𝔽₳𝜯Ǝ

Changed All That

I was sixteen when I finally figured out it was easier to get girls to talk to you if you help them with their homework. Oh, at the time I'd have told you I was helping them with their work, but the reality was I would do the work, and in return, they'd let me glare at them while they sat around and gossiped.

It wasn't a bad trade for me. I was lucky enough to have the brains and attitude required to make school easy for me. Believe me, you need both. I knew plenty of kids just as smart as me who didn't have the attitude to go with it, which made school a struggle. Me, I never minded the homework or the studying, so school was easy for me. As a result, by the end of my freshman year, I was well on my way to a perfect GPA. Trust me when I say luck had as much to do with it as anything. On the other hand, I was not fortunate to also be blessed with the natural sense of style and athleticism that created the kind of casual good looks which were far more valuable in the high school social hierarchy.

Also, I was completely hopeless when it came to speaking to the opposite sex.

Oh, I had charisma enough I suppose, looking back with the benefit of twenty years of hindsight. But all the charm in the world is useless if you forget your name, the name of the person in front of you, and some of the subtle nuances of the English language; like grammar and, you know, words.

Chloe changed all that.

The high school I went to posted the GPA of all the students above 2.5 in the hall outside the administration offices at the end of every semester. Incentive they said, though state-sanctioned public shaming was more like it. I suppose the kids whose names didn't make the boards feigned indifference, or sometimes celebrated it.

As I said, I was lucky enough to be good at the whole school thing, so at the end of my freshman year, my name was at the top of the list for my class. There were seven of us at the time that still had a 4.0; four girls and three guys. I knew all of them. I guess you figure out pretty quick who your competition for Valedictorian is in four years. Not that I cared really, not at that point. I was still just trying to survive the lunch line and make it through the day without ending up in a dumpster. But you still acknowledge the other kids in your league I guess. I wouldn't say I was friends with any of them except, Kevin Wilson, but Kevin and I had been friends since 4th grade, so it hardly counted.

I knew who Chloe Wood was, though. Oh, she wasn't one of the girls in the 4.0 club, but I knew who she was. She was easily the hottest girl in my class. Long brunette hair, slender figure, the most amazing eyes of any living being on the planet. She knew how to dress to show them to their best advantage without being remotely trashy, and still manage to show enough to cause male teachers to lose their train of thought when she'd raise her hand in class.

Yeah, I had the hots for her. So did everyone. At least, that's what I often assumed. So when she came up to me after class near the end of term our freshman year and said my name, I naturally assumed she was talking to the other Jake Holmes behind me.

"Jake!" said the most beautiful girl 

I casually glanced behind me to see who this lucky Jake person was.

"Jake?" she said again, stopping right in front of me.

"Me?" I said, the epitome of humor and class.

She laughed lightly with a sound that should have been accompanied by naked winged sprites sparkling around her and ringing bells.

"Yes, you. You're Jake Holmes right?" she continued.

"Uhm. Yeah." Yup. I was right on track. Sweeping her off her feet any moment.

I blushed. I have no idea why I blushed. She'd just identified me correctly out of a line-up, that's all.

She smiled, clearly aware of the effect her presence had on my mental capacity, and perhaps even counting on it. But she didn't verbally acknowledge it.

"Listen, I was wondering if you do any tutoring?"

What is this tutoring word? My brain was running in a continuous loop. Wait, she's waiting for a response. She looks like it should be a yes. I should say yes.

"Uhhhh... yes?" I managed to get out.

"Great. I'm stuck taking summer school for Algebra and it's going to mess up my eligibility for Cheer next year if I don't pass, so I was wondering..." As she said it, she held her books up against her.

She bit her lower lip in the sexiest manner possible while waiting for me to remember how to speak. She was used to this projected aura of gibbering stupid she oozed around her.

"Uhm. Sure. I'm good at algebra." I said.

Her smile could have lit up a small city. "Great, why don't you give me your number, and I can call you to set up some dates."

The only words I processed were "number" and "dates".

I numbly wrote down what I prayed was my home number on a sheet of paper for her. She folded it up and stuffed it in her front jeans pocket.

She winked and headed off down the hall. I was left in a stupefied daze. What had just happened? Did I just get a date with Chloe Wood? No. But... wait. Algebra. Tutoring. I agreed to tutor her in algebra for summer school. I wasn't going to summer school though. No, wait! She was! I was tutoring her for her summer school math course. I was going to spend my summer in the company of Chloe wood, the hottest girl in our class. Perhaps of any freshman class in the world. Perhaps even in the history of the world.

I smirked like an idiot the rest of the day.