“Sounds like the start of every high school romance movie plot.” He smirks before walking his fingers over to my plate. “May I?” Ignoring the flurry of butterflies making waves in my stomach, I nod. “Yes, and it’s a recycled plot because it works.” Before I started tutoring Eli, we’d bonded in the hall over our shared love of eighties movies. Most of them were comedies, but quite a few were romantic. He shrugs and pops one of my fries into his mouth. “I see. So is this the part of the movie where the jock and his quiet tutor fall for each other? Over shared fries and math problems?” I’m
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