in most mid-tier California homes. Not some fancy mansion, but clearly a nice middle-class place.
"Sarah... I know Lila probably told you a lot about me... maybe everything... Anyway—thanks for keeping it to yourself," he adds quietly. Sarah chuckles as she moves to the kettle, filling it with water before setting it on the stove. She leans against the counter, crossing her arms as she studies Alex with an amused expression.
"Oh, don't worry about me. I'm not exactly the type to gossip," she says with a wink. "Besides, Lila was pretty vague about the whole thing. Something about you needing help with writing and... some personal stuff?"
She leaves it hanging, deliberately vague, knowing full well how much Alex dislikes being direct about his issues. She turns to the cabinets and pulls down two mugs, placing them on the counter.
"I just figure if you're here, it means you actually want to work on this." Alex swallows hard, then speaks.
"Alright, I'll say it..." He pauses, then continues. "I love English. It's a beautiful, rich language... the best in the world, but... for me, it was fucking hard. I was the worst at it in school... I mean, back in..." He waves his hand vaguely in the air. "In a country I don't want to remember, whose language I've almost forgotten... Yeah, I forgot my native tongue... An idiot who doesn't really know any language properly."
Alex settles more comfortably in the chair and goes on. "It was hard for me to learn how to think in English. Mostly because of its structure... Words in a certain order... Sarah, it's tough. In my first language, I could switch words around any way I wanted and the meaning stayed the same... but here..." He sighs. "Anyway, I made friends with spoken English—I think in it, I have no accent... but writing still escapes me. If I started writing down this exact speech I'm giving now... I'd just get lost in 'to,' 'on,' 'in,' not to mention the complex stuff... That's why I suggested co-writing with Lila, but she won't... and actually all the pretty style in my books is Lila's work. And now Kate's decided to jump on some black rapper, and soon all Dreamside will know... I'm already a white crow in my own house—hating crowds and parties, with gossip about my… performance and equally small sexual experience, because before Kate I was..." He cuts off, as if afraid to say the word "virgin." Then he goes on. "And now I'm going to be a walking shame. Basically... I look like a pathetic fool right now, don't I?" He asks quietly, then falls silent, afraid to meet Sarah's eyes.
Sarah leans against the counter, arms still crossed as she listens. She studies Alex with an unreadable expression, her face neither pitying nor mocking. The kettle bubbles behind her, steam rising as the water heats.
"Pathetic?" She echoes the word softly, tilting her head. "No. I wouldn't say that." She pushes off the counter and moves to the stove, turning the heat down slightly as the water nears its peak.
"You're self-aware," she says as she reaches up to grab a tea tin from a high shelf. "That's more than most people can claim." She opens the tin and sniffs the contents before scooping leaves into a strainer.
"And frankly..." She pours the hot water over the strainer, steam rising between them as she continues. "I think you're selling yourself short."
Alex exhales slowly. He watches Sarah's hands as she prepares the tea, her movements precise and measured. The steam curls up, filling the space with heat and dampness. The fragrance of the tea—bergamot and citrus, crisp and clean—makes his nose twitch. "Madi said the same thing... and she'll say it again now." Alex sighs once more. "The truth is, Alexander Gonshorowski with all his thousand literary pseudonyms—that's a project of two women: Kate and Madi. Listen... I really didn't have problems. Almost none. Even with writing—Lila processed my texts like some neural network. And then Aria ruined it all yesterday morning, on Saturday. Four whole years—down the drain. But don't worry—I promise there won't be any panic attacks during our sessions." He gives a tired smile, still avoiding Sarah's eyes. "I haven't seen either Madi or Amy since yesterday morning... The three of us—me, Kate, and Lila—we're running away from Madi and Amy all over our damn mansion-estate, like some Chase Chaplin or Benny Hill comedy... But this can't go on for long. Anyway—let the supreme matriarchy of Château des Rêves sort itself out... I'm not involved at all—they just put me in front of the facts."
Sarah lets out a soft chuckle as she stirs the tea, the spoon clinking gently against the porcelain. She leans against the counter, her arms still folded but her posture more relaxed now.
"You make it sound like you're some tragic victim caught in a web of women's schemes," she says, amusement coloring her words. "But the thing is... you're not powerless, Alex." She sips her tea, watching him over the rim of her cup. "You could say no. You could decide not to go along with whatever game Kate and Brian are playing."
