Tutor Me

by Hope Stillwater

  I bent sideways as if to inspect her butt. “Maybe I do, maybe I don’t, but with that skirt on I KNOW you don’t.”

  Miss ABG made a snarling sound and stepped forward, but before she could respond, Callum hastily interjected, “I’m sorry you had to wait. I’m ready now.”

  “Let’s go then.” I said in a clipped voice.

  “Can’t I come to your lesson?” The girl was pouting at him, still hanging onto his arm for dear life.

  I gave her an icy stare. “Run along now, sunshine. There’s a two-for-one special on piercings down the street.”

  I heard a muffled chortle come from Callum.

  “Bitch,” she said flatly. I ignored her.

  “Later Noelle.” He was looking at me as he spoke to her. She let out a disappointed whine, shot me a scathing look which I gave right back to her, and flounced off.

  “Call me?” she called out over her shoulder. Callum, with his eyes still on me, didn’t reply.

  “Meet up with your girlfriend on your own time, in future, not mine,” I spat out once she was out of hearing.

  “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  “Fuck buddy, whatever. Just don’t waste my time.”

  He smirked, showing off his lip ring to nice effect. Yeh, you caught that too? He didn’t deny that, did he?

  “Why were you stuck out in the heat anyway? You could have waited in your car.”

  “My car doesn’t have a/c.”

  “What?” He looked astonished. But before I could explain, he said, “Oh yeh of course. That great old beetle. It wouldn’t, would it?” He looked around and spotted it a few cars away from where we were standing. “Manual transmission?”

  “Yup.”

  “That’s not the original paint on it, is it?”

  “No but the new paint is true to the original color.”

  “What year is it, a ’68?”

  “A ’69. It was my great uncle’s car.” I was proud of that car, even if it was a bit chilly in winter and really hot in summer. And just like that I realized I had forgotten to be annoyed. Heck, I’d almost forgotten about the tutoring session. I pulled myself together.

  “So are we going to do this lesson or what?” My words were all business but my anger had evaporated.

  He seemed relieved. “Sure, where do you have in mind?”

  “I was thinking Starbucks.”

  Callum looked doubtful. “It’s going to be crowded.”

  “I think it’ll be fine.” No way was he calling the shots on this.

  He was about to say something but apparently chose not to press it, which was wise, given that I’d only just calmed down. He shrugged. “OK see you there.” He strode away abruptly toward his car, some sort of old time muscle car with racing stripes.

  By the time I pulled out of the school parking lot, Callum was out of sight. As I drove I regretted my earlier temper. Why did this guy provoke me so much? I resolved to be pleasant and distant with him from now on.

  When I walked into Starbucks, Callum was standing just inside the entrance, his arms crossed over his chest, looking exasperated. The place was teeming with students, moms with toddlers, and the occasional businessman in a suit. Between the crowd and the milk foamer, the noise level was high, there were no tables in sight, and glancing around I’d already seen three people I knew. The heat made sitting outside out of the question.

  “This is not going to work,” Callum said so curtly that I wondered if he meant doing the lesson in Starbucks or this tutoring thing altogether.

  Now it was my turn to apologize for wasting our time. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I should have thought it through. I’ve never done this before.”

  “I thought you had a job as a tutor?”

  “That was with little kids and I always just went to their house.”

  “Let’s do that then. Follow my car.”

  Without another word he swung around to go while I processed the change of plans. Callum glanced back.

  “Did you want to get a drink before we go?” After his abruptness he was all of a sudden being thoughtful? This guy constantly threw me off guard.

  “No I’m fine. Let’s go. The din in here is starting to get to me.”

  He smiled smugly but refrained from saying “I told you so.”

  Given Callum’s quick departure from school, I was worried I might lose him on the way to his house but he kept a mellow pace and stopped at the yellow lights so we didn’t get separated. Soon we were on a pleasant street a mile or so from my own. We pulled up in front of a ranch style house with a rundown front yard. The driveway was empty except for Callum’s car and as I stepped onto the sidewalk I felt a thrill at the thought of going into this empty house with this boy I barely knew. Then my brain kicked in and I was mad at myself for thinking that way about a guy I was supposed to tutor, who was kind of an asshole anyway.

