𝔽₳𝜯Ǝ

Wait., What.?

Oh yeah.

Friday afternoon finally rolled around. I had told my parents of course, that a girl from school was coming over so I could tutor her. I thought my dad was going to give me a high five. Oh my God!!. My mom had responded by cleaning the entire house top to bottom; which included me helping, of course, it was my 'guest'. Didn't matter that I told my mom she was paying me for lessons. I had a female guest coming over, you'd have thought I'd announced an engagement.

About ten minutes to two, a car pulled up in the driveway. Yes, I was watching the driveway from my room. I could see Chloe in the passenger seat, and the driver... was her boyfriend. The only six-foot-tall freshman guy in our school, probably because he was also the only freshman old enough to drive as well. Jeremy Davis. Basketball player and a wrestler. Oh yeah, I knew Jeremy; and everyone knew he and Chloe were dating, he made sure of that. They kissed and she got out of the car.

Alright, I get it. Show up with your boyfriend and send a message. Tutoring only. Message received, Chloe. Message received.

I went out to the living room to open the door. I at least waited for a knock first though.

Opening the door I remembered exactly why I was doing this again.

Her brunette hair was down, with a cute little clip in it on one side, she was wearing a floral print sundress. Gulp. Right, feeling of gibbering stupid. Inspection.

"Hey Jake," she said brightly.

"Hey Chloe," I said. Yay, I remembered her name!

I glanced over her shoulder, Jeremy was sitting in his car, glaring at me. I waved.

He didn't wave back.

Chloe did though, she turned and waved at him, apparently giving him the everything's okay, signal.

"Come on in," I managed to remember to say. I stepped aside. I glanced back at my parents and was inwardly amused, embarrassed, and not a little bit delighted. My dad's eyes were wide, openly staring at the teenage princess that had just crossed our gate. Embarrassed. Proud. My mother also had one eye raised, but at me, perhaps wondering how her quiet, nerdy, only child had managed to land such divine hotness. Cheered, but also embarrassed.

"Mom, Dad, this is Chloe, the girl I'm going to be tutoring," I said.

My parents recovered swiftly, and my mother smiled at Chloe. "Hello dear, why don't you guys take the kitchen table here?" she said.

"Hello Chloe," my dad said. Thankfully that's all he said because he looked like he wanted to high-five me again...

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes. Thanks for letting Jake tutor me, I'm so lost," she said with a giggle that once again should have been accompanied by faeries with bells.

"It's fine, mom, I'm all set up in my room with my notes and stuff," I said. I did not want to be out here with my Dad staring at Chloe and my Mom offering dowry gifts or something.

My mother pursed her lips together and then said, "Alright Jake, but," she said, and I felt the color rising to my cheeks, "door open."

Dear God, mother.

Chloe just giggled. "That's fine, Jake and I are just friends. And I do need to study."

Wait, what? Friends?

"Uhm, right down the hall," I gestured to Chloe and led her to my room.

She waved again at my parents and turned to follow me.

My room was not large, but it wasn't too small, either. In addition to my bed and dresser, I had room for a desk, a couple of bookshelves, and a closet full of comic books. All of the latter having just been shoved in there the previous day. No sense developing the nerd image. On my bookshelves, I had a couple of science fair trophies I'd earned in elementary and middle school, as well as a few reading awards. Okay, maybe a bit nerdy.

Hey, just because I wasn't a jock didn't mean I'd never won anything. Maybe I did want to show them off. God knows the next time I'd have the sexiest sixteen-year-old girl on the planet in my room to show them to.

I'd brought in one of the kitchen chairs to sit next to my desk and held it out for her. She smiled and set her book and notebook down on the desk, then hung her bag on the back of it.

"A gentleman as well as a scholar. Thank you," she said. Her voice had a lilting hint to it I'd never heard before. Wait, was that a flirt? Was she flirting? How does one tell?

"Don't mention it." I cleared my throat and sat down in my chair. "Why don't you show me the notes you have? And then we'll do a couple of practice problems to see where you are."

"You got it, Professor. I'm your willing student." There was that tone in her voice again. My God, does this girl listen to herself?

To be honest I don't remember too much of that first afternoon. I remember she was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. I remember watched her. A lot. She'd wrinkle her eyebrows as she tried to puzzle out what I was saying, or figure out a problem. Her eyes sparkled when the light hit them just right; like - literally sparkled. She had the most impressive laugh I'd ever heard, and I started trying to make her do it whenever I could. I have pretty decent humor, and somehow I found enough of it to make enough wisecrack to keep her laughing, even when I could sense she was getting baffled.

Oh also, she was terrible at algebra. Like, hopelessly bad. It'd be laughable if it wasn't so simultaneously sad. She had no idea what she was doing.

Luckily, I was very good at algebra, and she was a lot smarter than her understanding of mathematics misled, so by the end of the first session, a couple of things were clear. One, I was going to need more than four more sessions to get her through this course. Two, she was pretty smart, as well as beautiful, sexy, and charming. Three, I was totally in love with her.

The hopeless kind. Without hope. She was my sun and I the chloroplast in plants that makes life possible. Yeah. I had it bad.

We ended up meeting three times a week for the next five weeks, and I found out something else. I was pretty good at this tutoring stuff. I mean, once I got over her enough to make eye contact regularly (not every time though, let's be realistic), and started talking to her, we connected.

She understood things the way I explained them, and I began to realize she was more than a walking perfection. Oh, I still fantasized about her almost every waking moment, and more than once to the smell of her scent that sometimes clung to my bed after she'd been in my room. But I - slowly - began to uncover the personality and mind.