Taehyung - Tutor

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The sound of your pencil scratching away at the paper in front of you fills the classroom. The test that your teacher had given out was a piece of cake. Well, to you at least. The other students are groaning about having to take the test instead of actually attempting to complete it.

You stare at the clock and silently count the ticks. You are confident that you had aced the test. The bell signaling the end of the school day echoes around the quiet room. You grab your backpack and shuffle to the door. The other students resume their complaining about school and talking about irrelevant things.

In the hallway, students are heading to the their lockers or to the doors, eager to begin whatever plans they had for after school. You make a beeline for the library. The librarian greets you with a kind smile that you partially return. You take your usual seat by the window and begin working on your homework.

The quietness of the library eases your mind and you can easily concentrate on the work in front of you. About halfway through the second page, a knock on the window makes you jump. You glare angrily at the person who had disturbed you. When you realize who it is, you let out a frustrated sigh. It's the kid who has been trying to talk to you for a week. He constantly shows up to bother you and no matter how many times you tell him to go away, he just doesn't understand.

He gives you a charming box smile that you completely ignore. You focus your attention on your work. When you look up again, he's gone. You let out a sigh of relief and continue writing. Your concentration is, once again, taken away from your homework; this time because of the light tap on your shoulder.

"Minhee-sshi," the stalker boy says happily.

You angrily slam down your pencil and meet his eyes. "What?" You say in a cold voice.

He takes the seat next to you. "Are you ready for ceramics tomorrow?"

You groan at the mention of that dreadful class. It still puzzles you why you would ever take such a messy class. At the time, you thought it would be good to try something new for your senior year since you had gotten all of your necessary requirements out of the way, but you seriously regretted that decision. The worst part was that Stalker Boy took the class, too.

"Listen kid," you say rudely, "I don't know what your problem is, but I want you to leave me alone."

He tilts his head to the side. "I noticed that your not very good at making stuff."

You roll you eyes. Although he was right, you weren't going to admit that. On the other hand, he was fairly good at the class. You had seen some of his projects. He seemed to get the hang of the techniques quickly.

"That doesn't concern you." You turn away from him and resume your work.

He gets up and sits on the other side of you. "I could help you, if you'd like."

This made you angry. "I don't need your help. Or anyone else's for that matter." The words on the paper begin to blur as you become even more pissed off. Who was he to offer me, of all people, help?

"I was looking at this month's class ranks and I noticed that you're second. I guessed that it was most likely because of ceramics."

You begin packing your things into your bag. Stalker Boy sits with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, watching you. You turn your back to him as you sling your bag onto your shoulder. Him talking about class ranks had really done it. There was nothing more important to you than being the best. It pained you when you checked the list last week to see that someone else had come above you for the first time ever.

"I didn't mean to make you upset." Stalker Boy follows after you. The two of you walk into the hallway with you trying to get as far away from him as possible. "I know how much your grades mean to you and I would like to help if I can."

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