Started as His Tutor

Hammers

A ray of light hits my eye and wakes me up. My vision is blurry at first, a swirl of blue and white. I open my eyes and realize I was in Vincent's room. It wasn't some crazy daydream while I was laying on my bed on a boring Friday night. There's footsteps outside the door, approaching closer.

"Vincent, time to wake up honey. I'm going grocery shopping. Did you need anything?" It's Mrs. Miller I'm guessing. Crap. I'm in her son's bed. In a flash, I'm rolling onto the ground behind the bed. Thump! My body falls onto Vincent, who's still sleep, and I bump my head against his chest.

"Ugh," he groans, slowly opening his eyes.

"Shush," I hush him and clasp my hand over his mouth. The door slowly creaks open. There's a moment of silence before someone interrupts.

"Mommy, hurry! I want to go before they run out of the apple fritters!" a girl shrieks from downstairs. Must be his sister.

"Alright, just wait for me in the car." The door closes and there's thumping on the stairs. I hear the car engine start and disappear.

I relax and let my body lay back down. For a moment, I forgot I was still laying on Vincent.

"Sorry!" I roll off of him and bump my head against his wall. I really can't go through a day without embarrassing myself.

"Wow, you moved so fast. Looks like you know what you're doing." He gives me a sly smile. "You must do this often."

My face turns rosy and I reach for the pillow that's on the bed. With one motion, I push the pillow on Vincent's face and push his head down. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of teasing me.

"I'm going home." Racing down the stairs, I give one quick look before opening the front door. The door opens, but is shut right after. Vincent's arm is pressed against it.

"I'll drive you."

"No thanks." My hands yank at the door, and I'm using all of my weight.

"You're still in pajamas." The realization hits me that I look totally disheveled.

"I don't mind," I stubbornly reply. Vincent lets the door swing open, and I'm out in a second. I walk for around two minutes before I feel a jacket wrapped on my shoulders.

"Wear this at least," Vincent mumbles. He's slightly out of breath and he's changed into some shorts and a t-shirt. He still has bed head, but he still looks good. Ugh, what am I saying? I must not be fully awake yet.

"Why? It's hot out."

Vincent coughs and his ears turn red. "Your shirt..."

I look down and I'm horrified to realize I didn't have my bra on. Sure, my chest isn't big, but the shirt I'm wearing is still pretty thin. I'm hoping last night was too dark for him to notice.

"Um, thanks." I quickly put on the jacket and zip it up as high as I can. Vincent keeps walking with me, but the tension between us is too awkward. I don't bother to ask him why.

Once I'm at my house, I ring the bell. Thank goodness my sister, Wren, was already awake. However, when I realized it was already 11 in the morning, I was no longer impressed. Typical time to wake up during the weekend. Vincent's still behind me, and follows me into the house. Wren doesn't even bother to ask about him, taking a box of cinnamon cereal and the carton of chocolate milk upstairs with her, drinking directly from it and shaking some cereal into her mouth.

"Your older sister?" Vincent asks, plopping onto the couch.

"Younger. She's in the 8th grade." I can see how Vincent is mistaken. Everyone is when they first meet her.