Different Way of Tutoring || marcel styles

Ch. 1: He's Marcel.

THIS STORY CONTAINS: MATURE SCENES, VIOLENCE & STRONG LANGUAGE. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

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a/n: hey everybody! thanks for choosing my book to read, it means alot. please don't try to copy my story, because if you do, there will be consequences. thanks again, and enjoy reading! have a magical, wonderful day! ♡

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E l i z a b e t h's P.O.V

Well this has to be the worst day ever. I have experienced bad days, trust me. But this has to be the worst new so far in al of my high school years. I just found out that I'm failing my Algebra 2 class. I honestly don't understand at all why I have an F. I mean, I turn in all my work, I behave in class and yet I still have an F? I have straight A's in all my other classes, not one missing assignment in any. I'm never late nor truant so why am I being punished? It's not my fault the hag can't properly teach us how to do correct math but at least I'm trying.

What a load of bullshit.

My teacher, Ms. Bulliard, or also called the Wicked Witch of the Campus, says that I'm failing because my test scores are so low and she has assigned me a tutor. A freaking tutor! She is trying to make it seem like I'm stupid, which I am not and I certainly do not need a tutor. I can most definitely get great test scores if she'd teach me in a way that makes me actually learn. So sadly, if I don't raise up my test scores by the next mid-term then I'm stuck with my 'tutor' until I do. I don't want to put up with hours after school and on weekends of just studying. I deal with all of that already at school. So why should I be tutored at home too?

Speaking of tutoring, my first session is in an hour and I really don't want to do any kind of studying. If you can't tell already, I hate it. Extremely. Anyways, my tutor's name is Marcel. I'm guessing she's a girl because that sounds like a girl's name in all honesty. Nobody would ever name their boy such a girlish name. Hopefully, she doesn't go to my school because then that would be very embarrassing.

Oh boy.

I sighed, discontinuing my thoughts as I lifted myself from my couch to go upstairs and go get ready. I looked really messy and if my tutor meets me I don't want them to think I'm a pig and dumb. As I open my door, I see the sight of my white walls with posters of Arctic Monkeys, The 1975, Lorde and several other bands plastered on.

Hey, what can I say, I'm an alternative kind of girl. Sue me.

I sit down on my chair and turn on the lights of my vanity desk. I apply some concealer, mascara for my eyelashes, some chapstick and a bit of bronzer to my cheek bones. Standing up, I head towards my closet, deciding to not really put that much effort today, picking out a long blue flannel and a pair of white shorts with my white converse.

I let my hair loose, brushing out the tangles and setting fly aways back in place by dabbing a tiny bit of hairspray on them. I look in the mirror, happy with my result and head downstairs only to hear light knocking on my door.

And the pain begins.

I open the door to see a tall, lanky boy. Big thick rimmed, glasses adorned on his nose. His skin, clear for the most part besides a few bumps here and there with some moles. I notice that he is wearing a white, long sleeved button up shirt with a brown vest and some black, dress pants. He looks at me nervously and swallows loudly. His Adam's apple catching my eye as he did so.

"A-Are you Elizabeth?" He stutters, his gaze quickly switching from the floor to mine.

"Yes, are you Marcel?" I ask, biting my lip slightly. Wow, he's really cute, I thought to myself. Score.

"Y-Yes." I really thought Marcel was a girl, whoops.

Not that I'm complaining.

"Alrighty then, come on in," I give him a small smile.

He steps inside, fixing his collar slightly. His eyes widened when he looks around my house. I giggle at his reaction and he blushes instantly. I see that same facial expression all the time whenever somebody comes over my house. He clears his throat before holding his textbook closer to his chest awkwardly before turning back to me.

"You, uh, y-you have a lovely home," Marcel says, nervously.

"Thank you," I smile again, "we can study in my room if you want?"

"S-Sure."

I started to walk to the stairs, purposely moving flirtatiously. I turned around once I reached the bottom of the stairs, only to see Marcel in the same spot he was before, staring at my legs. When he sees that I caught his stare, he quickly moved his eyes to the stairs. His breathing had increased, looking a bit guilty but mostly embarrassed. I shake my head slightly, but smile at the same time.

He's so socially awkward, how adorable.

"Well, shall we?" I give him a small smirk, pointing to the stairs. He quickly caught on, walking towards the stairs. I started to climb up, Marcel slowly following behind.

"This is my room," I say, once we reached the door near the top of the staircase. Opening the door, my posters and bed comes into view, "make yourself at home."

He stood by the door, clutching his textbook nervously. His free hand pushing up his glasses that were falling down his nose. He looks uncertain, almost waiting for me to give him permission. What a true gentleman.

"Come sit by me," I tell him, patting the seat next to me on my bed.

Marcel nods, slowly walks near me, sitting on the bed. He places his textbook between us, creating distance. I look at him curiously, wondering why he's so nervous. No boy had ever been so cautious with me and I'm really wondering why he was so.

I'll find out soon enough.

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One Hour Later.

"Finally!" I sighed happily, closing my textbook. "Were done with the studying."

For the past hour or so, Marcel was helping me review my last Math lesson, quite nervously may I add. I still want to know why. Maybe he's just shy around new people? Maybe he just needs to get to know me better? Does he not like me?

"I-I should go now.." Marcel spoke quietly.

"Are you sure?" I ask him. "You could stay a little longer if you want? Maybe hang out a bit? I have a pool in the back, if you wa-"

"Why are you b-being so nice?" Marcel interrupts.

"What do you mean?" I ask, looking at him confused.

"N-Nothing.." Marcel stuttered. "I have to g-go."

He quickly grabs his textbook, and his other things before walking out of my room. The noise of a door closing downstairs indicates he has left my house. I slump slightly, a frown now on my features.

What did he mean by what he said? Was I ever mean to him unintentionally? I don't remember seeing him around school nor talking to him before today. Why was he so distant? I sighed, closing my book. I threw myself back onto my bed, laying on it.

Maybe I should stop. I could be overthinking things.. Besides I just met him today, it's not like I should have expected him to act like we were best friends or something. I shake my head to get rid of my thoughts but for some reason I can't.

Marcel, Marcel, Marcel.

Arent you just the cutest, little nervous thing.

Hopefully things will go better next time.

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A/N:

Marcel is the cutest thing ever asdjkslri

ok well enjoy this story bc i sure do.

comment, vote and share!

thanks babe, love jess. x