  As if he could read my mind, Callum, standing on the sidewalk waiting, said, “I should have asked you if you felt comfortable coming over here.”

  “Not an issue.” Nice and professional.

  He shrugged and then turned towards the front door. When he’d unlocked it he stepped back and gestured me in. “After you.”

  Walking past him in the doorway I could feel the heat emanating from him and smell him, a mix of laundry detergent and guy’s soap and just him, and man did he smell good. His body was a magnet pulling me toward him. I steeled myself to give nothing of my physical reaction away. I had to get it together around this guy! I focused on the room. It was a medium sized living room with painted cement floors and a comfortable rather worn mix of couches and a recliner. A large flat screen TV hung on one side of the room. It looked like a guy’s den.

  “You live here with your dad?”

  “Yeh, how did you know?” He looked at me, curious. We were standing in the middle of the living room.

  “It doesn’t feel like a woman lives here.” I gestured toward the Wii consoles, the TV, the football on the couch.

  He nodded. “Just me and my dad. And not even my dad that much these days as he’s practically shacked up with his girlfriend.” The bitterness was impossible to miss.

  “Do you ever see your mom?”

  “She died when I was eight.” Holy cow, way to put your foot in it Jenny.

  I was mulling that over and feeling sorry for him when he walked over and docked his iPhone, and suddenly the room was filled with the sound of Nine Inch Nails’ Hurt.

  He turned back to me. “How about we sit at the kitchen table?” He started to walk away. I stayed where I was.

  “You’re not planning to leave that music on, are you?”

  He turned around, nonchalant. “I sure am.”

  “I certainly can’t concentrate with that playing, and we need to focus.”

  “I concentrate better with music.”

  “Almost every study has proven otherwise, but perhaps you’re an exception.”

  “Oh I’m exceptional aright. And so is this song. You should listen to it.” His voice oozed condescension.

  “I like the Johnny Cash cover better. You can go back to listening to Trent emote in an hour. Turn the music off, or I leave.”

  I always thought that jaw dropping was just an expression but with great satisfaction I watched as Callum’s fell open at my words. Even if he canceled the lesson and kicked me out of his house it would be worth it to see that look of surprise. Because both my parents and Ben listened to rock, and they were all different ages, I had a pretty good musical playlist in my head, spanning many decades.

  “Well this is unexpected.” Callum’s voice was laced with grudging admiration. He turned off the music. Victory!

  But I played it cool, shrugging as I said, “Why? Covers are often better than the originals. Look at Alien Ant Farm’s cover of Smooth Criminal.”

  He was grinning ear to ear. “You know about music.”

  “Oh you wouldn’t believe how much we cheerleaders know about music.”


  “Oh?” he cocked his head.

  “Yep. Our knowledge is fucking encyclopedic. Now lead me to the kitchen.”

  He was laughing hard. “This tutoring thing is going to be more fun than I thought.”

  I followed him into the kitchen, which was painted bright yellow and looked as if it had all its original 1950s cabinets. There was a square formica table and four chairs in the center of the room. Callum scooped up that morning’s paper from the table and gestured to a chair while he tossed the paper in a recycling bin next to the sink. I sat down in one of the chairs.

  “Can I get you some water or soda or something?” He surprised me again with his politeness.

  “No I’m fine thanks, I have my water bottle with me. Let’s just get started.”

  We were about to begin the lesson at the time I had counted on it ending. Not that anyone was expecting me home.

  Callum got himself a Coke from the fridge and sat down next to me. The table was small and I felt the electricity again. I had pulled out my textbook from my book bag, which I’d placed next to my chair, and looked at him expectantly. Callum just had a notebook and pencil.

  “Where’s your textbook?”

  “Not sure.” he said as he cracked open his soda can. When I raised my eyebrows he shrugged. “I think it’s at school.”

  “How do you plan to do your Calc homework if your book is MIA?”

