An unpleasant surprise.
1354 Words
Samantha’s POV.
I have never been the pretty friend or the girl who hides love letters from numerous boys from their parents—you know, the type guys pull over for.
I've always been the nerd, the girl with coffee stains on her notes and thighs that rubbed together in gym class. Plump, clumsy, invisible, comfortable being overlooked until now.
The air conditioner was on full blast against my skin, but the cool air coming out of the vent couldn't shake the heat simmering inside me. Maybe it's just my nerves, or the way the sun looked like it was about to cook me alive.
“Chill out, b***h, you would do fine, I promise,” Cassie said behind the wheel as she drove me to my first tutoring session. Cassie, my best friend since high school, is the kind of girl who makes heads turn without even trying. The complete opposite of me.
“I know,” I sighed, staring out of the window, watching the blur of cars and trees pass by. My throat felt dry, and the words came out empty.
I hadn’t tutored anyone since the incident in high school that turned me from scholarship girl into a punchline overnight.
The day I would never forget.
But now, here I was giving it another try, because I had no choice.
After submitting an application for the job, only one person reached out to me, offering fifty dollars per hour. Not my best bet, but still, I took it.
I had on a borrowed skirt and a tight-fitted top, which made my boobs pop up at the top like they were auditioning for their own reality TV show. Headed to some spoiled kids' house who probably never learned to pick up after themselves because the maid did it for them.
“Relax, you look like you are about to pass out.” Her eyes were still fixed on the road, a grin plastered on her face, and her blond hair was flowing with the wind.
“Who knows, your student might be hot,” she winked.
“Yeah, right, and what does that have to do with me?” I rolled my eyes as a little smile tugged at the corner of my lips.
“We are here.”
We pulled up in front of a house that looked like it belonged on the cover of Dream Homes Weekly.
White columns, a sprawling porch, and cars that probably cost more than our entire rent debt.
My stomach flipped. “My God, I can't do this.”
“Yes, you can,” Cassie said, throwing the gear into park and unbuckling her seat belt. “Bills don’t pay themselves. And honestly? Nerdy hot tutors. Baby, that's totally a fantasy. Live my dream for me. Uggh.”
Yes, bills don't pay themselves, and neither do overdue notices or the final warning taped to our fridge.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to get out, clutching my books to my chest for moral support.
“Catch you later, bestie. I will need all the tea.”
She turned on the engine and pulled out of the driveway before I could cling to her leg and beg her to stay.
“Take me with you,” I murmured, mostly to myself rather than anyone in particular.
I stood there till the red corolla disappeared.
The house loomed in front of me.
I took a deep breath and brisk steps to the door.
By the time I had reached the front door, my palms were sweaty. I wiped one hand against my skirt before clutching my books again like they were some kind of shield.
I knocked once, and before I could knock the second time, the door flung open.
And then, for a second, I forgot how to breathe.
He wasn’t what I expected. Not even close.
He was tall, easily six feet, with broad
Shoulders that filled the doorway as he owned it. His dark hair was messy in that intentional way, falling across his forehead just enough to frame a pair of storm-gray eyes that seemed to strip the air straight out of the room.
He leaned casually on the door with his hand shoved into his pockets, like he didn’t have a care in the world.
He was the kind of guy I would never, ever belong in the same room with.
And then, my stomach dropped.
Because I did know him.
Alec Bannister.
The high school bully, the boy who had made my life hell.
My jaw dropped, and my heart pounded against my ribs. The urge to spin on my heel and run was overwhelming. It took every ounce of self-control I had, every shred of willpower, to keep my knees from buckling.
For a second, his smile faltered. Like he hadn’t been expecting me either. Then he grinned, exposing a perfectly white set of teeth and a dimple.
Oh, how I hated that grin. I hated it as much as I hated the fact that my stomach twisted a little at the sight of it. It brought back too much: the locker shoves, the teasing, and the cruel pranks that everyone else thought were funny.
“Well, well… Samantha Hayes. Didn’t think I’d see you again, unless it was in the library hiding behind your glasses.”
I gripped my books tighter. This time, Alec Bannister wasn’t going to win.
“You?” I snapped, disgust written all over my face. “I am not doing this!”
I turned to walk away.
My stride was more confident than I was.
“Sam!” He called out to me, but I wasn't listening. I walked till I passed his gate.
I didn't know where I was going, but as long as it was farther away from him.
I stopped at the cafe. Clutching my books tighter against my chest as I made my way to an empty seat that was isolated.
I collapsed on it, finally allowing myself to breathe.
What the actual f*ck! Banister?
I reached into my bag, which I had slung behind me, and gulped down a full bottle of water.
The memories came spilling in.
That day at the school’s cafeteria. I had worn a white gown and was more than happy to deliver my presentation to the whole class after the lunch break.
The lunch lady scooped a spoonful of soup into my bowl.
I walked towards the direction where Cassie sat, waving at me.
I didn't know I had done it, just a slight brush of his feet. I wasn't even looking.
I heard a voice from behind: “Are you going to let that slide?”
When I reached the table and looked up, there he was, Alec.
Cassie smiled at him, but I didn't.
Oh no, what is it this time?
“Hey scholarship girl, you stepped on my feet,” he muttered.
“I am so sorry…” I began, but he already tilted the bowl of soup over my head.
I gasped.
The crowd laughed. Cassie’s hands were slung over her mouth.
I looked up at him, for guilt, remorse, or anything, but all I saw was a wide grin on his face before he walked away.
He had made an enemy that day; my presentation was canceled.
My phone flashed with messages.
“Sam, can we talk, please?”
“I really need this.”
“Come back.”
I ignored them all.
Then he sent the last message.
“I will double it, Sam, a hundred dollars per hour.”
My eyes widened. Was he that desperate? I thought for a second.
I couldnt get this kind of offer anywhere, and he was the only one who indicated interest.
The memory of Mom’s tired face, the stack of bills, and the eviction notice flashed through my mind. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes.
For the money, that was it. This didn't mean forgiveness.
I sighed and reached for my phone typing into the keyboard.
“Triple it”
Then I hit send.
- Writer
