In Your Veins

Chapter 1

I eye the clock. 1:45pm, it says. Almost time for this class to end.

I drum my fingers on the table, impatient. Don't get me wrong, I love this class, but I'm just itching to get home today. It's just one of those days.

Fifteen more minutes pass, and I try my best to stay focused on my note-taking. I'll be giving these to a friend later, so I'd better do it right.

But once the clock strikes two, I pick up my bag and rush out of the room. Home, here I come. I can almost feel it now, the loving embrace of a warm shower....

I stop dead in my tracks. Aren't I forgetting something?

I could've sworn I had something to do. I keep signing up for so many things....it makes keeping track of things so difficult.

Then it hits me, like a bolt from the blue. I agreed to tutor today.

With a groan, I turn around and go right back the way I came.

I like writing, so I thought that teaching another person to do it would be no problem at all. Boy, was I wrong. No matter how interesting I think language is, obviously not everyone will share my passion.

That doesn't matter though, I'm here to help. I've been paired with a new person today, I wonder what they'll be like.

A part of me wishes I'd called in sick to go enjoy my warm shower, but the better half of me immediately chastises that thought. Evading responsibilities is no way to go about life. Besides, I need the extracurricular credits.

I make my way over to the library, and into the tutoring room. When I get there, everybody is already in pairs, going through various writing pieces. There's only one person sitting by himself.

He's hunched over, staring at his phone and biting the nail on his thumb, his dark hair obscuring his face. But as I walk in, his head shoots up and his piercing yellow eyes meet mine. It's a bit unnerving, if I'm being honest.

Well, time to meet my new pair.

"Hello," I greet him, setting my bag down at the table, "My name is—"

"Alette," he finishes for me, his stare growing more intent.

"How did you...?"

His pale face flushes red, and he looks away. "Oh, uh...you look like an Alette."

I highly doubt that. My name isn't a common one.

"It suits you," he says, trying to fill the awkward silence.

I won't think about it too hard.

"Thank you," I say. "And yours is...?"

"Khiere."

"Nice to meet you, Khiere."

"Y-yes. It's nice to....meet you..."

He looks at me for a few seconds more, before realizing that he has to actually show me his work for this arrangement to work out. Without another word, he pulls out a few sheets of paper from his bag and lays them on the table in front of me.

"Here's what I need help with...."

I take a seat, and he shows me his essay. His writing is....awful. There's no other way to say it. But that's alright, that's what I'm here for.

I run through improvements he could make to his essay. As I look up to see if he's paying attention, I find that he's staring dead at me. Not at the paper or the things I'm writing, but at me.

Maybe he's paying a little too much attention.

I brush it off and continue talking. I run through convention, citations, and vocabulary. All the while, his eyes never leave my face. I'm distinctly and uncomfortably aware of it, but decide not to point it out.

Something about this guy...maybe he doesn't talk to people often?

.....it's fine. I won't make a big deal of it. I'm awkward in public too, I understand.

Soon enough, our hour together is over. By the end of it, his paper is covered in the ink of my purple pen.

He takes his paper from me and looks at it with a strange look of fascination on his face.

"Thanks," he says, looking at each page with careful concentration. "I appreciate it."

"No problem," I reply, and his cheeks flush again.

I pick up my bag.

"See you on Thursday?" he asks, his piercing eyes once again meeting mine.

I nod, and head out.

I did a lot of writing today, more than I thought I would. I should buy a new pen. I love the way that one writes, so I'll just get one exactly like it. I'm biased towards that pen. It writes in purple ink, my favorite colour.

.... obviously I'm trying not to think about Khiere. He didn't have a single thing to say about the corrections I was making, he simply listened. I'm tempted to describe it as weird, but I feel mean for doing so.

I'll have to see him again the day after tomorrow. He's.... interesting, to say the least.

Well, whatever. I don't need to think about that until Thursday. Right now, the first thing on my mind is a warm shower, followed by an hour or two of homework and a nice nap...