Blinded by Perfection

15- Coffee and Cram

Chapter 15 | Coffee and Cram

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As if he isn't perfect enough, Chance ends up being the perfect tutor, even for someone as clueless in the subject of math as me. I don't know how he managed, but by the end of the night I understand the main concepts that we were working on and have my notes up to date.

"Thanks again. You saved my butt," I thank, relief flooding my tone. Without thinking it through I launch myself at his chest, wrapping my arms around him in a thankful hug. He chuckles, chest undulating at the action.

"Anytime," he answers. He gives my smaller frame a tight squeeze before letting go, assuming a casual position by leaning on the wall.

Now that there's nothing to do anymore, the atmosphere between us feels awkward. We're both dead silent, probably wrapped up in our own thoughts. My mind especially keeps wandering to what happened a couple hours ago. The moment is imprinted in my brain, and I get the same amount of butterflies every time I recall it than I did when it happened.

"I should probably go. It's getting late," he suddenly says, seeming to snap out of his own little trance by shaking his head sharply so his brown hair whips to the right. Afterwards, he pushes off of the flat of his foot which previously rested on the wall. Without another word between us he makes his way to the doorway, only pausing to reach out to grab his keys which lie right beside my small flatscreen TV.

"See you pretty girl," he says in farewell, walking out of my narrow bedroom door with steps of purpose. I don't think he expected me to follow him, but I do, getting up and jogging over to his tall figure with my dark brown hair swaying with each step.

Ironically, I reach the door before him. I swiftly pull it open, a smile glued on my face as his charming self halts from walking through.

"Bye Charming."

If possible, my grin doubles it's size when he gazes down at me, hazel eyes twinkling with silent laughter at the nickname.

With only that as his response, he walks out of the door. His leave is just as noisy as it was when he came, thunderous steps practically shaking the hallways like he's a giant. My eyes follow his silhouette all the way down until the corner, amusement and laughter vibrant withen their blue waters.

Once he's out of sight for good, I close the door, biting my tongue to restrain my smile and keep my expression neutral. Inside, I want to scream as loud as I can and jump up and down like a kangaroo, but I'm fully aware if I break into the kind of hystaric fit that the neighbors will file complaints. Or someone with call the cops, thinking I was murdered.

"Did you finish your homework?" My mother asks, turning around from the kitchen counter and facing my secretly overjoyed form. I am barely containing it, faintly shaking in excitement.

That is, until her question sinks in.

Chance had helped me actually understand the concept of what we were doing, but we both had forgotten about the worksheet of fifty problems that's due tomorrow. An immediate frown takes its place on my face, overriding my previous joy.

"Uh. . .sort of?"

I cringe, waiting for the famous lecture on how I should've already gotten it done and been more responsible.  Which, to be fair, fits the situation.