Alex picks up his cup of tea and sinks back into the chair.
Taking a sip, he sighs. "It's... complicated, Sarah," he says. "Kate and I aren't just some sweet couple of cute, talented creatives with Hollywood smiles and a ton of money. We've been through a lot… from hell to heaven. It's…" Tears start to rise in his throat, but he quickly pulls himself together. "Look, she didn't leave me, and I'm not leaving her. If something had changed in how she feels about me—I'd know. It's... it would just be a dick move, you know? Maybe I'm a hopeless romantic idiot, but I can't go against what I feel."
He exhales and takes another sip.
"Sorry for dumping all this shit on you. It's just… been a while since I talked to someone who'd actually listen instead of cracking jokes or teasing like Lila. Lila… she's amazing, but she's got what I call bikini-model occupational disorder."
Sarah smirks as she sips her tea, then sets the cup down with deliberate slowness. She watches Alex over the rim, fingers tapping lightly against the porcelain. "Bikini-model occupational disorder?" She chuckles and shakes her head. "That's a very Alex way of putting it."
She leans her hip against the counter and crosses her arms again. "You're right, though. Lila does have a way of making everything sound like a joke. It's kind of her charm."
Sarah's face softens as she watches Alex struggle for the right words. "But you know, I do listen. And I don't think you're an idiot for feeling the way you do."
Alex takes a sip of tea, sets the cup down, and folds his arms. "You know… it sounds like a joke, but one time Kate, Lila, and I went to a ski resort in Switzerland. That's when I realized I don't recognize Lila if she's wearing more than three pieces of clothing. What I'm saying is…"
Sarah lets out a soft laugh and shakes her head as she watches him fumble. She sips her tea slowly, fingers still tapping the porcelain. "Oh, I get it," she says with a grin. "Lila's a walking distraction, huh? Not exactly subtle about it either."
She leans back against the counter, arms still crossed. "But that's Lila for you. She's got this whole effortless thing going on. Like she's always in a music video or something."
She exhales through her nose and shakes her head slightly. "But I think you already knew that."
"Ha!" Alex chuckles. "Man… Anyway, about that trip… I found out I can't recognize Lila if she's wearing more than three pieces of clothing. There was this cute girl there, kind of Chinese-Malaysian looking, like Lila. I think she was Chinese-Malaysian, 'cause she looked just like our beloved Ms. Lila Chen. And you probably see where this is going. You know I've got that weird dynamic with Lila, right? So yeah—I got accused of hitting on that girl. Not by her, but by her husband."
Alex sighs and lets out another little laugh. "Can you imagine? Me, harassment? Now it's funny—but back then it really fucking wasn't. Not for me, not for Kate, not for the girl or her husband. But Lila… Lila thought it was hilarious even back then."
Sarah's lips twitch as she sets her tea down. She leans her hip against the counter with a soft sigh. "Sounds about right," she muses, tilting her head as she watches him. "Lila's the kind of person who finds humor in pretty much everything, even when it's not really funny."
She angles herself more directly toward him and crosses one leg over the other. "But you know what's kind of cute? The fact that you remember the girl looked like Lila. That's… interesting."
Alex rolls his eyes. "Oh god! Please don't start shipping me with Lila, Sarah!" He widens his eyes and bursts out laughing. "There's like fifty people back at the Château who get a kick out of calling us Lilex. And then it's all 'Oh what a gorgeous couple! So juicy and sweet, fucking under the guise of work!' or 'Mommy Kate found her Baby Boy such a cute little nanny!'… Or my personal favorite: 'White guy picks an Asian-looking assistant? Must be some stereotype bullshit!' Fucking hell, it's insane!"
Sarah chuckles and shakes her head as she watches the exasperation cross his face. She leans forward, resting her elbows on the counter. "Wow. So the gossip machine really went to town on that one, huh?" She lets out a soft laugh. "But honestly, Alex, that last one? I mean… I wouldn't be surprised if someone actually said that, but…"
She gestures vaguely in his direction. "You don't strike me as the kind of guy who needs to overcompensate for anything. Though I guess I wouldn’t really know.…" She raises an eyebrow with an impish grin.
