Hey Tutor.

AVA

I really… reallyyyyy don't like the fact that I am here.

The Dean's Office smells like coffee and mango air freshener, but the smell combo is not really my issue.

My main issue is the asshole standing on the other side of the room across from me.

Kevin Carter.

He is just resting there on the wall like this meeting is the least important thing in his life, his hockey jacket hanging open over his wrinkled white T-shirt. His eyes are pinned on me while his backpack is on the floor beside him, untouched.

Feeling a bit sore, I adjust my weight on my right leg, my arms folded across my chest as I watch the dean flipping through a stack of papers on her desk.

As for Mr Asshole Carter, he is still leaning against the wall but now, he is spinning a hockey puck across his fingers with effortless arrogance, the clicking sounds already bugging my nerves.

Click.

Spin.

Catch.

Click.

Spin.

Catch.

Click.

Fuckkkkk!

I glare at him.

He notices and smirks.

“Any problem?” he asks.

I pull out my phone, my thumbs already moving quickly across the screen as I type: ‘Only that your ego barely fits inside this office, dickhead.’

Done typing, I turn the screen towards him.

He reads the words and laughs.

“You have got jokes,” he taunts.

I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Can the two of you stop bickering for one minute?” The dean frowns, pinching the bridge of her nose.

I withdraw my phone back into my pocket while the asshole keeps smirking.

“I have received three separate complaints about the argument you two had outside the library yesterday,” The dean says, still frowning.

Kevin shrugs. “It wasn't really an argument.”

I glare at him and take out my phone again before typing seven words in thick capital letters:

‘YOU YELLED AT ME FIRST YOU ASSHOLE!’

I hold it up.

“Is this true, Kevin?” The dean asks immediately.

“She started it,” Kevin defends himself, pointing at me.

I angrily type again:

‘YOU ACCUSED ME OF HIDING YOUR BIOLOGY NOTES BUT YOU LEFT THEM IN THE LOCKER ROOM!’

The dean reads my phone screen and turns to look at Kevin, who also just finished reading my angry text on my phone.

“Well…” he stalls, rubbing the back of his neck. “She's… right.”

“Seems we are making progress,” The dean nearly snaps at him.

Kevin scoffs. “She is so annoying.”

Me? Annoying?

Most times, people often see me typing my words because I can't speak and just like that, they assume I am unable to grasp everything during a conversation. They often forget that even though I can't speak, I can still hear every word they say about me.

Every. Single. Word.

I hear everything.

But sometimes, I wish I didn't.

“Kevin,” the dean closes the file in front of her. “Your grades are getting so much worse. Currently, you are failing two core classes.”

“Uhm,” Mr Asshole winces and straightens his height a little. “I have been busy.”

“Playing hockey is not an excuse,” The dean shoots back at him and slides a sheet across the desk. “You have missed important assignments and this time, charming your professors is not going to work.”

“But it always works—”

“Not this time around,” the dean retorts sternly, her sharp words quickly wiping his smug smirk off his face.

“Ava,” The dean turns towards me. “You are still the highest performing student in the department. You have also worked as a peer tutor for two years and I am so proud of you for helping others,” she smiles and instantly, my stomach sinks.

I already know where this is going.

“From now henceforth, you will be tutoring Kevin for the remainder of the semester.”

What?!

“Seriously?!” Kevin laughs both in shock and mockery.

I lift my phone and begin typing my response to the dean:

‘Absolutely not. Please Ma'am, assign someone else.’

I show the dean my screen and she looks at it.

“No,” She shakes her head.

I type again:

‘He doesn't want me.’

I show the dean my screen again and she shakes her head once more, still refusing to free me from this asshole.

Fuck.

“Honestly, I don't want her,” Kevin confirms my words, now looking dead serious and pissed.

“Listen here Mister Carter,” the dean leans forward on her desk and folds her hands. “Ava here is the right tutor for you because every other tutor you’ve had allowed you to get away with doing nothing to improve your grades, but Ava here won't be going easy on you. Right now, if I were you, I'd be more concerned about my future than my useless ego. Do you understand me?”

Kevin says nothing.

“I believe your silence is answer enough,” the dean smiles victoriously. “Both of you will meet three evenings a week in the academic resource center. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Now, you may leave.”

I storm out of the office first.

Gosh.

Behind me, I hear the office door closing and from the sandalwood cologne already hitting my nostrils, I can already tell that Mr Asshole is out of the office too.

“I bet you will enjoy failing me during our tutor lessons,” he taunts.

I snap around, clashing face to face with his signature smirk.

I smirk right back before flipping him my two middle fingers.

He scoffs. “You are evil.”

I shrug.

“Fuck. Having you as my tutor is the worst punishment I will ever have to endure,” he sighs and I flip him my middle fingers again.

“You know, for someone who never talks…” He points at my fingers. “...you sure have a lot to say with other parts of your body.”

I smile.

Not because he is funny.

But because he is finally growing some brain cells.

Still smiling, I drop my hands to my sides and turn to leave.

“Hey,” he calls out.

I don't stop.

“Hey Tutor.”

I stop this time around and that's mostly because I already hate that nickname.

Clenching my fists, I turn back to face him.

“You really don't like me huh?” He teases, still wearing that infuriating smirk.

I flip him my middle fingers again.

“Ouch,” he dramatically presses a hand over his chest. “I will take that as a no, but damn, you are cruel. I have never met a girl who doesn't like me. You are hurting my feelings, princess.”

Feelings?!

Does this fuckboy asshole even have feelings?!

“Well, no girl can resist me for too long,” he proudly crosses his arms across his chest and winks. “You will come around eventually.”

Rolling my eyes at him, I pull out my phone.

Done typing the text response I have for him in furious capital letters, I show him the screen and he reads the words:

‘I'D RATHER DATE A CACTUS.’

A woman passing by snorts so loudly she has to cover her mouth while looking away from my phone's screen.

Despite the woman's reaction, Kevin doesn't even look bothered.

In fact, he looks like he is enjoying this.

“Well, this is going to be so much fun,” he seductively bites his lower lip before flashing me a killer smile, his blue eyes locked onto mine. “I accept your challenge, Tutor. Let's see how long you are willing to resist me.”