"Harry." Mrs. Russo calls on Harry, my crush since 8th geade.
"I didn't do my homework." He says looking at Mrs. Russo with a blank stare.
"Is it that hard for you to do your work for once. It's the last question on the page, please just answer it. Make up an answer. Something."
"42." He says with a smart ass tone.
"No, it's 57. You see, if you multiply 5 by 7 and..." She continues on even though no one was listening except Ethan Opel who was the smartest person in our class.
"Here." Kara, the girl who sits next to me passes me a note with my name on the front. "It's from Harry."
My heart races faster and faster. Why would he want to talk to me? He usually talks to the popular, pretty, preppy girls even though he always says he doesn't like preppy girls.
Disregarding my thoughts, I open the letter and read it.
'Hey, meet me in the hall after class, I want to talk to you.'
I write 'ok' on the line after it and give it back to Kara who passes it to Harry.
The bell rings to signal the end of 9th period, the second to last period of the day
I pack up my stuff and put it all in my gray and yellow polka dot book bag and leave the class, not wanting Harry to wait on me.
I see Harry leaning against the wall waiting for me so I take a deep breath and walk over to meet him.
"Hey."
"Uh, hi."
"What's your next period?" He asks me as he starts walking a little.
"Science, with Mr. Lucas."
"I walk you." He says walking in the direction of Mr. Lucas' room.
This is so weird. We never talk, he barely knows me. Why is he talking to me and walking me to my classes? Don't get me wrong, I like that he's doing this but I just don't understand why.
"Did you need to talk to me about something?" I ask, trying to break the awkward silence.
"Oh, yeah. Um, well, Mrs. Russo says I need to find a tutor or something like that and there's no way in hell I'm going to hang out with Ethan so I was wondering if you wanted to be my tutor."
"Oh. Uh yeah. Sure." I reply a bit surprised because no one has ever asked me to be their tutor. I mean yeah, I'm smart and I know everyone knows it but no one ever asks me for help.
"You sure? You seem a bit- well, not sure."
"Yeah I'm sure. It's just no one has ever asked me that before."
"Really? You're so smart."
"I wouldn't go that far." I hate compliments. They make me feel good but at the same time I feel like when someone compliments me, it seems like I'm fishing for compliments.
"Uh, the whole school knows you're one of the smartest people here."
"Ok. Whatever you say."
"And you're cute."
I laugh because I'm actually really ugly all the time, or at least I feel ugly. People tell me that I'm pretty all the time but I can't believe it.
"Are you still talking to me?"
He chuckles. "Yeah. You're actually pretty cute. And I don't just say that to anyone."
"Ok. Well, thanks."
