You were assigned some work but you weren't going to do it. It's not that you didn't know it, you just had no motivation to do it at all.
You wore simple outfits, black ripped skinny jeans and a black hoodie.
You weren't a quiet emo kid, although you do like to listen to band a lot. You were quite outgoing.
You didn't have many personal friends but at school, you talk to everyone and pretty much everyone knew your name. After school, you usually just slept.
Sometimes you would be invited to parties, it was always your mood that decided on whether or not you should go. People liked you because you are constantly nice to everyone and you are rather fun to hang out with.
You were always in your own little world, day dreaming about random things.
You were caught off guard by a guy trying to talk to you. He was a popular kid that played football, the ones that always took gym too seriously.
You were responding with okays and yeahs because you were very uncomfortable.
You could tell he was flirting with you but you weren't really interested in him. You were never interested in any of the boy at your school because they all just sexualized you.
You would like some respect and not being used for your body but that's too much to ask for high school boys. You turned around in your desk after he decided to stop trying to flirt. Eventually, the bell rang for everyone to go home.
You're a chill person, never in a hurry to do anything so you slowly shove all of your papers, pens, and pencil in your backpack.
The rest of the class had left besides a couple of kids that were also slow to packing up.
You get up from your desk and throw your backpack through your left arm and go to walk out.
You turn around and look at the teacher, "what?"
"Ms. y/l/n, you are failing my class. You haven't turned in any of your work for the past couple of week and I checked in with your other teachers and you aren't doing their work either."
You stand their awkwardly as you listen to the teacher tell you.
"So, are we going to have to call your parents? Is there something going on at home?"
There was a lot going on with you, you have too many personal issues to talk about but there's no way you would ever tell your teacher.
"Well if that's not the case, then you are going to have to get a tutor to help you get caught up, I've got a packer here for you to complete which will get you all caught up," She points at a blue folder as she hands it to you.
The teacher looks over at one of the student still packing up, "Spencer?"
A scrawny kid dressed like an old man with brown hair that is slicked back on his forehead looks up to the teacher.
You have never seen his kid before but you can tell he's extremely awkward, "come here please." He walks with a hunchback over to the teacher's desk.
"Yes, Mrs. Jones?"
"Can you do me a big favor and tutor y/n? Maybe you two can meet together after school?"
"Uh, sure," Spencer looks at you. He's rather tall, he has big dark circles under his eyes.
Not that you're judging, you have dark circles as well.
"Thank you, Spencer."
You and Spencer walk out of the room together, it's silent. He looks like he's trying to figure out what to say to you, "so when do you want to start the tutoring?"
"Now, I guess."
"What do you need help with?"
"Uh, let me see," you can barely remember any of your classes.
You pull out a crumbled piece of paper that is your schedule. You read off the list, "Literature, calculus, bio med, and psychology. Do you take any of those?"
"Yes, I'm pretty sure we're in all the same classes."
"Oh, I've never seen you before. Are you new or something?"
"I've been here for all four years."
"I pretty much know everybody, why don't I know you?"
He shrugs his shoulders.
You are always the type to make sure a conversation keeps going, you're not very awkward but he is.
"You're like not very talkative. Alright, we don't have to be friend if you don't want to. Want to go to my house to study?"
"Ight. What's your name again?"
"That's a nice name, is their a backstory?"
You two eventually walk out of the two double doors of the private school. You hate taking the bus, plus your house is only a couple of blocks away.
You didn't need to stop at your locker because you keep all your books and stuff in your backpack.
You don't have time to stop at your locker in between classes because you have five minutes to get there. Some classes are on the other side of the school.
The walk with Spencer was pretty silent, he doesn't seem to be as open as any of the other kids.
You eventually reach your house and go into the front door and immediately into your room. He follows you and stand awkwardly as you flop on your bed.
"You can sit in the chair."
You have a beanbag in the corner of your room next to the door. He walks over to it and looks back as he sits down in the beanbag.
"Alright, so where should we start?"