5 Years Ago
I was failing World History. I know, sad, right? And it was senior year of high school so my parents hired me a private tutor. If I didn’t pass that class, I wouldn’t get to walk with my friends at graduation, and I’d have to spend all summer hitting the books instead of heading out to pursue my dream in California.
Academics weren’t my strong suit, and it was even harder to focus those days. I just couldn’t keep my nose in a book. The parties were endless, every little thing was a reason to celebrate. And the guys were relentless. Everyone wanted to get drunk and punch their v-cards before they headed off to college. I still hadn’t punched mine at the time, but it wasn’t because I was a stuck-up prude. I just hadn’t found the right guy… yet.
According to my parents, the guy who was tutoring me was actually in my history class, though for the life of me I couldn’t remember ever actually seeing him there.
“What did you say your name was again?” I asked him.
We were sitting at the table in my parents’ dining room. I accidentally brushed my arm against his when we sat down and he nearly jumped three feet out of his skin. So I “accidentally” brushed my arm against his once more and giggled inwardly as he jerked away from me. I still couldn’t tell if he was totally repulsed or not but the faces he made were hilarious.
“Brett,” he huffed and brushed his brown hair out of his eyes. It was a little too long and overdue for a trim, but there was just something about the way that it fell into his eyes that was adorable.
I can’t believe I never noticed him before… he’s cute in a dorky way.
He cracked open his book and started flipping through the pages. I didn’t even touch mine, I turned in my chair to face him instead.
He was tall and lanky, but there was promise there beneath his unruly hair and boring baggy clothes.
“And you’re in Ms. Henry’s sixth period?”
“Yeah,” he answered, frowning down at his book and brushing his hair out of his eyes again.
I leaned close to him and peeked over his arm at his book. “Is that what we’re working on?”
“Yeah, page three-forty-eight,” he answered, leaning away from me. “Global conflicts.”
I leaned back and we stared at each other. The prettiest eyes stared back at me, like melted chocolate swirled with honey and framed by long dark lashes.
“Are you going to open your book?” he asked, breaking the stare.
I groaned, remembering that he was there to tutor me and not to hang out. “Do I have to?”
He smiled. “If you want to pass this class you do.”
I huffed, blowing a few blonde curls into the air and opened my book. The spine was super stiff, I don’t think I had actually opened that book before, so I had to press the cover down extra hard towards the table.
“What page was that again?”
“Three-forty-eight,” Brett answered with a smirk and I grumbled until I reached the right page.
Brett started talking about world wars, allies, nationalism, and other yawn-inducing stuff I didn’t care about at the time. I liked the sound of his voice though. So even if I wasn’t completely focusing on everything he was trying to teach me, I was listening. Just not absorbing the material.
“There will probably be a pop quiz tomorrow,” Brett said, closing his book.
I blinked in surprise. I went total space cadet and it took me a second to realize what he was talking about. “How do you know?”
I mean the whole idea of a pop quiz is that it was supposed to be a surprise, right?
“Ms. Henry has been springing them on us every other Thursday.”
Shit. Tomorrow was Thursday.
“I’m so screwed,” I bemoaned and slumped back in my chair.
“I’m that bad, eh?” Brett frowned, and I quickly shook my head at him while sitting up straight again.
“No, it’s not you!” I insisted.