My life as a loser in High School.
014
“Right, we better make this quick.” I warned, throwing my bag onto the floor. Dylan peeked up from his book, looking at me through his dark lashes.
“We’ve got this for an hour. Having a tantrum won’t make it go any faster.” He smirked.
“I do not throw tantrums.” I huffed. “I’m, like, sixteen now. I’m not three.”
“Could have fooled me.” He muttered under his breath. I decided to ignore him. “So, according to your report card, you’re doing the worst in Maths.”
“How did you get my report card?” I questioned alarmed. I didn’t want anyone finding out my bad grades; least of all Dylan. He rolled his eyes as if the answer was obvious.
“I’m your tutor now. I need to know your grades so I can decide which subjects to work on the most.” I didn’t say anything, I just glared at him. “So Maths...” He trailed off, flicking through some work sheets. I sighed and gazed around the classroom. It was just us and one other couple doing this tutoring thing. The teacher- whose name I did not know- sat at the front “supervising” although he was reading the paper and eating an apple.
“Can’t we just hurry up?” I whinged. The hands on the clock had stopped, or maybe they were just moving incredibly slowly. I ran my fingers over the graffiti that was carved into the wooden desk. I wondered if Rosie still loved Lewis, like, “4ever”.
“Here,” He said slapping a book on my side of the desk. “Work through these questions.”
“I can’t do these!” I said, looking at the numbers in horror. They didn’t make any sense to me. “You’re supposed to be my tutor. You’re supposed to teach me how to do them.”
“I was getting to that before you started bitching at me.” He retorted sharply.
I gasped loudly. “Did you just call me a bitch?!” The teacher looked up and told us to be quiet, his dark eyes narrowing at us, or rather, me.
He rolled his green eyes and sighed heavily. “No, Brianna, I didn’t.”
“You two, get on with it now! I’m only babysitting you; I don’t expect all this arguing.” The teacher yelled, his eyes glaring dangerously at us. It seemed we had disturbed him from his paper.
“Fine.” I said through gritted teeth. Dylan glanced at me and smirked. I had to bite my tongue to stop myself swearing at him and I never swear- it’s unladylike. “I don’t understand this question.” It killed me asking for help, it really did. He studied the paper for a second before scooting a little closer to me.
“Right, this is how you do it...” I hated to admit it but he explained things to me far better than any teacher could. I just kinder got it. However, it was rather hard not to get distracted by the fact that his face was kinder close to mine and his pale cheek looked rather soft. In fact it was hard not to touch him and that was ridicules because I didn’t like him that way. In fact, he repulsed me. Yes; that’s it.
“Brie?” Oh, oh. I realised I was staring at him and quickly turned my face away, my cheeks flushing slightly. No cool points for me.
“Sorry, what were you saying?” Wow, I even managed to be polite. I was really getting the hang of this “trying not to kill Dylan” thing. He sighed heavily.
“The sums of these two make X.” He pointed his pen to the numbers on the page. Slowly they began to reform in my mind until they made sense.
“Oh, yeah. I get it.” He suddenly shot me a huge smile and I couldn’t help grinning back. What was up with this scene?
“Good.” His lips were still curved upwards.
“Okay, you can all go home now. We are finished here, thank God.” The teacher shouted, pulling on his jacket. “You have all worked really well today. Well, with a few exceptions.” He glanced at me and Dylan and I ducked my head, trying not to make eye contact. To my surprise Dylan waited for me as I shoved all my books in my bag and pulled my jacket on although he was ready to leave a few minutes ago. Maybe he was planning on murdering me and dumping my body in the school car park now it was all empty? Oh yes, I’ve seen this film. The innocent, sweet blonde girl always dies first.
It was awkward walking out of the school together; outside looked different now that it was totally deserted. I cleared my throat and glanced nervously at him, trying not to let my earlier thoughts be readable on my face. He raised one of his dark eyebrows.
“Why are you doing this?” I questioned him. He studied me for a moment before replying.
“I thought Mr Cooke explained this? The extra credit I will gain if you pass your exams will help me get into college next year.”
“But what if I fail?”
“You won’t.” He said firmly. I smirked slightly.
“What if I fail on purpose?”
