After School with Mr. Obnoxious

Chapter 1

"Sam!" A girl caked in make-up called out to me as I turned left to the outdoor cafeteria.

It was Chloe, my best friend, and my complete opposite. While I worshiped Coldplay and U2, Chloe was overly devoted to Lady Gaga and Beyonce. While I would never let people see me with lip-gloss on, Chloe would never leave the house without being dosed up with some dark mascara, blush, and eyeshadow. My wardrobe consisted of gray, white and black shirts and jeans. She, on the other hand, had two closets full of skimpy skirts with as many colors as one could find in a packet of Skittles.

Today, Chloe was wearing a pastel pink skirt and her favorite sky blue tee. She graciously flipped her shiny blonde curls, strutting towards me.

"What's up, Barbie?" I greeted.

She hugged me and grinned when she finally decided to release me. "You totally kicked Aaron's ass, loser!"

I wrinkled my nose. "You heard?"

"Yes. What do you expect? Gossip 101 is everybody's favorite subject. I wish I were there to take pictures," she said, laughing loudly. "That handsome jerk! Who does he think he is?"

I scowled at her. "Handsome jerk, huh?"

She pinched my arm, trying to make a point. "Well, you have to admit it, Sam. Aaron is one hot piece of meat," she said sheepishly. "Sexy blond hair. Deep blue eyes. Perfect jawline, and those kissable lips... damn!"

"I can't believe it. You're drooling over the enemy." I shrugged her off.

She giggled and continued to annoy me by praising the devil all the way to the outdoor cafeteria. I awarded my bravery with a fifteen-minute meal time instead and had three ham sandwiches, an apple, a tart and a bottle of soda. I was that hungry.

I arrived at my next class just in the nick of time and had to sit in the back corner of the room. Ms. Penny's lecture on the conflict in ideologies of communism and capitalism that became a foundational factor of the Cold War had sent half of the class into a coma—except for me. I topped most of my important subjects, the ones that really mattered. Gym class, not included.

Getting good grades, for me, was a piece of cake. I fell in love with literature as soon as I read Leo Tolstoy when I was ten. I briefly flirted with Math and soon realized that I really had to love it and live it too to maintain my class standing.

The day went on as expected. My recent run-in with Aaron went viral again, like how our previous encounters did. Some cheered and some jeered. And the same jovial reaction greeted me when I came to The Tutor Club Headquarters. Some of my fellow academic tutors smiled at me while others merely stared in sheer amazement.

I didn't care what they thought; I was there to get the name of the student who needed my help and not talk about my squabble with the cretin.

I checked the row of small boxes that were attached to the announcement board. Each box was labeled with the name of the members of the club. I sighed loudly when my box was still empty.

What's going on?

"Bruce, I think we now have a problem with the distribution of tutees."

Bruce Carson, our club's president, looked up at me behind his desk from the thick stack of paper.

"I don't think so, Sam. Mira's box has been empty for two weeks now." He smiled, his eyes sparkling behind his black-rimmed glasses. "By the way, I heard Nicole was really pissed off. You made spaghetti art on Aaron's shirt today. And I heard she bought him that shirt."

I rolled my eyes. "That guy's a moron. And Nicole is an even bigger idiot for being with him. Her boyfriend thinks he owns the school."

"Well, when your parents are wealthy, you automatically get a free pass to be a jerk."