"I'm home!" Connor shouts as soon as we step inside his house. Before anyone can respond, he grabs my hand, pulling me up the stairs. His house is large, bright, and immaculately clean—not a thing out of place. The upstairs is just as pristine, with a wide hallway lined by closed doors. Connor leads me to the last door, pulling me inside and slamming it shut behind us. His room is just as spotless as the rest of the house. "Your room is neater than mine," I remark, my eyes landing on his perfectly made bed. My blanket is probably still half on the floor back home, and Humphrey is likely curled up on it. "Yeah, my mom’s a clean freak. She gets nervous when things are messy," Connor explains. I take in the details of his room—big bed by the window, a desk with a gaming computer, a TV facing a couch, a PlayStation, a big stereo, and several dressers. "Thanks for saving my ass earlier," Connor says, grabbing two beers from a mini fridge. He offers me one, but I shake my head. Drinkin
"He's just so hot. I can't concentrate when he talks to me," Lina whispers next to me.I roll my eyes. I really wish they’d stop talking about my brother. Mason had walked past us a few minutes ago, sternly telling us to be quiet while we waited for our next class. Or as everyone else knows him, Mr. Jackson. No one knows he’s my brother, except a few teachers and my best friend, Hannah—who also happened to have a secret crush on him. She is cured, thankfully. Mason teaches Business English and is in a loving relationship with my other best friend, Esme."You think so? He's got nothing on Mr. Adkins. I’d eat him for breakfast," Charlotte chimes in.Okay. I’d rather hear about my brother than Mr. Adkins. And speak of the devil—here he comes.Mr. Adkins, the teacher who hates me the most. I honestly have no idea why. Sure, I’m failing his class, and maybe I don’t cower under his death glare, but other than that, I’m clueless. Still, I can’t stand his voice, and I’m sure the feeling is mu
He ignores my comment and turns his attention back to the class. Without explaining the answer, he carries on as if nothing happened. Another hour passes, and I rest my head on my hand, barely holding myself up, eyes fixed on Mr. Adkins as he talks.He might be an asshole, but at least he's a good-looking one. I wouldn’t call him hot, like my classmates do—his awful personality drops his attractiveness by about 80%. But that remaining 20%... His dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and sharp features are reminiscent of Peter Badenhop and Sahib Faber.He’s always in a black business attire, hiding his build but not the fact that he’s athletic. His muscles flex whenever he writes, and the stubble on his jaw is always perfectly trimmed.The worst part? He knows he’s attractive. That just makes him more unbearable.When the bell rings, the whole class stays seated. They always do with him. He gives an order, and everyone follows.He turns to face us, scanning the room with a sharp gaze. Lina sits
"Take your time; only twenty people are waiting," someone snaps from behind me. I immediately pull away from Hannah’s arms. Even she seems surprised by the interruption from Mr. Adkins. But then I notice we are standing against the door, and everybody is actually waiting for us. "Sorry, sir," I mumble, avoiding his gaze. Trying to be nice to him is going to be harder than I thought. I quickly move to the back of the class and sit down, pulling out my phone before Mr. Adkins calls for silence. -Nora: Hey, Con. Can you help me with math? Exams are coming up, and I'm failing. My phone buzzes almost instantly. -Connor: I'm failing math too. I can help you though. -Connor: This weekend? Fuck sake. Of course. With a sigh, I open my textbook and actually attempt to pay attention. The first thirty minutes go okay, but soon enough, the numbers on the board start blending together. I peek at Hannah’s notes, noticing numbers that aren't even on the board. I frown, completely lost. It
"Wait, you will be tutoring me?" I ask, eyes widening. "Is that a problem?" he replies, walking back to his desk. I hesitate for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. It absolutely fucking is. "Uhh... no, of course not. When are we starting?" I ask after a brief pause. "That keen, are we?" I hear the humor in his tone, his back still turned to me as he gathers his things. "Keen as a bean," I mutter sarcastically. I had hoped someone else would be tutoring me. He turns around and gives me a piercing look, his eyes flicking to my stuff. "Well, bean, hurry up. You've got a book to read." Right. I hurry to the back of the class, gathering my things in a rush. The book is too big to fit in my bag, so I hold it against my chest and walk toward him. He's already waiting by the door. "So... when do we start, exactly?" I ask again for clarification. "I told you. Once you've read the entire book," he says nonchalantly. "The book is, like, 500 pages. That'll take me ages. By the tim
We live in a semi-big house with a nice garden, plenty of space for just Mason and me. There are four bedrooms, so we always have room for guests. Ramon, Mason’s best friend, practically lives here, so one of those rooms is basically his. Esme, Mason’s girlfriend, is over a lot too, although she sleeps in Mason’s bed, along with the occasional... unfortunate noises. Esme recently graduated from law school and works at a small firm nearby. She's still in her party phase and makes sure I get to experience some semblance of a "student life." She even tags along to parties thrown by my friends, keeping my brother's teacher status under wraps like a pro.“A Porsche Cayenne,” Mason says, interrupting my thoughts. “But apparently, he’s got another car too.”"Ah, right," I reply with a bored tone.A dickhead car.Mason turns on The Office as we dig into dinner. We laugh at the show, and by dessert, he’s already in teacher mode. “I need to grade some papers. Want to help?”“What’s in it for me
On Thursday, I made it through another half of the math book. The numbers were starting to blur together, and after a while, I wasn’t even sure what I was reading anymore, but I pushed on. The sooner I finish, the sooner I can start tutoring. When Friday arrives, the day of our trip to Mr. Adkins' other workplace, I almost consider skipping it. Do I really want to endure more of his torture? "What if I just told him I died or something?" I sigh to Hannah during our break. "Yeah, that’ll work. He’ll totally buy it," she smirks as she gathers her stuff. I still can't shake the memory of his hand gripping my arm and tightening when I dropped his book. The book now has a permanent crease as a reminder. Sure, he saved me from falling, but only after causing the near-disaster in the first place. And yes, he stood way too close to me... but maybe that was because I refused to give his stuff back. "Girls! Hurry up, or we’ll be late!" Lina shouts, heading over with Charlotte. I let out a
"I'm Richard, by the way," he says as he leads me into an office in the corner. "What's your name?" he asks, turning to me."Norali," I reply softly. He opens the door, and I'm immediately drawn to the wall filled with photos."Beautiful," I hear him murmur. The first few are typical group shots, people posing for the camera. As I walk past them, my eyes scanning for a particular person, I freeze. My eyes snap to him in the next picture. He's off to the side, holding a drink, surrounded by three women. He's not smiling, but they are. I've never seen him smile. "That was last month," Richard says. I move to the next photo. There he is again, more disheveled this time, his blazer gone, the top buttons of his shirt open. He looks much more drunk. A woman with black hair is laughing next to him, her hand resting on his knee. He’s not looking at the camera but off to the side, his grip tight on the back of a couch. What was he looking at? "You know... you're literally one of the most