Page 2 of Practicing With My Tutor

As she walks out of the classroom, I know that I’m beyond help. Talking to her only makes me want her more. After a conversation with the professor, I head to the library to get started on grading the newest stack of papers he’s handed me. I don’t really get much done, though. I’m too absorbed in my thoughts about making Julie mine and using our tutoring sessions to win her affections.

Fuck the rules that are in place. I’ll figure out how to get around them. The only thing that matters is getting Julie.

Chapter Two

Julie

It took a lot of courage to go to Blaine yesterday. I’ve been watching him for the last few weeks, admiring his devilish good looks. At night, I see his dark blue eyes and perfectly-coiffed chestnut hair in my dreams. It’s honestly a surprise to me that I’ve maintained such high marks in the class when he’s all I can think about.

I realize now that maybe I should have come up with a better reason for seeing him, but after several discussions with my coworkers, I thought tutoring would be the least obvious excuse. None of us took into account that I probably have the highest grade in the class. Judging by Blaine’s reaction, he didn’t buy that I needed help. Still, he agreed and I got his phone number, so it’s definitely a win.

We didn’t text much, but he did ask how my shift was when I got home from work last night. It made me feel all warm inside. I know my crush on him is silly considering he’s older than me and also technically one of my teachers, but I can’t help it. He’s clearly intelligent, and we share a common interest in history.

Even though I’ve never been with anyone – or had a boyfriend, for that matter – I know that it takes more than attraction and one common interest to have a successful relationship. That’s the reason that I want to get to know him better.

It might be naive, but I think we might have a chance. Sure, we’ve only had a few conversations and all of them have been about the class, but he’s endlessly interesting. Plus, his voice is like hot coffee. It warms me from the inside and gives me the boost I need to do whatever the day has in store for me.

After my classes wrapped up today, I headed home with a renewed spring in my step. Now, I’m standing in the middle of my bedroom with half of my closet spread out on my bed in front of me. We’re only going to be going over the newest material, but I want to dress to impress.

I end up calling Nicole, my coworker who slowly became one of my best friends, for advice. After a short video call where we decide on baby blue sundress and a white cardigan, I’m satisfied with what I’m wearing. I head to my bathroom and put on just a little bit of makeup. I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard, but this is all about putting my best foot forward.

Once I’m ready, I sit around waiting until it’s time for me to leave. I take deep breaths, doing my best to quell my nerves. What if he sees right through me? I don’t know if I can take that embarrassment.

Finally, it’s time to go, so I grab my bag and head to the bus stop. The ride to Blaine’s apartment is short, which is good considering how packed the bus is. Apparently, I got on at the same time as a bulk of students are trying to get off campus.

The complex Blaine lives in is modest. There are ten apartments, five on the ground floor and five right on top. Blaine’s is on the right corner of the second floor. There’s a plain mat on the ground outside, and a Christmas wreath still hanging on the door months after the holiday is over.

He answers almost immediately after I knock. My heart pounds in my chest now that I’m looking at him face to face. His hair is a little damp, strands of it sticking to his forehead, and I can smell his spicy, earthy shower gel. I wonder if he just got back from the gym. He is a fairly well-built man, so it would make sense if he used some of his spare time lifting weights.

“Hey,” he says, his voice washing over me. “Right on time.”

“I wanted to be punctual,” I say, gripping the strap of my backpack nervously.

“Makes sense,” Blaine replies, stepping back and gesturing for me to come into the apartment. “It seems like you take your studies pretty seriously.”

“I do,” I say as I take in the mismatched, eclectic collection of furniture. Everything looks secondhand, but somehow, if taken as a whole instead of just its parts, seems like a complete collection. “I have a scholarship to keep, after all.”

“Strange that you don’t have a full ride,” he says, closing the door and leading me to the kitchen. “I might not be allowed to say this, but in our class at least, you have the highest marks. This school is crazy for not funding your entire education.”

“Oh, I do. The scholarship I got covers just about everything I need,” I say, pulling my notes out of my backpack.

“So are you just working at Lucky’s for extra cash?”

I shrug. “Not exactly. My dad was just really particular about me getting a job. He said a full ride is no excuse to be lazy.”

He snorts, looking me over. “Lazy? Has he even met you?”

His eyes on me make me shy. I tuck my hair behind my ear and say, “He has some... high standards.” It’s a massive understatement, but he doesn’t need to know just how crazy my parents are.

His face is all hard lines and angles, so I’m surprised by how much his expression softens. “I’ve been there. My parents are the same way. I can’t begin to tell you how disappointed they are.”

“In you? But you’re in grad school.” How could anyone not be impressed by Blaine? He’s one of the smartest people I’ve ever met. I’d listen to him over most of my professors in a heartbeat.

“Grad school, not medical school,” he explains with a smile. “They’re both doctors. They figured I’d follow their lead.”

“Is there a reason you didn’t?” I blush when he raises an eyebrow at me. “It just seems like you would make a really good doctor.” With his capable, comforting presence, I could see him being fantastic with patients. Plus, he would look pretty good in a white coat.

He’s quiet for a moment. “I guess it just... never held my interest.” He chuckles softly and says, “That probably sounds pretty selfish, choosing history over medicine.”

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