Alex groans dramatically and throws his hands up. "Alright! Let's slowly start switching to English already…"
He sighs. "You probably need to see just how shitty my writing is first, right? Sorry for wasting your weekend like this… Lila can be very persuasive."
He runs a hand through his hair. "And then I have to go kiss Brian's ass in Beverly Hills by 3 PM… Jesus. What a fucking humiliation…"
Sarah exhales sharply through her nose, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. She pushes off from the counter and walks around to sit across from him, leaning her elbows on the table with an amused glint in her eye. "Oh, come on. It's not that bad. If you're getting drinks with someone, it's not like you're literally kissing their ass." She taps her fingers against the wooden surface. "Unless… that's something you're into? I didn't know you liked that kind of thing."
"Everyone in the world made a pact to roast me, huh?" Alex mutters, staring at her with that theatrical mix of defeat and sarcasm only he can pull off.
At some point during their talk, they've left the kitchen and moved to the couch in the living room, gradually switching to English like Sarah planned. She needed to assess just how bad his grammar really was—and the only way was to throw him in the deep end.
February 4, 2024, 12:40 PM, Dreamside, Sarah's house
Alex sits hunched forward on the couch, clutching a pillow like a life raft. A stack of grammar exercises lies scattered across the coffee table, most of them covered in red ink.
His voice cracks a little. "It's really bad, huh?"
There's this raw, almost pathetic vulnerability in his tone. This 29-year-old erotica writer—one of the wealthiest men in Dreamside—looks like a terrified schoolboy waiting for judgment.
Sarah leans back against the cushions, one leg folded beneath her, watching the struggle play across his face. Something about his complete lack of pretense is strangely endearing. He isn't trying to play it cool or pretend this isn't killing him.
She lets out a slow breath and taps her pen against the armrest. "Look, it's not terrible. But it's definitely rough around the edges." Her lips quirk into a half-smile. "If I saw this in class, I'd be like, 'Jesus, this guy's got potential, but he's fucking everything up.'"
"So?" Alex murmurs, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. "You gonna save the future of Californian erotica? And, you know… me?"
He glances sideways at her, his shoulder brushing hers. "What if Lila gets married or something? I'm screwed. Who's gonna edit all my smut then?"
He's sitting very close now.
Lila's plan seems to be working. This doesn't feel like an awkward tutoring session anymore. They're just talking. Joking. Teasing.
But hey, everything starts with a conversation, right?
Over the past hour there've been quite a few accidental brushes—fingertips grazing over notes, knees bumping under the table, a warm hand on his arm when he got frustrated.
Sarah exhales a soft laugh and shakes her head as she shifts toward him. Her knee bumps his thigh, and neither of them pulls away.
"Oh my god, Alex," she says, still chuckling. "You think I'm gonna be the one saving you?"
She angles her face, tucking a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear, and meets his gaze. Her blue eyes sparkle with mischief. "I'm just here to make fun of your mistakes."
She reaches for the nearest paper and flips it over so he can see her corrections. "Like this sentence right here—you used 'lay' when you meant 'lie.' That's like..." She trails off, biting her lip in mock thought. "It's like if I told you to 'sit down' when I really meant 'shut up.'"
Alex sighs and rubs the back of his neck.
"Yeah, homophones, right? Guess I just have to memorize that shit. Look—I'll try, okay? I don't wanna let you down. Or Lila."
He exhales again, slower this time.
"Hey, um… do you even come to our parties often? I was just thinking..."
He scrubs a hand down his face.
"Maybe it's my fault. I mean, I barely show up to the parties in my own house. The ones Kate throws. And yeah, I know... that's kinda pathetic."
His voice drops quieter.
"But Lila probably told you, right? About the panic attacks."
He swallows.
"When I see a crowd—especially if they're laughing—I get this thing in my head like... they're all laughing at me. 'Cause I'm not just some random guest. I'm the guy who owns the place. So people watch. They expect me to be charming, say the right things, look the part… and I just... shut down."
He shrugs, awkward.
"Kate handles it better. She used to be an actress, y'know? These days it's more painting and golf, but... yeah. I think she pulled back from acting partly 'cause of me."
Another sigh.
"I'm like that Russian guy—uh, Pelevin? Nobody's ever seen him. But at least he writes under his own name. And he writes real literature. Not... softcore nonsense."
