Finally, the weekend.

Honestly, being a straight 'A' student doesn't necessarily mean you automatically have all the answers in the world. In contrast, you
don't. And that's where all the pressure comes from. That's why I actually think that us teenagers who take all gifted or AP classes look more forward to the weekend than any other teen in the school. It's like a mini break from all the stress.

A mini break, that unfortunately lasts for what feels like two minutes.

"Zendaya!" My mom calls my name eagerly from downstairs, eagerly enough for me to even hear it over the movie I'm currently watching on Netflix. What? You can't blame me for this. Literally everyone needs at least a little Netflix, maybe once or twice in their life, right?

I pause Furious 7, kissing both my middle finger and index finger then planting them on Paul Walker's face. Did I mention I absolutely love him?

I open my door to my room and rush down the stairs quickly. I specifically told my mom that I needed some alone time with me, myself, and Netflix.

Typical me, right?

I enter the kitchen, the smell of spices and freshly cut peppers fill my nose. Sauce? For spaghetti, maybe?

My mom is always cooking. Nonstop. The only time you don't see her in an apron is at work, meaning she has actually fallen asleep in her apron before. Yeah, my mom can be a mess sometimes.

I spot my dog slobbering over a dog toy in her mouth which makes me smile and bend over to brush my hand slightly on Midnight's head.

I walk over her, noticing my mom creeping behind the drapes in our kitchen looking ahead through the window.

"Any specific reason you left something on the stove that could possibly blow up our house if left  unattended to look out the window?" I walk a little closely to her,  waiting impatiently for my answer.

"Look sweetie. A family has finally moved into the house next door." She says excitedly. Wow. We finally have neighbors living on the left side of us.

I glance over at mom for a little while until finally giving in. I look over her shoulder, out the window to see a moving truck and about five people outside shoving boxes through the door way. Three of them dressed in a U Haul uniform enter back into their truck, backing out of the newly neighbor's drive way leaving just a women and a boy, who I assume is her child, who looks roughly around my age.

My mom smiles at me while she turns around using a towel to collect some of the dust she touched from leaving her hands on the window. I, however still remain at the window staring at our new neighbors as they pick up that last few boxes left outside. What? I'm even kinda excited we have new neighbors; its been half a decade since anyone has lived there.

I watch closely at the boy, as he picks up the remaining moving boxes from their driveway into their new house. Even though it's barely bright outside due to the sun setting, I can still makeup his figure. He seems tall in comparison to his mother. He's probably taller than me, and I'm 5'10.

He has chiseled features, his curly hair framing his face as it sits on top of his head. I can't get a clear picture of him in my head, but from the looks of it, he isn't bad looking. He's cute.

He walks closer and closer to the front door of his house until I see him glance over at my window. He stops in his track, focusing on me. His eyes begin to squint and before I could see another expression on his, I quickly close the drapes and act as casual as possible.

I didn't get an amazingly great look of his face due to my nervousness of him seeing me through the window, but he definitely seemed pretty cute.

But I mean, I can't just start jumping to conclusion thinking he's the hottest guy I've ever seen.

Tutoring the Bad Boy (Zevor)Read this story for FREE!