Tutoring
1135 Words
I immediately start organizing the study materials we are going to need for the tutoring session, and along with them, I tidy up my room as soon as I get upstairs. A while later, I head back downstairs only to realize that Mom is home.
Today she is dressed in a green dress that complements her figure quite well. However, she doesn’t look good at all, and my heart drops because my mom is not the kind of person to wear her emotions on her face. If she isn’t even bothering to hide them today, then it must be bad.
“Hey, Mom. Good evening. What’s wrong?” I say as I move toward her and give her a one-armed hug.
“Just the usual, baby. How was school?” she asks, giving me a wan smile, her beautiful brown eyes dull.
“The clients are being difficult again?” I ask knowingly.
“Yep.”
“Why can’t you just drop them?”
“We already signed a contract, baby. I can’t just go back on it.”
“I sometimes wish you were a bit unprincipled, you know. I hate seeing you like this,” I say with a sigh.
“But baby, it’s my principles that have made me who I am today. I can’t just drop them because of a few indecisive idiots.”
Her use of abusive language makes me raise an eyebrow since my mom is the kind of person who never curses no matter the situation.
“Baby, you didn’t tell me how your day was though,” she adds, looking at me.
“He is tutoring Ryan,” Dad says from the kitchen, and I jump slightly since I hadn’t even noticed him there.
“Ohhhh…” Mom says, the lilt in her voice making me blush.
“Mom, it’s just tutoring,” I mutter while rubbing my ear.
“He has been organizing his room since we came back,” Dad supplies helpfully from the kitchen, and Mom immediately dissolves into a fit of giggles. I just stand there knowing my face is probably as red as a monkey’s butt by now.
“Dad…” I groan, glaring at him.
He raises his hands as though surrendering. That guy is more gossipy than an old woman.
“Help me set the table,” he says when he notices I’m still standing there.
I immediately get to it, and soon we are having dinner. I rush through my meal and make my way upstairs after helping Dad clear the dishes.
Not long later, I hear the doorbell ring. I step out just in time to see Dad opening the door for Ryan.
The moment Ryan walks in, I am immediately starstruck because that boy has a face even the Olympian gods would be jealous of. He is dressed in grey joggers, a black T-shirt, and a grey hooded sweater. His hair looks like he has been running his hands through it, messy in the best possible way.
Dad looks up and notices me staring. He loudly clears his throat, and I blush furiously.
“Come on up,” I mumble before rushing back to my room.
He comes upstairs a few minutes later, and the first thing I notice is the fact that he smells good. I inhale discreetly and immediately sigh at how much I have missed his scent.
Before our breakup—if you can even call it that—we used to spend time at each other’s houses all the time, so I got used to his presence. It wasn’t until we drifted apart that I realized how much I missed him and every little thing about him.
“Take a seat over there,” I say, pointing toward my study table.
He walks over and gingerly sits down as though he’s afraid he might break the chair. I just roll my eyes at him before taking a seat opposite him.
“So, we’re going to start with Literature. Have you read any novels?” I ask.
“No.”
“You do realize the novel list was given before we broke off for the holidays, right?”
“I know. But I’ve been busy.”
“Busy avoiding me?” I ask with a raised brow.
He seems startled. I am not one for confrontation, but Ryan seems to bring it out of me in abundance.
“Don’t flatter yourself. Just football stuff,” he says with a shrug.
The fact that he’s saying all this while looking everywhere except at me is irritating.
“You do know my face is in front of you and not over there, right?” I say.
He looks at me briefly before glancing away just as fast.
“Well, since you haven’t read any novels, we can’t continue with Literature. So pick a novel and read it so we can handle it in our next session.”
I move to stand up, but his hand immediately shoots out to catch mine. I look down at it because it has been a long time since his skin touched mine. The spot where he touches me seems to spark, and he appears to feel it too because he lets go almost immediately.
“We can do something else,” he says, still looking everywhere except at me.
I get him some Math test papers.
“Do these ones then,” I say.
The rest of the session goes by like that, with me correcting him whenever he struggles. A while later, I check the time and realize we have spent over two hours working through the Math papers.
“It’s almost 10 p.m., so you should start heading home,” I say.
He looks disoriented, as though he hadn’t expected that much time to have passed.
“Okay.”
“When will you be free again?” I ask.
“I can come tomorrow as well,” he says while packing up his stuff.
“Okay then. We’ll handle History tomorrow, and the day after that we’ll do Literature, so select a novel tonight and start reading,” I tell him. “Same time tomorrow.”
“No problem. I’ll pick the smallest one first.”
“Okay. Text me when you get home, yeah…” I say while walking him out, then immediately freeze because that used to be our tradition back when we were friends, and I don’t know if it still counts now that we are… whatever this is.
“Sure,” he replies like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
“Lock the door on your way out,” I tell him as he heads downstairs.
I hear the door close, and I fall back onto my bed, grinning like a fool.
- Writer
