The Tutor

(1) Sorry?

Hey, everyone! Well, here it is! I hope you enjoy, and don't forget to leave a vote or drop a comment! That would help me out a lot.

Sorry?. . .

"You do realize that you're failing my class, right," he asked raising his eyebrow expectantly.

I snorted. "Tell me something I don't know," I mumbled, slouching down in the chair and folding my arms across my chest in a bored manner. I rolled my eyes, looking away from him and towards the dull classroom around me.

"And that kind of behavior, Mr. Stevenson, is exactly why you're failing. You don't pay attention in my class and blah bluh blah bluh blah . . ."

"Look, can I go now," I blurted out, cutting him off while he was mid-sentence.

He stopped talking and clenched his jaw as his right eye twitched; something it usually did when he was angry at me.

Slightly amused by this I smirked and raised an eyebrow at him.

"As I was saying," he continued, his voice straining to keep calm. "If you continue with this kind of behavior and if your grades don't improve, then I have no choice but to fail you. And if you fail my class then you'll be at risk of being retained and forced to repeat the 12th grade."

"Well," I said placing my hands flat on his desk and pushing myself up. "I guess that's a risk I'm just gonna have to take." Shrugging solemnly I walked away from his desk and towards the door.

"Wyatt, wait," Mr. Gore called, causing me to stop and turn around with a puzzled look on my face. He never called me by my first name.

Mr. Gore was pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed thoughtfully. He sighed before removing his hand, opening his eyes and looking at me with a tiredness I just now recognized. "That's not what I called you in here to tell you."

"Okay," I drawled out slowly, shifting my weight to my left leg impatiently. "Then what did you call me in here for?"

"Since you're failing my class I took it upon myself to find someone to help you," he said entwining his hands and resting them on top of his desk with a satisfied grin.

"Psshh," I said waving a dismissive hand in the air. "I don't need any help-"

"You do want to pass my class, right?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"Then you shouldn't have a problem with having someone tutor you," he pointed out, giving a small shrug.

I ran a frustrated hand down my face and blew out a huge breath. "I don't need a tutor," I said stressing every word.

He dismissed my comment and looked down at a stack of papers on his desk. Rifling through them he held up one and read it silently to himself. "You do know who Jennifer Moore is, correct?"

I shrugged nonchalantly. "Never heard of her," I replied honestly.

"Well, the period you have me? She's in it; but you wouldn't know that since you're either disrupting my class or sleeping."

I shrugged again. "And your point is . . .?"

"I asked her to tutor you and she very kindly accepted to help a classmate in need," he told me. "And I don't want you to waste this opportunity because it's the only one you'll be getting."

"This is some serious bullshit," I mumbled rolling my eyes and kicking at one of the desks I was standing by. Fortunately, he hadn't heard me.

"You'll meet in my class Monday after school. Then you two can set up a schedule."