In which his feelings for his tutor are revealed in a display of grandeur ever so similar to New Year's fireworks
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When the Clock Strikes Midnight
New Year's was her least favorite holiday. She never was big on "ringing in the new year". The loud parties, the music, the drinking never was her scene. She preferred a nice quiet night in.
But as she got older, she began to get more restless. She'd gone many evenings without her New Year's kiss to start the year off right. She was told this was in-part because she never went out where the guys were. Despite the encouragement she received, she was stirring a pot of 11:30pm cider she'd just made, all alone in her apartment on December 31st.
She was usually in bed by now, with a strict rule of no useless snacking after 8. But her neighbors threw a party every year and this one was no different. There was no chance she'd be able to sleep with all the noise next door. No matter how desperately she wanted to. It seemed there were some sounds the thin walls let in more easily. The kind that were only pleasant for the ones in the moment.
She would stay up, all alone, in her apartment. Reading her book, rolling her eyes, and grumbling about how much the year sucked already.
But this year, she did all that with a certain boy on her mind.
Robbie McClanahan was a very smart boy. He was well-spoken, meticulous, and intelligent. He had a brain for more than just hockey. Which is exactly why she couldn't understand what he would need a tutor for.
He excelled in every subject he put his mind to. His grades were as superior as his hockey skills. But his professor recommended he study with her. Even after seeing his abnormal test grades she still didn't understand. And she wasn't sure why she was requested specifically.
Robbie wouldn't study with anyone but her. Instead of canceling their session, he brought soup to her when she had the flu. And he'd begun to beg her to his hockey games - promising she'd get in for free if she went.
But she couldn't do that.
She was already crushing on him. If she started going to his games it would only push her over the edge - off a cliff she wouldn't stand a chance against. She wasn't the hockey player type, that much she knew. She was too...innocent - at least that was the word that floated around in her brain.
Robbie's eyes lingered on the girls whose hips swung when they walked. Or whose hair cascaded down their backs in beach waves. Or whose laugh was so fake even a hyena would be insulted.
