Little Miss Nosy

Chapter Two: How Cheesy

-Edited-

"Your introduction needs a hook. It can be a quote, but if I remember correctly Mr. K prefers a question that you'll answer somewhere in the essay. This paragraph shouldn't be too long, but it should be short or long enough for the reader to understand what points they'll walk away from after reading. The last sentence of your introduction should transition into your first body paragraph—Nick?" 

Our cubicle of the tutoring room has gone too quiet. Nick usually taps his foot on the linoleum tile flooring, or beats his pencil against the desk to express his irritation at my rambling. But when I look up, he's staring straight ahead like the wall has him in a trance. 

"Nick?" I repeat poking his arm with the eraser side of my pencil. 

His voice is low as he says, "I'm so..." Suddenly, his eyes find mine. Now the hazel color burns bright as they take on the mischievous glint I'm used to. "...bored." 

I sigh through his chuckling fit. "Geez Adams. You bore me more than all my teachers combined." 

"If that's the case than why do you need me? You wouldn't be here if you could understand your teacher's way of learning," I retort. 

"Maybe I like hanging with you," he shrugs. For a moment I believe his words to be sincere, then I remember he likes hanging out with a bunch of different girls from school and shiver in disgust. "I just wish it didn't have to be during football practice." 

Nick looks out of the window we're seated next to. The windows on this side of the school building give a perfect view of the football field below where the Summers Saber-cats are practicing for the first game of the school year. 

I spot Trevor leading the team in place of Nick today, and Carmen on the bleachers who, instead of cheering for her boyfriend, is glued to her phone. 

"Don't worry. Trevor is just filling in your spot as captain today. He'll lead the team well until you don't need this tutoring session anymore." 

He scoffs. "That idiot couldn't lead a moth to a flame without handwritten directions. Why does he always have to fill in for me?" 

Nick Novak: pompous, vulgar, reckless. Now I can add envious to the never ending list of negative traits he racks up. 

"Remember, that's my friend you're talking about," I say with a strained smile. "Now, write the introductory paragraph on your own first. I want to see what you can come up with. Then, I'll critique it." 

"Say please," he smirks. 

"You can't be rude and expect kindness in return. That may work on your other girls, but not me." 

Nick leans back in his chair and rests his intertwined fingers behind his head. The movement of his arms lifts his shirt up a bit, revealing faint lines beginning the very prominent six pack I've seen with every opportunity he's had to take his shirt off. 

You can't knock Nick Novak's confidence, but I avert my gaze back to the English assignment prompt so as to not inflate his ego even more. 

"At least you can't call me a quitter. Besides, those girls are easy. I'm attracted to a challenge from time to time." His wide grin continues to grow as his eyes lock on something out the window. I follow his line of sight to the football field and stand to shut the blinds. 

"Write. Now." I grab the pencil and shove it in his hand. "If not for me or Mr. K, then for yourself." 

He rolls his eyes but complies in the end. 

Peers like Nick always have me second guessing this tutoring thing. But I'm desperate to stay out of my empty home for as long as possible during the day, so I'll take what I can get.