Sarah tilts her head, studying him with an expression that's hard to read—warm, amused, maybe a little sympathetic. She shifts in her seat, her knee pressing more firmly against his thigh as she leans forward.
"Alex," she says, almost teasingly, "you write erotic novels, not Russian literature. And you do it really well."
Her fingers brush his wrist as she taps the manuscript. "Sure, your comma placement is questionable. But this? This is good. Really good."
She meets his gaze, her blue eyes sharp with challenge. "You're not some tragic artist, you know. You're selling books. People are reading this."
Alex lets out a small laugh. It's clear he's still struggling, but Sarah's words give him a little lift.
"'Tragic artist,' huh? Kate's the artist. Her paintings sell like hotcakes. She's also an amazing golfer, goes to actual championships and shit. Model agencies and Hollywood producers message her all the time... and she only agrees to stuff that doesn't mess with our personal schedule. She's an autodidact, and honestly... I think she's kind of a genius."
He runs a hand through his hair.
"And me? I'm good at writing softcore erotica. With grammar mistakes."
He glances at her, then down again.
"Look… I need to grow. At least in this. I swear, I'll write you a check for a couple million in advance if I have to…"
A pause. He exhales.
"I'm just... desperate."
Then he adds, sheepish:
"Uh… yeah. Something like that."
Sarah's face shifts with something unreadable—warm, teasing, just a little too interested. She leans back slightly, crossing her arms as her gaze sweeps over him with newfound curiosity.
"Oh, so you're desperate for my help?" Her voice is light, but there's an edge to it. She moves her knee just enough that it's no longer pressing against his leg, but her posture stays angled toward him, elbows on the table. "That sounds almost... needy, Alex."
She watches him intently, her fingers drumming once against the manuscript pages.
"And you know what I think of needy men, don't you?"
A slow smirk spreads across her face. Alex sinks into the couch, and Sarah—sitting close beside him—can feel how badly he wants to vanish into the floor.
"Shit..." he mutters, rubbing his face in embarrassment. "Yeah... fine. I'm a walking piece of nothing, inspiring nothing but pity. For the past four years, it's been women keeping me alive. Sure, maybe I'm a great erotic writer—but I make serious grammar mistakes. If it weren't for Lila cleaning up after me... I mean, what now—do I deserve to be shot for it? I just... God…"
A wave of heat wells up inside him, the unmistakable signal of panic closing in.
He trembles slightly, mouth opening with effort.
"Um... I..."
Sarah's hand moves without thinking, covering his before he can bury it in his hair again. Her fingers are cool against his wrist, pressing down just enough to keep him from retreating into himself.
"Alex," she says, deliberately keeping her tone light, "you're not inspiring pity. You're inspiring anxiety, and not just in yourself." She tilts her head, studying his reaction. "I've seen people write bad fiction, and you're not one of them. You write sex really well. Like, really well."
Her thumb moves in small circles against the inside of his wrist, an unconscious gesture that relaxes him instantly.
"And you don't need to pay me a million dollars." Her smile turns sly. "Maybe not in cash," she adds, watching his reaction with sharp focus. "But I am a woman who real effort. Dedication. The way a man really tries."
She turns her hand just slightly, fingers sliding between his. Not quite a handhold, but not a rejection either.
"And you know what? I think you might actually be fun to work with. Fun to push." She moves closer, just an inch, enough to invade his space. "What do you think about that, Alex? Does that make you nervous?" she asked, her voice dropping lower.
He swallows hard, his throat bobbing visibly.
"I..." Then he pulls himself together—but doesn't pull away from her.
"Okay... if that's what it takes—I'll put in the effort. You've got my number... just send the homework on WhatsApp or..." He trails off, voice low and uncertain, eyes lingering on her hands. Then his gaze drifts slowly to her chest, hidden beneath the soft white T-shirt.
"Hm..." He stretches his neck and speaks again, more confidently this time. "Anyway, I gotta swing by home first, then head to Brian's... Ahem... Look, if I was off today—I'll do better next time. No need to rat me out to Lila like I'm a total idiot, yeah?" He chuckles.
Sarah's fingers tighten around his wrist just slightly, enough to keep him from pulling away completely. Her other hand lifts to push a strand of hair behind her ear, the movement casual but deliberate. She's enjoying this—his discomfort, the way he keeps glancing toward her body before forcing himself to meet her eyes.