“Wow,” He said. “You’d do that just to spite me?” The smirk instantly left my face.
“I guess not.” He laughed at my expression and I frowned at him.
“Good, because I’m gonna make you pass these exams. Even if you do dye your hair blond, I don’t think you fit the “all blondes are idiots” stereotype.” I gasped and shoved him.
“I do not dye my hair blonde!” He laughed louder once again. “It’s all natural.”
“How come you have dark roots then?” He questioned, ruffling my hair.
I had to tell the truth. “My natural hair colours a dark blonde. I get highlights put in to make me look healthier.”
“Uh, huh.” He was still sniggering to himself. “The same way a tan makes people look healthier but instead leaves them with a nasty case of skin cancer?” I smiled and nudged my hip into his. He reached out and tickled me causing me to squeal. A thought hit me; was I flirting with Dylan?
Our laughter died down once we reached the school gate. “Well, I go that way.” I said, nodding towards the empty streets. For some reason I felt a little gutted knowing I was leaving him.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” I nodded even though it wasn’t a question, it was a statement. He turned and took a few steps before I shouted after him; the name slipping through my mouth.
“Dylan!” He spun on his heel and glanced at me with confusion in his eyes. “Can I ask you a question?” I said stupidly. He walked towards me once again, making the gap between us smaller.
“What’s the question?”
I swallowed hard before coming out with it. “Why the mind games?”
“Huh?”
“How come sometimes you’re nice to me and other times you act like a complete asshole?” He paused for a moment before grinning at me. He casually flicked his dark locks behind his ear before taking a step closer to me so our shoes were touching. He leaned in towards me.
“Because it’s fun.” He breathed. He reached out and touched the corner of my mouth gently before tracing my bottom lip. For once, I wasn’t freaking out that his hands might be dirty; I just simply close my eyes.
I could feel my lips forming into the perfect pucker shape and I was ready for him to kiss me. The butterflies in my stomach were going crazy. A few seconds past and I realised I could hear someone laughing.
My eyes snapped open and Dylan was already walking down his street again, his head thrown back as he cackled loudly. My cheeks flushed red with embarrassment and I could feel my eyes prickling with tears.
I hated him.
“We’ve got this for an hour. Having a tantrum won’t make it go any faster.” He smirked.
“I do not throw tantrums.” I huffed. “I’m, like, sixteen now. I’m not three.”
“Could have fooled me.” He muttered under his breath. I decided to ignore him. “So, according to your report card, you’re doing the worst in Maths.”
“How did you get my report card?” I questioned alarmed. I didn’t want anyone finding out my bad grades; least of all Dylan. He rolled his eyes as if the answer was obvious.
“I’m your tutor now. I need to know your grades so I can decide which subjects to work on the most.” I didn’t say anything, I just glared at him. “So Maths...” He trailed off, flicking through some work sheets. I sighed and gazed around the classroom. It was just us and one other couple doing this tutoring thing. The teacher- whose name I did not know- sat at the front “supervising” although he was reading the paper and eating an apple.
“Can’t we just hurry up?” I whinged. The hands on the clock had stopped, or maybe they were just moving incredibly slowly. I ran my fingers over the graffiti that was carved into the wooden desk. I wondered if Rosie still loved Lewis, like, “4ever”.
“Here,” He said slapping a book on my side of the desk. “Work through these questions.”
“I can’t do these!” I said, looking at the numbers in horror. They didn’t make any sense to me. “You’re supposed to be my tutor. You’re supposed to teach me how to do them.”
“I was getting to that before you started bitching at me.” He retorted sharply.
I gasped loudly. “Did you just call me a bitch?!” The teacher looked up and told us to be quiet, his dark eyes narrowing at us, or rather, me.
He rolled his green eyes and sighed heavily. “No, Brianna, I didn’t.”
“You two, get on with it now! I’m only babysitting you; I don’t expect all this arguing.” The teacher yelled, his eyes glaring dangerously at us. It seemed we had disturbed him from his paper.
“Fine.” I said through gritted teeth. Dylan glanced at me and smirked. I had to bite my tongue to stop myself swearing at him and I never swear- it’s unladylike. “I don’t understand this question.” It killed me asking for help, it really did. He studied the paper for a second before scooting a little closer to me.
