“I’m not propositioning you.” I hear the defensive indignation in my voice. “I’m offering you a business proposal. I am not paying you for sex. I am paying you to be my tutor.” Even to me that sounds pedantic. “I’m dealing with unfamiliar material and I’d be willing to pay you for your expertise.”

“Okay, where are the cameras?” he asks, glancing around the room. “This is campus hidden camera or something, right? Someone is going to pop out and…” The dead serious look on my face tells him it’s not. “This has to be a joke. A prank. Who put you up to it? Drew?”

I shake my head and reply in complete seriousness, “I don’t know a Drew. And I thought jokes were supposed to be funny.”

“Holy shit. You’re serious?”

His amusement is fading now. Apprehension rises in his expression. I’ve made him feel awkward. I think that might be my secret superpower.

Captain Awkward.

“Yes.”

“You’re going to pay me to have sex with you?”

“To teach me how to have sex.” I continue to emphasize that point, unsure if the semantics matter to anyone but me.

“By actually having sex…” He isn’t asking a question—he’s throwing the bullshit flag.

“A certain amount of physical intimacy will be expected, yes.”

He covers his face with his hands, shakes his head slowly and lets out a sigh. I can’t tell if he’s considering my offer or wondering how fast he can get a restraining order.

“I know this is an unusual proposition, but I think it could benefit both of us.”

Almost immediately I’m aware of my mistake. His eyes lock on mine. They’re filled with smugness.

“Bad word choice. Not a proposition. A business proposal.”

“You can’t be serious. Five thousand dollars?”

I can almost see the wheels turning in his head.

He’s considering it.

My stomach flips. I’m not sure if this is terror or excitement.

“Five thousand dollars. Three nights a week for a month. I think we could really help each other out.”

He traces his gaze up my body before coming to rest on my face. He’s staring into my eyes, judging my commitment. For a brief moment I think I’ve got him, that this idea isn’t crazy.

Then, the bubble bursts.

“This is getting a little too weird for me. I think you’ve watched Pretty Woman a few too many times,” he says as he stands and packs up his books. He won’t look at me.

“Is that a no?” I hate the amount of hurt I hear in my own voice.

“That’s going to be a hard no. It was nice to meet you, Elizabeth.” He reaches out his hand.

I don’t take it. I scribble my number on the page of a notebook he hasn’t put away yet.

“In case you change your mind.” I slap the notebook into his open hand and watch him turn and walk away.

Well, that was a crushing defeat.

At least I got the last word. After I watch him leave, I take a few minutes to slam my head on the table, muttering to myself about how stupid I am. Once I’m satisfied with my self-inflicted punishment and before I gather too many stares, I make my way out of the library and back home to sulk in private at my humiliation.