  “I’ll track it down. Right now I can just look off of yours,” and he scooted his chair around to my side so we were inches away from each other, his left arm resting on the table so close to mine that I could feel his body heat. I suppressed a gulp, and forced myself not to drool over the muscly forearm right next to me. Just tutor him, Jenny.

  I put on my neutral tutor voice. “OK let’s start with Chapter 1, which Ferguson covered last week. The key concepts are…”

  Callum paid attention and even jotted down some notes as I was talking. When we did the practice quiz at the end of the chapter he did fine. It was like teaching it from scratch as he clearly had learned nothing in class, but he was a quick study. We went over the first part of Chapter 2, up to the material from today’s lesson, and I was satisfied that Callum had grasped it. I began to feel more comfortable around him, thank goodness. There were a couple of times I thought I felt his gaze on me while I was looking at the textbook and we had to sit very close in order to share the book, but every time I looked up to meet his eyes he was looking away.

  “Well I think you’re all caught up now,” I said, glancing at my watch. An hour had flown by. I needed to get home to start my own homework.

  “Cool.” He was glancing at his phone, apparently already thinking about other stuff as I gathered my book bag.

  “Well, see you in class tomorrow.” I said cheerily, annoyed to find that I felt reluctant to say goodbye.

  “Maybe, if I decide to come.” His head was down and he was texting. And just like that, there was Mr. Arrogant again.

  I walked toward the door to let myself out and Callum swiftly passed me and opened it. Arrogant or not, someone had certainly drilled manners into him.

  “Thanks Teach. So, next week, same time same place?” He gave me his best cocky grin, and my heart almost melted, but not quite. Now he puts on the charm?

  “Maybe, if I decide to come.” I heard him chuckling as I walked to my car, but I didn’t look back.

  Chapter 5

  “Hey Jenny.” The football game had ended and we were gathering up our things under the strobe lights. It had been a home game and we’d lost, so the atmosphere was a little subdued as people filed out of the bleachers. I turned around to find Bryce standing by me, sweaty in his uniform, his helmet in one hand and a Gatorade in the other. Despite the dripping sweat and messy helmet hair he looked gorgeous. He towered above me. His eyes raked me up and down in my cheerleading costume. I was pretty sweaty myself but from his look he apparently didn’t mind.

  “Hi.” I said, giving him a shy smile.

  “So, are you coming to my party tonight?” He tipped his head to the side in an adorable way.

  “I think most of the cheerleading squad will be there.” That had come out a little stiff but I felt awkward since he hadn’t formally invited me and we barely knew each other. It seemed presumptuous to say yes.

  He took a step forward, ignoring the shout of “Dude, Bryce lets go” from one of his teammates. He was now standing a few inches from me. I had to tilt my head up to meet his eyes.

  “But will YOU be there?” He had a small smile on his face but his gaze was intense.

  I nodded, feeling too nervous to even say yes. What a loser I was. The most popular guy in the school was telling me he cared whether I went to his party or not and I couldn’t even speak.

  “Awesome. See you tonight then.” He gave me a panty melting smile, then turned and walked away toward the locker rooms. Holy dreamboat.

  I headed into the girls’ locker rooms to get my stuff, kind of tripping out from the encounter with Bryce. All he’d done was ask if I was coming to his party and commented that he was happy I would be there. Still, that was tantamount to a declaration of interest. Lacey and Alex were on their way out the door, still in their cheerleading costumes. The showers were gross so we all tried to shower at home when we could. They stopped, duffle bags over their shoulders.

  “So, were you waylaid by Bryce, is that why you’re late?” Lacey was psychic or something. Alex looked at me with frank curiosity.

  I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “He was checking to see if I’m coming tonight.”

  Lacey nodded approvingly. “Good. He’s staking his claim early and will make his move at the party.”

  “Wow what are you, the puppeteer? I hope you’re not orchestrating all this, Lacey.”

  Alex looked shocked that I would speak so tartly to the Queen Bee. But Lacey’s involvement here was bordering on annoying.

