L'ennuyeux Tutor
"Things could be worse," she mumbled to herself, picking up the stack of one-hundred flashcards, the only thing she could count on to ace her last French exam of the fall semester.
Those flashcards have been looked over at least three times in the last two hours, front to back, back to front, sideways even, when she assumed to forget the answer and decided to take a sweet peek. Help never arrived for her in the solid three hours of her studying. Once her best-friend Janelle finished her last final, nothing stopped her from grabbing all her belongings and dashing to the nearest bus to catch the train home. Months of not being able to touch her boyfriend made her even more insane than the usual, so it came to be expected that she'd go ahead and pull a roadrunner, leaving her anxious friend in the winds to fight for herself. Besides Janelle, her other friend Marelo, had his own studying to do – which to her dismay was more complicated than studying for a foreign language. Advanced Chem1A, why he chose to kill off all the brain cells he had left she will never know. After realizing the only two people that she would trust to help her get through with studying remained out of the question, she begrudgingly picked up the phone and called her boyfriend of five years, Keith.
Now, she loves Keith to the fullest, there's no point in denying that. However, given his history of helping her study for exams, he's not the person you would graciously call for help. There have been plenty of instances where they would study for a good thirty minutes, but once those precious moments were up, she soon found herself shirtless and a giggling mess as Keith's lips found their way to the sensitive spots under her chin. Soon, there became no point in denying the irrefutable truth that he is her downfall.
Unfortunately given the circumstances, Keith stood as her only hope in passing this final test before Christmas break.
Her eyes shut in appreciation to the mellifluous noises wafting through her open window as her mind became adrift into a comatose-like realm, focusing on the sounds of the blusterous winds and echoes of thunder that intruded the otherwise quiet study space of her dorm. Even though the rain soothed her stress, it didn't put a dent in the anxiousness she felt for her boyfriend who could be stuck out in the ominous thunderstorm.
Taking a small look at her phone, she saw the time turn from 9:50 to 9:51, signaling that a good twenty minutes passed since she had called Keith. The commute from their dorms shouldn't've took him more than ten, but he does have a habit of showing up late to everything. Her worries soon disappeared into the cool air as she heard the soft knocks coming from outside the room.
"Puis-je entrer," he called out, opening the door anyway. His hands carried two bags of delicious smelling goodies. One for sure she knew to be her favorite glazed cinnamon spiced sweet potato fries from the little café they always go to after their shared Communications class.
"Why ask to come in, if you're just going to barge in anyway," she laughed, jumping up to her feet to give him a hug.
His gold painted "Got Melanin" hoodie became drenched from the horrendous rain, which gave him more reason to put down the bags on her dresser and strip until he was in nothing but his jeans.
"Because I'm a gentleman, beautiful. Now let's get down to studying."
Shock stood as a prominent feature on her face as he set the food down next to the discarded burgundy pillows that were placed as a makeshift fort on the floor. Getting right down to business is a first for him, so he must be just as serious as she is about passing the class. Lucky for her, she had the highest advantage when working with her boyfriend. Not only is he almost fluent in French, he had spent all four years in high-school learning about the language and culture. Keith knows more than she ever could, but he still turned out to be her third and final choice as a tutor.
