tutor; stenbrough

10

10

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bill tugs his backpack higher up on his shoulder, his fingers clutching the strap so tightly that his knuckles turn white. although bill knows he needs a tutor, he is unsure if he's salvageable any longer; he worries that not even stanley uris, the smartest kid in school, can save him at this point.

the hallways are empty on the monday afternoon after the last bell. bill finds himself walking the quiet halls, his shoes scuffing the white tiles and their squeaks echoing against the lockers as he nears the library, where he had been meaning to meet his tutor.

when he reaches the door, bill attempts to push, when it's clearly a pull. he instantly thinks, fml, before tugging the door the right way, and entering the almost entirely unfamiliar room. he'd never been one for studying or academics, and so he had never really had a reason to go to the library.

bill doesn't know where to go, exactly, and he kind of sort of wanders around, lost for a moment, until his phone vibrates in his pocket.

stanley uris (tutor):
william?

bill:
where are you?

stanley uris (tutor):
look up. right ahead

just as his text message had stated, when bill lifts his head, his bag swinging on his shoulder, he spots stanley uris at one of the empty tables, books placed neatly on the tidy surface and a pencil laying, unmoving, on top.

shoving his phone into his pocket, bill makes his way over to the boy, his tutor, and mumbles a quick, "hey."

stanley doesn't say anything, but offers an awkward smile, going back to scrawling notes in one of his notebooks. his hand writing is neat and calculated, loopy, kinda like the curls that fall into his eyes that he hastily brushes away with one hand as bill takes the seat across from him.

he continues writing whatever he was writing as bill shoves his bag onto the chair next to him, and as he unzips it louder than necessary without meaning to. he continues writing as bill tugs out his math and science textbooks and messily strews them across the table in front of him. stanley only looks up when bill places his pencil case down, because it just happened to be unzipped, and the contents tumble out, rolling everywhere.

his cheeks blooming red, bill looks up to make eye contact with the put-together boy in front of him. stanley doesn't say anything for a moment, and then he releases a gentle laugh, just a soft breath passing his lips, as he goes to help the football player collect all the pencils and pens from where they'd ended up.

"thank you," bill mumbles as the other boy drops the writing utensils into the open pencil case. "sorry about that."

the apology earns another quiet laugh from stanley, who shakes his head, and, under his breath, mumbles, "you're a mess."

bill is surprised to hear stanley speak, and he's not sure why because he knows that he has to speak to tutor him, but it just takes him aback for some reason, and he asks, "what did you say?"

"i said you're a mess," stanley repeats, but it's not offensive, it's just kinda humorous, and he smiles in exasperation as roses of red coat the apples of bill's cheeks and the football player laughs along.

"shut up," bill requests, and the heat continues to rise to his face as stanley attempts to stifle his soft laughs. "hey, you're not being paid to laugh at me, you're being paid to tutor me."

"actually, i'm not being paid at all," stanley shoots back all matter-of-factly, flipping open the science book in front of him as bill watches with intent. "so i think i can laugh at you just a little."

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