"Oh, I don't think you're an idiot, Alex," she says, her words flowing smooth as honey. "But Lila deserves to know you're alive and well. Wouldn't want her worrying." Sarah shifts closer, her knee brushing against his thigh. "Besides... she'd be very disappointed if I let you get away with being a bad student."
Alex swallows again, his throat working visibly. Then he sighs and speaks quietly—not pulling away from her, but not moving toward her either.
"Look... today's just not the day... And I'm not really in a position to resist—tell Lila whatever you want. It's just..." He glances at her lazily, awkwardly: her long chestnut hair, the white T-shirt hugging her slim figure and small, pretty breasts, the blue pants. He even notices the faint outline of a white bra beneath the shirt.
He looks away as he continues.
"To be honest—I don't want to go to Brian's at 3 PM today, but... if I don't go, it'll only get worse, right? Do you think I should've told Kate 'no' yesterday? For the first time in four years? I... don't know what would've happened then. I'm afraid that hurricane of events would've torn my little house to pieces before it even landed anywhere in Oz..."
Sarah's fingers tighten around his wrist, not cruelly but with deliberate pressure. Her dark eyes flicker with something unreadable as she watches his hesitations, his glances at her body. She moves her knee against his thigh again—not forcing contact, but close enough that he can feel the heat through his loose gray pants. A slow, knowing smile curves her face.
"Oz... I like that," she murmurs, shifting closer. Her other hand comes up to toy with the hem of his T-shirt, fingers brushing against his stomach as she tugs the fabric just slightly. "Alex the Scarecrow, huh? You know the Cowardly Lion is my favorite."
Alex doesn't move. He just rolls his eyes.
"Aaaaaand I see what you're doing... Look — I'm somewhere between the Scarecrow and the Lion. But definitely not the Tin Man. And… I can't say no. I haven't said no in four years... I don't want to go back to who I was before Dreamside and Kate. Back then, all I ever did was say no... And... fuck, Sarah... Just teach me grammar, okay? Even if it takes a hundred damn lessons."
Then—for the first time—he moves, shifting a little closer to her, but making it clear it's out of pure desperation, almost like pleading for help.
"Fuck... God, Kate, Brian, you and Lila... it's too much..." he whispers tiredly. "Shit, and when Amy and Madi find out... maybe they already have..."
Sarah's fingers tighten around his wrist, not in a punishing grip but with the firmness of someone who refuses to let him spiral. She studies him with knowing dark eyes—she doesn't pity him, doesn't coddle him, but watches him with an expression that says she sees through him completely.
"You're catastrophizing," she says simply, her voice still quiet but lacking any softness. She shifts even closer, her knee pressing more firmly against his thigh now, the heat of her body radiating through the thin fabric of his pants. "You've got a problem with Kate and Brian, and you're dragging all these other people into it as an excuse not to deal with them."
Alex lets out a heavy sigh.
"I dragged Lila into this... Lila dragged you in... And Madi and Amy—they always somehow find a way to insert themselves into my mess. I swear, it's like they're using me to practice being moms or something..."
He sighs again, but this time there's a lighter tone to it, almost amused.
"Anyway... being my tutor is one thing. Being my personal therapist—that's another. And honestly, this isn't even about Brian. It's just me and Kate. Look... it'll be fine. I'll talk to him. Something like: 'Yeah, I'm that writer guy whose mansion you've been partying in for the last few months—feel free to fuck my girlfriend, it's all good.' Pretty standard conversation for two spoiled California boys, right?"
He slowly gets up, accidentally brushing Sarah's knee, chest, and arm with his hand in the process.
"Hey... thanks... I mean it... I'll be looking forward to our next lesson. Hopefully it lasts a bit longer this time, so... you know..."
He trails off, embarrassed. Sarah watches him with a knowing smirk as he fumbles over his words, the way his fingers twitch nervously before he finally pulls away. She doesn't get up right away. She just stays on the couch, giving him the space he clearly needs while refusing to let him run off entirely.
"Sure, Alex. Next time we'll go longer," she says, her voice teasing but carrying something more serious underneath. "And yeah, I know it's not just about Brian. It's about Kate, it's about control, it's about all the little ways you're convincing yourself this is simpler than it is."
Alex rolls his eyes.
