Your Tutor

Chapter Two

I open the door to my dorm after having heard a knock. It's 6:00 so I know it's Brooks. And when I see that it is, I invite him inside. "Hey," I greet, scratching the back of my head. I've been doing homework and studying for the past two hours so I probably look like I haven't slept in years.

Brooks doesn't seem to mind, though. He slips past me and into my room wearing his high school letterman jacket over a black hoodie and grey sweats. I close the door, then go back and sit at my small circle table. He joins me, placing the notebook and computer he brought down. I cross my legs in the chair, sitting how we were taught in kindergarten. "What do you need help with?" I ask, pulling up the criteria needed for the essay we're turning in next Tuesday.

"I don't need help, I just don't get it." He sounds ashamed to say that. I mean, I would too. This is the easiest thing we've had to do all year. "Like, what the fuck are we reading? And he expects us to write an essay to prove that science is right when it's not."

I hold back a laugh. "It's not, you're right. But that's the whole point." I take the sticky note that I wrote yesterday and stick it to the top right of his computer screen. "'Make it sound convincing so people will believe you.' Use points they made in the article to help." I open my notebook and flip through a few of my very organized pages. I read down a couple of sentences. "Like when they said Einstein thought this was true. Mr. Rodd said whichever one sounds the most believable is getting an A. We have to present it by the way. Via PowerPoint presentation."

"You're kidding?" he deadpans. "And turn in an essay?"

I nod.

"Oh, you're fucking kidding me." I start laughing. "What's funny? This isn't funny. I'm going to fail."

"No, you're not. Not with my help." I recollect myself, stopping my laughing. "You should pay attention in class. He said this multiple times."

He shakes his head. "He sounds like a fucking sociopath. Nothing he says makes sense. Ever. I just stopped listening and started figuring it out myself. But this," he gestures to his computer, "doesn't make any sense."

"Hmm.. If this doesn't make sense to you, why are you taking this class? I mean, this isn't going to be the hardest thing we do."

Brooks sighs, leaning back in the chair. "My dad wants me to take this class. Can't really say no."

I nod once before sitting upright and starting back on my work. I already had some of this essay written, and in the two hours I was alone, I finished it. Now, I'm working on the presentation. He takes my lead and starts working too.

I take an occasional glance up at him to see his focused features. I've never gotten to see Forest like this. Not focused, but just seeing him up close. It's always from a distance. Not that I stare. He parties too much, doesn't care about anybody but himself, and is too... him for me to be looking at him like that. And he has his eyes on prettier girls anyway. His gorgeous green irises, fluffy dark hair, and defined features get him anyone he wants. And everyone wants him too. It's disgusting really.

I just don't get it. Other than the fact that he's pretty, I wouldn't give two glances at the thought of dating him. I don't see what all the other girls are seeing.

God, Maylee, stop it. Remember what you said this morning.

"Take a picture, it lasts longer," Brooks says, throwing me off guard as my eyes quickly flicker to my computer screen once more. A cocky grin plasters his lips, making me groan and roll my eyes.

"I wasn't staring."

He scoffs playfully. "Oh, you definitely were. It's okay, it happens."

I shift my gaze to him completely, my eyes narrowing. "I was not staring. I looked to make sure you were working. That's what I'm here for."