Collateral Love | Tao

Chapter 2

I showed up five minutes after six.

"Why are you late?"

"Tennis practice didn't get over until six," I was out of breath, "I ran here though."

"Since you're already late you could've shown up dressed more appropriately, it's still school," He looked me up and down, I realized my tennis skirt was a little short. Seeing me like this probably made him forget I was still his student, considering him asking me to wear my usual school uniform.

"Sorry, I will next time," I bowed.

"Suddenly being respectful?"

I shook my head and sat at my desk, "Am I the only one who signed up?"

"Yeah, you must be the only one who's not good at Chinese."

"Gosh, why do you have to be so mean to me?"

"Why do you have to be so mean to me?" He retorted, he pulled up a chair next to his desk, "Since it's only us you can sit here."

I sat in the chair and checked my phone.

Sehun: are you mad at me? I was just kidding around.

Me: No, I don't care. I'm busy right now.

"Don't waste my time," Mr. Huang took my phone and put it in his pocket.

"You can't do that!"

"You signed up for this, you can text your boyfriend when we're finished."

"Sehun isn't my boyfriend. He is my best friend."

"Don't you hang out with other girls like a normal girl should?" He started to write on the whiteboard.

"I don't really get along with other girls. They don't like my sense of humor."

"I wouldn't call your attitude a sense of humor."

"I don't have an attitude, jerk!"

"There it is," He stopped writing for a moment and grinned at me. That stupid grin.

"Whatever," I turned away from him and played with the things on his desk.

"Stop messing with my things. Can you read this to me?"

I stared at what he wrote for a moment, "I can't read Chinese well. Or Korean."

"Why not if you speak it?"

"I'm dyslexic," I half expected him to make fun of me.

"Oh, I see," he sat back down in his chair, "Is it easier for you to learn by speaking then?"

"Yeah, that would be a lot easier. How am I supposed to learn how to write in Chinese though?"

"I will figure something out."

He would say things to me in Chinese then ask me to repeat them and tell him what they meant.

"Have you ever noticed how much deeper your voice gets when you speak in Chinese?"

"This is why you can never get anything done, stay focused and stop thinking about me."

"I wasn't thinking about you, I just noticed it," He made it hard for me to stay focused. He was so interesting to look at, "You're really full of yourself, Mr. Huang."