"It's all about Aria." He pulls his phone out and checks the time. "12:47 PM. Shit. I really gotta go. Thanks for the lesson. And... the talk. I need to stop by home, then head to Brian's—otherwise I won't make it by 3 PM."
Sarah leans back against the couch cushions, stretching her arms along the backrest. Her fingers brush the spot where Alex had been sitting, still warm from him. She watches him with half-lidded eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"Going to see your girlfriend's boyfriend, huh?" she says, her voice teasing but edged with something else—curiosity, maybe, or sympathy. "You ever think about what you're really doing there, Alex?"
Alex chuckles.
"'My girlfriend's boyfriend'? You're starting to lose your filter, huh?" He laughs again, crossing his arms. Then his tone shifts, softer and warmer. "Look, I'm not a total idiot. I get what's going on. Lila didn't just talk you into tutoring me—she talked you into being my shrink too, right? She convinced you last night, didn't she? We haven't talked much before... unfortunately. Even though you're a friend of Lila, who's my friend and assistant. Which is kind of weird. But..."
He pauses, choosing his words carefully. "I'm not saying I don't want to talk about it. I'm grateful you want to help. It's just that you don't understand my dynamic with Kate. Four years ago, I could've..." He sighs nervously. "Look, I'm not blaming you. It's just a fact: you weren't around back then, but Kate was. And she liked me. She decided to be with me, even though I was just a useless, pathetic piece of shit back then. And now you're hinting I should dump her just because she decided to spend some time with another guy? I'm worried because this is all new to me. And yeah—I'm emotional about it—but that doesn't mean I'm gonna jump off a bridge or start doing drugs tomorrow."
He sighs quietly.
"Fuck... Sorry if that sounded harsh. I'm not blaming you at all. You're an awesome girl. It's just that Lila spent almost all day yesterday, from 8 AM to 4 PM, calming me down after that talk with Aria. Then Kate came back from the gallery. I spent the whole evening and night with her—we sorted everything out. Now you're trying... I don't know what you're trying. God, why does everyone think I have real problems when I'm just trying to share my fears? Sarah, don't worry—I'll be fine, I promise."
He clears his throat and adds, "And yeah—he's not my girlfriend's boyfriend yet. Just a friend. Nothing happened between them so far."
Sarah tilts her head slightly, watching him with an amused glint in her eye. She doesn't move from the couch, stretching her legs out comfortably as she props one ankle over the other.
"Wow," she says, drawing the word out. "You really do sound like a man who's in control of his life right now, Alex." Her smirk widens when she sees his shoulders tense. "So if everything's fine and you're totally cool with this Brian situation, why are you here? Why did Lila need to badger me into tutoring you when you're clearly handling everything like a pro?"
She leans forward slightly, resting her arms on her knees. Alex sighs heavily.
"Shit... I'm not saying I'm handling everything..." He rubs his face with both hands. "First Aria fucked with me all morning, triggering that fucking thing. Then Lila, under the guise of helping. Now you. I'm not handling everything. I'm not handling grammar. It'd be really great if you could teach me that. But please—let's stick to grammar for now, okay? The only girl who's not fucking with my head is Kate. If Kate had told me all this shit yesterday instead of Aria, I wouldn't have had this whole nervous breakdown."
He lowers his hands and looks at Sarah.
"Just say your opinion straight. No beating around the bush. I'll take it seriously, I promise. For now let's focus on grammar. Say what you think and I'll go. Or say it while you're walking me to the door."
Sarah smirks as she leans back into the couch cushions, stretching her arms over the back in a relaxed sprawl. She watches Alex carefully, her blue eyes flickering with amusement as he rubs his face in frustration. There's something almost adorable about the way he's squirming under all this attention—like a nervous puppy who knows he's being teased but doesn't quite know how to handle it. She crosses one leg over the other slowly, deliberately, letting the silence stretch just a beat too long before she speaks.
"You're a mess, Alex," she says plainly, her tone light but pointed. "And you're not nearly as in control of this situation as you want to be."
Alex stands silent and listens. Sarah continues, her voice softening just slightly. "But I get it. You love her. And she's amazing—most of the time." Sarah's fingers drum lightly against the back of the couch, her expression thoughtful. "But you're scared, Alex. And I don't mean scared of her—though I'm sure that's part of it."
