He Loved Me First ✓

He Loved Me First (2)

Chapter 2

My parents came in and talked to me as soon as they got back. I supposed Uncle Ethan had ratted me out. It didn't matter anyway.

My uncle had made up with Aunt Sara and I figured they would get married eventually. I, like my mother, was not too fond of the idea. But I supposed we'd have to get over it.

I spent the next few years doing pretty much the same things. I was not going to give up my lifestyle, noway, nohow. In my mind, it was just not going to happen. Thankfully, I was wrong about so many things, and I realized this. My parents, and little sister were not thrilled with me. They were always worried, and told me so. My sister did, anyway. I found it very annoying, but what annoyed me even more than that was when she entered a convent when I was just starting my third year of college, but let's back up a bit.

My first fall semester was hard, I'll admit, even for a guy who had done pretty well in high school. Math was my downfall though, and halfway through the semester I realized I would fail my Calculus class if I didn't get some help. There was a girl in my class named Felicity Jones, and she was a genius at math. Everyone knew this. I also knew she was one of those girls with fairly low self-esteem, and I knew I was quite attractive, so it would be pretty easy to talk her into tutoring me.

I walked up to her after our professor dismissed the class. He always bolted out the door after class was over. "Hey," I said casually, leaning up against the wall beside her.

"Do you need something?" she asked me, seeing right through my act.

"I only wanted to talk to a pretty girl," I assured her. And she was pretty, too. She was one of those girls that just had a natural beauty.

"Look," she said, throwing her bag over her shoulder and standing up, "We both know you're doomed to fail this class without help." She paused and gave me a chance to try and deny it. I was too shocked to do anything. She took out a pen and wrote something on my hand. "So, just come to my dorm at 6 tonight. That's my room number," she said, gesturing to my hand. She breezed out of the classroom without another word.

At about 6:05pm I knocked on her door. "You're late," she accused.

I usually would have played it cool, and said I was being fashionably late, but this girl made it so hard to do so. The only option I had was to tell her the truth. "Sorry," I said genuinely, "It took me a little longer than I was expecting to find your dorm."

"Whatever," she said, pulling me past the doorway, "Let's get started."

What followed was about an hour of torturous math. It turned out that Felicity was a really good teacher though, and I felt like I knew what I was doing on that certain aspect by the time I left.

"Have you ever thought of being a teacher?" I asked her, "You're really good at this."

She stopped what she was doing and looked up at me, "No, not really. You think I could be a teacher?"