Michelle's ex-boyfriend

Chapter - 7 Tutored by stalker

Lana pipes

I stood in front of my stalker's porch, Ugh, I don't want to be tutored by this creep but I don't want to fail either. Today is such a mess, a whole ride of dubious emotions. And this person is dubious as hell. Not to mention, how dubious Mom became after meeting him. There could be a million things I'd be doing right now, rather than standing here, for instance watching Anime, listening to the music industry herself "Taylor Swift". Watching Scooby-Doo with Ben is most of all very better than being tutored by this creep.

I lifted my finger unwillingly to ring his doorbell. Within seconds, the door was opened. "I thought you might not show up," Creep exclaimed. "Believe me, I was so close to doing that. But what can I say, One's weakness is always another's strength. And for us, that is named Chemistry." I said displeased.

"Then let's get started with it shall we?" He said pointing to the hall and gesturing for me to seat on the sofa. I sat and started to open the Chemistry textbook. "What topic is it?" He questioned. "Something, about Organic chemistry, Carbon chains etc, stuff," I answered.

"Well, that's easy"

"It might be for you, but not for me. That is why I'm here, in case you forgot. It's always a pain in the ass for me."

"No, I didn't and my job is to teach you, which I will and if you learn it properly, it might even become a pleasure in the ass."

What does he mean with all his jibber-jabber talks? I opened my mouth to tell something but it is he who started to talk again. "Now you know the basics about carbon right?" He asked professionally. I shook my head. "Alright, I'll teach you." He said and continued to tell me more about what carbon is, its forms and atomic number. I hate to admit it but, he is teaching very well. His style is exquisite. He looks even more ravishing while teaching than normal.

"Are you understanding?"

I snapped out of my thoughts. "Perfectly."

"Good, then we shall proceed with its bonding and chains." He comprehensively explained how they bond and how their cyclic chains are called and classified. He explained the covalent bond of atoms and how carbon has four covalent bonds. He expounded on what are alkanes, alkene, and alkyne is, Alkanes have only single bonds between carbon atoms and are called saturated hydrocarbons. Alkenes have at least one carbon-carbon double bond. Alkynes have one or more carbon-carbon triple bonds. Alkenes and alkynes are called unsaturated hydrocarbons.

"What is an unsaturated bond?" I questioned, feeling a little confused with these all-new terms, even though I might have listened to them in class.

"In carbon compounds, unsaturated have more than one bond like double or triple."

I nodded. "Then, methane -" He continued to tell something, I took a look at my watch, it was 15 past 8 already, and I have to meet Paxton. "Please, enough for today, my brain can't digest anymore." I nearly cried.

"Fine then, I'll see you tomorrow"

"Tomorrow is Sunday."

"And the day after tomorrow is Monday, which is when you have your test."

"Fine, I'll come, only because you teach well, despite your pique."

"I'll take it as a compliment." He said almost smiling yet not completely.

I took a look around his house, which is now very well arranged with systematized paintings. They all are prepossessing. It contains assorted forms of art. "What are all these paintings' names?" I asked intrigued.

"These are, Realism, Photorealism, Expressionism, Impressionism, Abstract, Surrealism, Pop Art and Oil." He said pointing to each one, telling their names, these are hung all over his house, in the kitchen, balcony, hall, and bedroom everywhere. I've never been a huge fan of arts but this-, this is something beyond extraordinary. We were in his bedroom, and he was telling me about Realism art, and how he like it the most. There was one more picture near to nightstand, placed almost near a little bit like a garbage bin.

I went forward to take a look, it was painted in black and white, unlike the rest. It is beautifully painted with care, I can tell just by looking at it. But- BUT, why does it kinda look like my mom? I am not entirely sure that it is Mom because the top of the face is not entirely visible, it's like it is covered with mist, only the chin, and the mouth is completely visible and half of the nose is. Her hair ain't curly, it's straight unlike my mom, but it is me who insisted her doing it curly. Is it my mom or not?

I went nearer, to have a perspicuous view. The more I look at it, the more it is disturbing me. "What's that?" I gestured towards that painting, looking him in the eye. His expression changed into obscure. "That's monochrome, made with a single colour." He declared as if it is the answer to my question when it is not. I need more. "We both know I'm not asking what category of painting it is." Our gazes are now locked with each other. "Who is that?" I questioned, trying to break this intense contact.

He is so calm, not willing to tell. Does he think, I'm gonna stop if he doesn't answer? I'd love to prove him wrong. "Jaro, who is she? Why does she look familiar to me?" Again, no answer. "I swear if you don't answer-" He raised a hand slowly to stop me. "Trust me, you don't know her, at least not in the way I do." He exhaled. "Why bother about her anyway." He stopped.

"You have a past with her, don't you?"

He nodded. "You don't leave anything easily, do you?"

For some reason I kinda smiled, yes, I am stubborn about things. "Why keep that thing when you hate her." I scorned. He looked confused. "I mean her painting, I can see you hate her, it's written all over your face."

Now he laughed. For some reason he looked pretty, even handsome, perhaps it was his damn smile. "I've thought about that, but somehow that turned out to be my best work." He said rolling his eyes.

"That's the only thing you painted in black and white?"

"Yes. One and only. I've tried to best it, but sadly, it turned out that I'm not so good at monochrome."

"Then how did you paint this so well?" I asked intrigued. Honestly, that is pure work of fine art.

"Love." He said his brows knitting.

"Maybe, that is why you were never again able to paint it again," I said deeply thinking, not even knowing why I said that.

Q/A-

Q. Would you get tutored by your neighbour/stalker?

A-

Author's Note:

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