She tilts her head, studying him with those knowing blue eyes. "You're scared of losing her. That's why you're here. If you get better at this writing thing, if you can prove to her you're improving, then maybe... maybe it won't happen."
Alex claps his hands with a poker face.
"Bravo! We have a winner in the game of 'Who Wants to Know All of Alex's Complexes.' And now I gotta go. It's about a two-hour drive to Beverly, and I still need to swing by home first. Let's not keep my girlfriend's boyfriend waiting."
He heads for the door. Sarah chuckles, stretching out her legs as she watches him walk away. She doesn't get up right away. The silence stretches just long enough to make him glance back over his shoulder. She raises an eyebrow. "Aw, come on, Alex. You're not even gonna say goodbye properly?"
There's a teasing lilt in her voice, but something sharper underneath. She's enjoying the game, yet genuinely curious about his reaction.
Alex laughs and keeps backing toward the door, swinging his phone above his head.
"Why say goodbye when we're just starting to see each other, Sarah? Sarah—I love you! As a tutor! Text me on WhatsApp, Signal, wherever! I'm ready to meet every damn day! And thanks for finally clearing up the difference between 'lay' and 'lie!'"
He stops in the doorway and turns to look at her.
"You'll have time for another grammar lesson after school tomorrow, right? Just no Kate and Brian this time. Just you, me, and English grammar. Cool?" He says it warmly, with a hint of flirt.
Sarah lets out a slow, amused breath and unfolds herself from the couch with deliberate grace. She stretches her arms above her head, arching her back slightly to emphasize the curve of her body, then drops them. She strolls toward him with casual ease and stops just within arm's reach in the doorway.
"That depends," she says, her voice dipping into something teasing and conspiratorial. "You gonna be on your best behavior? Or am I gonna have to drag answers out of you like last time?"
Alex chuckles, shifting his weight from foot to foot, but his eyes linger on her a moment too long. "Well… I'm not a native English speaker, so don't be too hard on this dumb third-world export." He gives her an exaggerated once-over—head to toe—his gaze deliberately pausing on her small but pretty tits, the tight white T-shirt doing little to hide the white bra underneath. He's being obviously silly, and he knows it.
"Grammar only—nothing more, okay? I'm still Kate's guy. And I know you Canadians—you once burned down Washington! I mean the city, not George. Though I bet you'd burn him too. So let's keep our flirting inside the borders of respect and international law, as ChatGPT would say."
Alex steps outside but glances back.
"And hey—you're from Vancouver, right? Do people there all speak French? Do you speak French? 'Cause after we're done with English grammar… I mean… I just thought I might need some French to translate my own books someday. I don't think translators really capture the soul of my erotica in French…"
He makes his way to the Tesla parked in front of her house. Sarah leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching him. She tilts her head with a playful smirk. "Oh, you're already planning to break the rules, huh? Guess I shouldn't be surprised. You've always been a little slippery with the lines."
She steps out onto the porch, letting the door click shut behind her.
"And yeah, I speak French. Évidemment." She straightens up, rolling her shoulders back as she moves closer, forcing him to pause by his car. "But I don't think you're asking about my French skills right now, are you?"
"Oh no, no! Of course not, Ms. Cote! That's not what I meant, Ms. Cote! Please don't take me to the principal's office, Ms. Cote! Don't call my parents, Ms. Cote!"
Alex cries out in a high-pitched voice, eyes wide, mimicking a panicked teenager. Then he chuckles and drops back to normal. "Do you hear that sort of thing often, being the administrative assistant for the art class at Dreamside High? Or is that more of a teacher thing?"
Sarah rolls her eyes, but the smirk stays. She moves past him toward the Tesla, brushing against his side—just enough contact to remind him she's there. "Oh, I get my fair share," she says, turning to face him once she reaches the passenger door. She taps a finger against the glass. "Some kids are just easier to rile up than others. The ones who get defensive about the tiniest corrections? They're the funniest."
She raises an eyebrow, shifting her weight onto one hip as she looks him up and down. "And I'd say you fall into that category. You seem awfully protective of your... English skills."
"Oh, absolutely!" Alex laughs, opening the car door.
"And… before I go—just one question. I could ask this anytime, really… but I'm too damn curious…"
He looks at her, green eyes meeting blue.
"Why just the administrative assistant in the art class? You could totally be a teacher."