  But Lacey laughed genuinely. “You are hilarious Jenny. I have not said one word to him. I just know how guys think, that’s all. You sure you don’t want me to pick you up?”

  “No, thanks, I’ll meet you there.” I wanted to have my car so I could leave if I wasn’t having a good time.

  “OK, I’ll text you when I’m leaving so we can arrive at the same time.” I knew this was for my benefit since Lacey could stroll into that party alone and own it, but she knew I was a little nervous about walking in by myself. My irritation with her gave way to gratitude.

  After the girls left I got my things and hurried home to shower, eat something, and get ready before driving myself to the party. Parties stressed me out. I was better at one on one conversation than navigating through a group. I was wearing a silky gray tank and a navy bubble skirt, very short, with jeweled leather flip flops. When I’d decided to move up socially I’d started paying more attention to my wardrobe, with help from Tina. My budget was limited so I relied on Forever 21 and H&M sale racks. I was a pretty good bargain hunter: shopping was kind of tedious but it wasn’t rocket science. Looking at myself in the mirror now, I felt good. My hair was down and I’d put on mascara, which I rarely wore. I facetimed with Tina quickly to show her how I looked. She approved.

  “If Bryce doesn’t find me attractive in this outfit there’s not much more I can do.” But my show of confidence didn’t stop the butterflies.

  As I drove to the party, though, my mind drifted away from Bryce to Callum. We hadn’t spoken since our tutoring session on Wednesday. The next day in Calc he had come into the classroom after I was already seated. I’d watched him as he walked down the aisle toward me, somehow deluded into thinking he was walking toward me. Which of course he wasn’t, he just walked past my desk then over to his usual seat. He didn’t look at me until he was right by my desk, at which point he caught my eye and nodded silently. I gave him a small smile. He then ran his knuckles lightly across the top of the desk as he continued past.

  At that casual gesture, which he probably barely noticed he did, I fe
lt my heart thump in my chest and my face flush. What the heck, Jenny? I was pissed at myself for my reaction, no, overreaction. His nod had been courteous, a student acknowledging his tutor, and the hand on the desk was just a funny gesture that was probably easier than actually talking to me. But I had watched that hand, fingers loosely closed, drift by like a feather across the desktop, and I pictured myself on my back, and my stomach was the desktop. His magnetic pull on me had to stop. Now.

  If that Noelle girl was his type, then he definitely wouldn’t be into me: talk about opposites in looks. She had a few inches on my 5’5”, and she kind of slouched supermodel style, while I had ramrod straight posture. Our coloring was completely different too: I was tanned from swimming, for starters. On confident days I thought of my hair as caramel but really it was light brown, and my eyes were a darker shade of brown than my hair (Seb, in happier times, had called them toffee colored). I was thin too, but more athletic and curvy than Crab Girl. And forget about the clothes and my lack of tats and piercings. So yep, I was so not his type. I blinked my eyes shut briefly to pull myself together, then focused on Mr. F.

  On Friday I purposefully showed up to class late so that Callum was already in his seat. I forced myself not to make eye contact as I sat down, and didn’t turn around during class.

  Now, as I approached Bryce’s house, I wondered what Callum was up to at this moment. He certainly wouldn’t be at this party, since he moved in very different circles and made no secret of his antipathy toward this crowd. Well screw him, these were my friends. Sort of.

  From what I could tell in the dark, Bryce’s house was big and, if not quite as luxurious as Lacey’s, still spelled money. Cars were parked all up and down the street but I was able to squeeze my little bug in a spot close to the house where the other cars and SUVs couldn’t fit. Loved my car! There was Lacey’s Audi: good. I felt better knowing she was inside. I didn’t bother to text her to meet me at the door. I could go in on my own. Music and voices reached me as I walked up the driveway and in through the front door. I didn’t bother to knock as I doubted anyone would hear me. The party was jumping, with music and warm bodies and loud talking engulfing me. I recognized a lot of faces but not all, not that most of them would know me. I scanned the crowd for Lacey but didn’t see her.