Page 40 of Hunter
I needed some space and air to breathe that didn’t smell or taste like him. I literally pushed his ass outta his seat, pointed at a free chair twelve feet away, and made him move to the end of the table. He’s been there ever since and has been staring at his phone or staring at me.
All this craziness happened within the first ten minutes of my new student showing up. I can tell that he already thinks I’m deranged. He keeps asking me if I’m okay.No, I’m fucking not. It honestly feels like I jumped a timeline as soon as the clock struck midnight.
I’m trying to explain the structure and function of cells and keep getting interrupted by my phone going off. The stupid thing won’t stop buzzing with incoming messages. I look up, and thiscabrónis out here shaking his phone in my direction like the magic eight ball I used to play with at Señora Úrsulas.
I swipe mine off the table, but don’t bother checking his messages before stuffing the phone into my hoodie pocket. I’m working, and he needs to wait. It’s clearly not a life-or-death situation. He’s breathing and looks fine to me.Literalmente. Literally.
This man has zero patience and has probably never been ignored a day in his life. Add it to the list of shit that he’s about to learn today.
We glare at each other, and even the frown on his stupid face is attractive.Is he ever not hot? Probably when he plays his hockey game and gets all sweaty and nasty. I bet he even smells bad.Thinking about it, has my scowl cracking into a tiny smile, and I swear his eyes start to glow.
The swimmer clears his throat to get my attention while pointing at his paper. I scan it over and let out a frustrated sigh.Oh, mis diosas, all of this shit is wrong, like every single answer. Let’s hope this guy is better at swimming than he is at basic biology.Seriously, how do you not know what a nucleus is by the time you get to college?
“Do it again, but this time, actually try,” I tell him, ignoring his toddler tantrum when he starts complaining about putting actual effort into doing school work.Cállate, idiota. I don’t give a fuck if you would rather go splash around in a pool than do this. I would rather take a nap than have to sit here and listen to you talk, but here we are, having to do hard things.Finish labeling your cell diagram, you fucking manchild.
I try not to look down at the table when my phone vibrates against myveryfull stomach, and now I feel guilty for not looking at his texts. I still can’t believe he bought me a meal plan. Like, who does that?Es de locos.
Maybe he really is remorseful for what he put me through. The minor guilt that I’m feeling must be a speck of dirt compared to the heap of shit that he must have felt if he was willing to drop five g’s like that. I guess for that kinda money, I can at least look at what he said. Then we’ll see if it’s worth a response.
I pull out my phone while splish-and-splash over here, colors in the mitochondria with his blue pen. He’s got a long fuckingway to go, and I count eleven more parts of the cell that he has to label. Guess it’ll give me some time to read all thirteen of these messages.
This man is fucking crazy. Fine as hell, but fucking nuts. What could he possibly need to tell me thirteen times?
Hunter “Pendejo” Wilton:
How much longer? Bro has five minutes, and then his time’s up.
I don’t like that he’s sitting next to you, and I’m not.
He’s way too fucking close when he listens to you talk.
Speaking of, I didn’t know you taught this, smartypants. You’re some kinda beautiful brainiac, you know that?
I’m gonna take bio and make you tutor me in that shit too.
You already owe me some math sessions.
We can just add some science in there, too.
We can start tomorrow, you know, on Friday. How’s 9 PM? That was when you said you were free, right? Bet you didn’t think I’d be free. Joke's on you, because my schedule’s wide open.
Oh no, you demon, you’re not gonna start ignoring my texts again. Nah, I see you.
Smile at me again, I like it.
This guy’s an idiot.
Even I know where the fucking nucleus is in a cell.
Don’t you learn that shit in middle school?
Someone’s impatient. It’s like he’s sending me a message every time a thought pops into his head.
Hunter “Pendejo” Wilton:
Cut him loose, he’s a lost cause.
Even if this guy is dumber than the fish he tries to swim like, it doesn’t matter. I committed to the session and need to finish it. Back in New York, your word was all you had. It’s how deals were made, both big and small. It didn’t matter what the stakes were. If you gave your word, that was as good as any fucking handshake or signature. That's all I have to give. And based on the time, I have twelve minutes left on the clock.
