The Tutor

Chapter 12

Rafe kept an excellent record of being on time and was a diligent, hard-working student—for a total of three and a half weeks. That's almost a month! In his world this was a bit of an accomplishment, considering how much effort and energy those lessons took out of him. So today, feeling extra tired after binge-watching TV shows on his laptop till late, he smacked his alarm clock to switch it off.

Groggily, he decided he'd figure out a way to placate Nora later. Maybe come up with an excuse that he was sick or something. He was good at being fake sick. He texted her to cancel the lesson. Maybe she'd even give him one of those delicious Japanese biscuits.

The sleep was blissful and deep. He started dreaming of sunny Italian coasts and focaccia bread and girls in summer dresses until he heard a bang and his door jerked wide open. His head snapped up from under the covers to check who had so rudely and loudly barged into his room.

To his horror Nora stood there, at the entrance to his room with that neutral, leaning towards murderous, look on her face.

He always suspected her of being a ninja - stealthy walk, catlike reflexes and a glare that could kill. He didn't know his theory would be put to the test and proven when in a split second, she grabbed his shoe that lay by the door and sent it hurling at his head. It grazed the top of his head and he just had enough time to dodge the other shoe.

Rafe said words in Italian that would have sent his grandma to her grave. Or actually, send her bible hurling his way.

"Cazzo! You lost your mind? The fuck is your problem?"

"You stood me up! You promised me no more tardiness!"

"I'm not feeling well!" He squeezed out a pathetic cough. His voice already hoarse from being up so early.

"You look absolutely fine to me," Nora said, narrowing her eyes at him. There was no way to convince her now. He should've known she was psycho enough to hunt him down.

"You have five minutes to get dressed. We'll study in your common room." 

His room was tiny. There was a desk placed right next to the window sill, a small closet next to the entrance. His bed was right opposite the door. There was a small bedside table on his right. Unlike the others he hadn't bothered to buy anything for the room to make it homey or adorned with posters. He hated spending time indoors. His roommate Alex, who was currently sitting at his desk hogging his laptop as always, was frozen on his spot, his wide red dopey eyes looking at Nora, then at Rafe and back to Nora again.

Nora's eyes landed on a mountain of shirts and clothes on the chair that stood in the corner of the room. Her lips thinned in what Rafe guessed was a display of disgust. She left the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Shit," Rafe muttered, throwing off the blanket and grabbing his jeans.

"Jesus Christ mate, what the hell was that?"

"That was my tutor from hell," Rafe said, rubbing his head where the shoe grazed him, then grinned as he made his way to the bathroom to shower. "I think she likes me."

Alex sighed. "Then that shoe must've hit harder than it looked."

She sat in the common room study, which had longer desks alongside the walls, a couple of chairs, some computers and shelves filled with old books. Some brightly coloured bean bags were scattered around in front of the TV, and plastic cups with drinks were littered around the room.

He sat down groggily, not feeling the energy to study at all. He still couldn't get over the shock of having her barge into his room like that. What if he had been naked? He loved sleeping commando back in his apartment in London. But his roommate liked to frequently come to his room to use his Mac, borrow the charger or use his headphones. Rafe didn't mind sharing his stuff, but he did miss his privacy. He'd never had to live in a dorm or have roommates before.