Tutoring the Bad Boy

Liechtenstein? Gesundheit

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*Kaitlyn MacDonald*

Drew carries me all the way down the stairs and into the kitchen, me over his shoulder the whole time. And let me just say, I had a very nice view of his butt.

What? He must do squats or something, because there's no way that's natural.

Okay, I'm done.

We pass the couch where Jordan is still sprawled out, watching Netflix. I thump on Drew's back.

"Put me down!"

"But you told me to carry you to the kitchen, so that's what I'm doing."

"Okay, but I changed my mind. I want to talk to Jordan."

Jordan looks up at the mention of his name. "What about me?"

"I want to know what you're watching. Also, when are you going to go back to school?" I question, wriggling in Drew's grasp. Both to my delight and my dismay (what? He's hot), Drew puts my down. I run to the couch and jump, landing next to Jordan, but nowhere near his bad knee. I'm not that mean.

"What are we watching?" I question, peering intently at the TV screen. "Wait. Is that... Paul Wesley? And Ian Somerhalder?" I may not get out much, okay not at all, but I do know my male celebrities.

"Shut up, okay?" Jordan blushes, and grabs the remote, pausing the show. Whatever other explanation he's about to offer as to his choice of TV show is cut off by laughter coming from the kitchen doorway.

"Y-you watch the Vampire Diaries?" stutters Drew, while clutching his stomach and doubling over with laughter. "H-how did that happen?"

Drew's face is now as red as Jordan's, one from laughter and the other from embarrassment. "You might want to check up on your boyfriend over there, Lyn. He looks like he might need CPR at any given time right now," says Jordan, who has silently turned off the TV, getting rid of any evidence we might have of his TV excursions.

I stand up. "He's not my boyfriend, okay? Just a poor, unfortunate soul in need of my academic help. And right now, probably my physical help, because I think if he keeps up this laughing, he's going to spontaneously combust."

Jordan nods seriously. "Goodbye annoying time consumer, hello Netflix binge watching."

I laugh. "This is true." As I turn to Drew, I'm struck by a thought. "Hey Drew? How do you know what the Vampire Diaries is, let alone who the characters are?"

It's Drew's turn to turn beet red, and Jordan's to laugh.

"I... may or may not watch it with my sister whenever she's watching it. It's actually quite good, and damn, Rebekah is a nice piece of-"

"GRASS!" I shout, cutting him off. Jumping over to Sam, who has just descended the stairs, I cover his ears with my hands. "Little ears here, McCarthy."

Sam shrugs me off. "I'm 15, not 5, okay? I can handle a couple of bad words."

Drew, Jordan and I look at each other before cracking up.

"What?" cries Sam. "What's so funny?"

But we just wave him off.

As I'm catching my breath, I'm grabbed and dragged backwards into the kitchen, where Drew unceremoniously dumps me on top of the kitchen counter. He then rummages through my fridge before grabbing a container of leftover pasta and chucking it in the microwave. I just sit there, not really sure what to do. Getting down would be too much effort, and besides, Drew is making me food! Why should I move?