Bad Boy

Chapter 8: I get an A...now I am my "boyfriend"'s tutor?

Special thanks to Nightingale_Sky for making the wonderful cover off to the side :D

Chapter 8- I get an A..now I am my "boyfriend's" tutor?!

"Hey Roxy?" My English teacher, Mrs. Whitman asks.

I look up. "Yes?"

She motions me to come up to her desk. I make my way, feeling rather pleased with myself, knowing exactly what she was about to ask me.

"You have straight A's in this class," she starts. I nod with excitement. "I was wondering if you could be a tutor for a few kids who are struggling with this subject?" Gracefully, I nod and smile.

By, 'a few kids who are struggling with this subject' she meant the kids who want nothing to do with school. The kids who don't even try. The thought of bossing around some stupid kids who hate being in a classroom, filled up a small space in my heart that's been missing.

"Great! Could you start tonight?" I nod again. "Thanks, tonight, you will be tutoring," she pauses, searching through her file folder. "Ah, here we go. You will be tutoring Chase Hawkins tonight." She smiles, handing me his file and a few books.

You know that spot in my heart that filled up a few minutes ago? Yeah, it just cleared up again.

Instead of nodding, like I keep doing like the dumb idiot I am, I stand there, dumbfounded. "Will that be a problem?"

I smile and shake my head. "No no, that will be great!"

"Alright, the building closes as 5, so take as much time as you need, as long as you don't go pass closing time." Mrs. Whitman smiles.

I nod and walk back to my seat.

Chase Hawkins, Roxy Gledwer. You just agreed to tutor Chase fucking Hawkins. What have you gotten yourself into?

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I sit next to Chase as he doodles on his composition notebook. I couldn't quite see what he was drawing, but to be honest, it looked like he was drawing boobs with a dick in between them. Feels just like my old slut-filled school.

He quickly closes his notebook and flirtatiously smiles at me. Grabbing my neck, he pulls me and in basically tries to eat my fucking face. Or, what most would call French kissing, but you get the point.

I push away and scoot my chair far away from him. "So, you need help in class. What exactly are you struggling in?"

"Stuff."

"Specifics please?"

He licks his lips. I couldn't help but look down. He was getting hard.

"I need a teacher in sex Ed. I'm supposed to learn how to-"

I slam the chair into him as a quickly get up. This was getting uncomfortable.

"Chase..."

"It's Blaze, sweetheart."

I quickly rush out of the library and down the halls.

Chase Fucking Hawkins is so fucking dead. So. fucking. dead.