Perfect Faults

4| Max

Being the captain of the team is interesting, but that's until you start going to practice earlier than the rest of the team. That isn't done in other teams though, it's just another one of Coach's shit about ethics.

While I was getting a fucking cappuccino to jilt me awake fully, Scott is probably just waking up because he was still in a slumber when I left home. I was about to drive away from the coffee shop when I saw her- my tutor.

She was jogging down the street with a black lululemon. This was the first time I'd see her along this route and I literally pass here every morning to practice. She stopped to take a breather, resting on her knees before drinking out of her bottle. She does have a good ass, I'd give her that.

Roaring Nyx- my black Ford- back to life, I trailed slowly behind her, maintaining the side lane so as not to hinder other cars from passing. The last time we met, she had her hair braided to the back, but now, it's packed into a bun. The other day, I wasn't planning on guilt trapping her with my learning disorder, but eventually, I did. It was either that, or she also leaves like all the other fucked up tutors I've had before her and I'd rather pick her.

I wasn't gonna deny that I don't find her attractive, I think that was among the reasons I was quick to reveal that to her, and coupled with the fact that she doesn't fangirl me when we meet.

I watched her as she jogged down even though I know every second I waste here is gonna cost a lap with Coach. She probably wasn't gonna hear if I honked the horn considering she had her earphones plugged in, so I cornered her instead, swerving the car towards towards the pavement. That got her attention and she stopped, turning towards me as I got off Nyx.

"Hi," she said breathlessly.

"Good morning," she took another drink out of her bottle and took off her headphones.

"Morning. What are you doing here?" She asked.

"Practice." She scrunched her nose at me. "This early?" She added.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm late now. I didn't know you jogged round this place," This route is the only one I take while going to practice every morning since freshman year, and I haven't seen her around here before.

"I changed my course." That explains it.

"We're still on for tomorrow right?" Our session was tomorrow, same time and place.

"Yeah. This time, try not to be late." Her voice has a teasing tone to it, but her face remained passive. This was different from the usual purring and giggles I receive when I'm in the midst of progesterones, it's like a whole different world around her.

"I won't." I said as she excused herself and went back to her drill.
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I got to the coffee shop right on time and didn't see her anywhere in sight, looks like she's the one running late today. I sat at the same table as the other day, awaiting her presence, and it wasn't too long before she graced me with it.

"Hi, sorry I'm late." She settled down at the seat across mine, reaching inside her bag to bring out her books and some highlighters.

"It's fine." The highlighters were for me though I wasn't expecting her to come with any in the first place. I've used them in the past during my after school lessons with my private teacher.

Being dyslexic hasn't always been a solid point for me, it was less of a counterbalance with my skilled reflexes in basketball. Ever since I was a little boy, as far as I can remember, basketball has always been my forte.

Contrary to my dad's choice about joining hands with my brother and focusing more on the family business, I've been more of a rebel to him. My dad has never been a fan of me playing basketball, and being dyslexic kinda fueled his odium towards me.