Sarah smiles, but something in her face shifts—there's a weight to it now. She tilts her head slightly, tapping her fingers against the Tesla's doorframe. "Oh, that's an easy question," she says, voice light but measured. "I like the flexibility."
She leans against the car, crossing her arms under her chest. "The hours aren't terrible, the kids don't hate me, and I get to work with artists. But mostly..." She pauses, her gaze flickering up to meet his before dropping again. "I like being the person who decides when I get involved. If a teacher starts messing around with a student's work, they're always looking over their shoulder."
Alex's face lights up with genuine concern.
"Sarah? Are you okay? You said that like it's been weighing on you..."
He shuts the car door and steps closer, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Look… you and I haven't talked that much and… I mean, you're Lila's friend…"
He shifts his weight from foot to foot.
"If you want—I won't go see Brian. I'll reschedule. Just tell me what's going on. Maybe I can't fix my own mess. But maybe I can fix yours."
Sarah lets out a soft, almost incredulous laugh, but doesn't pull away from his touch. If anything, she leans slightly into it. She looks up at him, blue eyes searching his face with quiet intensity.
"Alex," she murmurs. "You really don't need to worry about me." She shakes her head, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "But I appreciate it."
Her fingers trail along the Tesla's doorframe before she steps away, just out of his reach. "You know what?" She exhales, rolling her shoulders back as if shedding some unseen weight. "You're right." She reaches into her pocket, pulls out her phone, taps the screen a few times, and holds it up. "I actually do need to do something for my school. A new art program needs funding. It's not much—just a few hundred bucks to buy supplies."
She looks at him expectantly, tilting her head. "You wouldn't happen to have a few extra dollars lying around, would you?"
Alex pulls his phone from his pocket and opens his banking app.
"Give me your details, Sarah. Just give me your info."
His voice is low but firm, almost pleading.
"I'm fucking sick of everyone around me getting dragged down by bullshit. Fuck… just give me your info."
Sarah watches him for a long moment. Something unreadable flickers across her face before she exhales through her nose—half amused, half resigned. She steps closer. Her fingers brush his wrist as she angles her phone to show him her banking information. The screen lights up with her name and the app details.
Alex taps quickly on his own screen with his thumb, glancing between the two phones.
A few seconds later, a notification pops up on hers:
$10,000 transferred from Alexander Gonshorowski.
"Is that enough? Did I fix at least one of your problems?"
Alex looks at her, eyes full of concern.
"If you need anything else—just say it."
Sarah freezes, staring down at her phone with wide eyes. The notification stays visible for a long moment before she blinks, mouth slightly parted. She looks up at him, caught between disbelief and bewilderment.
"Holy shit," she breathes, shaking her head. "Alex… you didn't have to do that."
She swallows, fingers tightening around her phone like she needs to make sure it's real. Her gaze searches his face for any sign of hesitation or regret. There isn't one.
Alex slips his phone back into his pocket.
"It's a bit more than a few hundred bucks," he mutters. "But I figured I'd send extra, just in case…"
He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes for a second, then looks at her again.
"If anything else comes up—just tell me, okay?"
He heads for his car door, then turns back and pulls her into a quick hug.
As he walks to the car, he tries to sound Chenrful, but his voice shakes just a little.
"If anything happens—text me! You've got my info! And I've got yours! I promise not to flood our chats with too many dumb memes!"
He slips into his Tesla and drives off.
Sarah stands there, watching the car disappear down the street. She exhales slowly, shaking her head as she stares at the empty space where it had been. Her fingers curl tighter around her phone, clutching it like a lifeline.
Ten thousand dollars. Just like that.
She brings the phone up again, double-checking the notification as if it might vanish. But it's still there. Real.
A soft laugh escapes her, disbelief coloring her words. "Holy shit, Alex…"
She taps the screen a few times, pulling up the transfer details. She can't stop smiling. It's not just the money—it's the way he gave it. Like it was nothing. Like he didn't even have to think about it.
Sarah shakes her head again, tucking her phone into her pocket with a breathy chuckle. She feels giddy, almost lightheaded, like she's been handed a golden ticket to fix whatever mess she's in. Her grin widens as she turns and starts walking back toward her house.
"He's such a weirdo," she mutters to herself, but there's no real malice in it. Just fondness.
The quick, almost shy hug he gave her before leaving settles warm in her chest.