“Right, this is how you do it...” I hated to admit it but he explained things to me far better than any teacher could. I just kinder got it. However, it was rather hard not to get distracted by the fact that his face was kinder close to mine and his pale cheek looked rather soft. In fact it was hard not to touch him and that was ridicules because I didn’t like him that way. In fact, he repulsed me. Yes; that’s it.
“Brie?” Oh, oh. I realised I was staring at him and quickly turned my face away, my cheeks flushing slightly. No cool points for me.
“Sorry, what were you saying?” Wow, I even managed to be polite. I was really getting the hang of this “trying not to kill Dylan” thing. He sighed heavily.
“The sums of these two make X.” He pointed his pen to the numbers on the page. Slowly they began to reform in my mind until they made sense.
“Oh, yeah. I get it.” He suddenly shot me a huge smile and I couldn’t help grinning back. What was up with this scene?
“Good.” His lips were still curved upwards.
“Okay, you can all go home now. We are finished here, thank God.” The teacher shouted, pulling on his jacket. “You have all worked really well today. Well, with a few exceptions.” He glanced at me and Dylan and I ducked my head, trying not to make eye contact. To my surprise Dylan waited for me as I shoved all my books in my bag and pulled my jacket on although he was ready to leave a few minutes ago. Maybe he was planning on murdering me and dumping my body in the school car park now it was all empty? Oh yes, I’ve seen this film. The innocent, sweet blonde girl always dies first.
It was awkward walking out of the school together; outside looked different now that it was totally deserted. I cleared my throat and glanced nervously at him, trying not to let my earlier thoughts be readable on my face. He raised one of his dark eyebrows.
“Why are you doing this?” I questioned him. He studied me for a moment before replying.
“I thought Mr Cooke explained this? The extra credit I will gain if you pass your exams will help me get into college next year.”
“But what if I fail?”
“You won’t.” He said firmly. I smirked slightly.
“What if I fail on purpose?”
“Wow,” He said. “You’d do that just to spite me?” The smirk instantly left my face.
“I guess not.” He laughed at my expression and I frowned at him.
“Good, because I’m gonna make you pass these exams. Even if you do dye your hair blond, I don’t think you fit the “all blondes are idiots” stereotype.” I gasped and shoved him.
“I do not dye my hair blonde!” He laughed louder once again. “It’s all natural.”
“How come you have dark roots then?” He questioned, ruffling my hair.
I had to tell the truth. “My natural hair colours a dark blonde. I get highlights put in to make me look healthier.”
“Uh, huh.” He was still sniggering to himself. “The same way a tan makes people look healthier but instead leaves them with a nasty case of skin cancer?” I smiled and nudged my hip into his. He reached out and tickled me causing me to squeal. A thought hit me; was I flirting with Dylan?
Our laughter died down once we reached the school gate. “Well, I go that way.” I said, nodding towards the empty streets. For some reason I felt a little gutted knowing I was leaving him.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” I nodded even though it wasn’t a question, it was a statement. He turned and took a few steps before I shouted after him; the name slipping through my mouth.
“Dylan!” He spun on his heel and glanced at me with confusion in his eyes. “Can I ask you a question?” I said stupidly. He walked towards me once again, making the gap between us smaller.
“What’s the question?”
I swallowed hard before coming out with it. “Why the mind games?”
“Huh?”
“How come sometimes you’re nice to me and other times you act like a complete asshole?” He paused for a moment before grinning at me. He casually flicked his dark locks behind his ear before taking a step closer to me so our shoes were touching. He leaned in towards me.
“Because it’s fun.” He breathed. He reached out and touched the corner of my mouth gently before tracing my bottom lip. For once, I wasn’t freaking out that his hands might be dirty; I just simply close my eyes.
I could feel my lips forming into the perfect pucker shape and I was ready for him to kiss me. The butterflies in my stomach were going crazy. A few seconds past and I realised I could hear someone laughing.
My eyes snapped open and Dylan was already walking down his street again, his head thrown back as he cackled loudly. My cheeks flushed red with embarrassment and I could feel my eyes prickling with tears.
I hated him.