Tutoring the Bad Boy

Cheerleading Skirts Are So Easy to Get Around

*Drew McCarthy*

"I'm sorry, Mr. McCarthy, but your grades have gotten too low for you to continue being eligible for sports." Principal Cranch says, while sternly looking at me over the top of his glasses.

What? That's bullsh*t. The basketball team needs me. I'm
their star player!

"Are you kidding?" I burst out. "That's so not fair! The only reason our team has a decent record is because of me!"

Principal Cranch glares at me.

"Please calm down, Mr. McCarthy. You have two options here. One, you can do nothing, quit basketball, and let your grades continue to drop. Option two, we can find you a tutor who is in most of your classes to help you stay eligible."

Being tutored by some nerd kid, or being kicked off the team? That's a no brainer. I get most of my hookups from being on the team anyways. It's so easy to get around cheerleading skirts....

"I choose option two," I growl out, "but I refuse to have a tutoring session during basketball practice. I'm going to play."

"Of course. Tutoring sessions are either during lunch or right after school. You are allowed to choose when."

Cranch stands up and so do I, pushing my chair back and leaving it in the middle of the room. Hell if I'm going to push it back in.

"Are we done here? Because I have stuff to do," I say, arms folded across my chest as I look down at the small principal.

"Yes, Drew. You are free to go. I will let you know who your tutor is when I have picked one. Expect to be back here in a week or so."

I wave him off and stalk out of the office, determined to find something (or someone) to relieve my stress. My dad would flip if he knew that my grades were down and my eligibility was in question. I would never hear the end of it.

Distracted by these thoughts, I bump into someone in the hallway, making them drop their books.

"Oh!" The someone squeaks. "I-I'm so s-sorry, I d-didn't see you th-there." The girl stutters as she bends down to pick up her books. "Are y-you okay?" She asks, clearly nervous and upset. I was fine, in all honesty. I've gotten much worse on the basketball court. However, I don't care.

"You should be sorry," I growl. "Next time, watch where you're going, or I may not be as nice." I walk around her, knocking her books on the floor again in the process. I'm mad, and woe to anyone who gets in my way.

I round the corner and see one of my recent flings, Jean Summers. Her sleek black hair cascades down her back and she sends me a tantalizing smile, beckoning me to come over, which I do.

"Are you okay, baby? You look... stressed," she purrs, walking her fingers up my chest. I'm turned on instantly, and stalk closer to her, grabbing her arms and slamming her against the wall. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back, giving me easy access to her neck and collarbone.

I think I found my someone.

Hola amigos! (I think I did that right, I don't speak Spanish 😁)
How is it so far? Sorry it's so short; I'm typing this on my phone because I was too lazy to turn on my computer.

Good? Vote and comment 🤗
-craving pineapple