popped a cinnamon Altoid into his mouth: There. Now his breath was cinnamon fresh.
Jason stepped out of his car and straightened his letterman jacket. He pulled his blue backpack from the backseat of his car, swung it over his shoulder, and made his way to Sara’s front door, ready to commence what he liked to call Operation : Porking Ms . Piggy . He had to ring the doorbell three times before Sara answered it. The bitch was probably stuffing her fat face.
“H— ”
“You’re late,” Sara said, cutting him off (her breath smelled like taco-flavored Doritos), “and you didn’t call to say you’d be late. I don’t have all day to wait around for you. Come late again without calling, and that’ll be the end of our sessions.” She walked past the living room and into the dining room. Jason closed the door and followed behind her. On his way to join Sara at the dining-room table, he noticed a picture of a beautiful woman with dark-red hair hanging on the wall.
“I know I didn’t call. I’m sorry, but one of my friends’ car stalled, and he needed my help, and I didn’t have your number to call you to tell you I was running late.” He flashed his puppy-dog eyes at her. He couldn’t tell whether she was buying it. She probably was. No girl could resist his puppy-dog eyes.
“That was my fault. I don’t like to give out my phone number. But I guess I should start. Remind me after our session. Pull out your book. We’ve only got half an hour left.”
Jason smiled as he pulled his book out. She had agreed to give him her phone number. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
Sara did her best to teach Jason calculus, starting with summation notation, and Jason did his best to play dumb. He was actually quite adept at calculus, managing an A-minus so far this marking period, but he needed an in with Sara, and this was the only thing he could think of.
“Ugh!” Sara shrieked in annoyance, after twenty minutes of trying and failing to teach Jason summation notation. “It’s not that hard! The i= part underneath the summation sign tells you which number to plug into the given expression first. The number on top of the summation sign tells you the last number to plug into the given expression. You always increase by one at each successive step! God, why are all jocks such idiots?”
Jason stared at her, at first in simulated disbelief, then that gave way to synthetic anger and hurt. “You don’t have to be so mean, you know. Not everybody’s as smart as you. I mean, haven’t you ever sucked at something before?” He grabbed his things and headed for the front door. If he knew women as well as he thought he did, Sara would be stopping him any minute now.
“Wait,” Sara said.
Jason, his back to Sara, smiled. Damn , I ’ m good . He turned around to face her but made sure to affect a wounded expression first. “Yeah?” he said, feigning exasperation.
She came to him. “I’m sorry I lost my temper. You didn’t deserve that. And yes, I do know what it’s like to suck at something.” She let out a little chortle.
Jason beamed on the inside: Everything was going exactly as planned. It wouldn’t be long before she gave it up.
“I have another appointment coming soon, so come back on Thursday. I’ll move some stuff around, so we can spend more time together.”
“Okay, cool.” He turned to leave and then turned back around. “Oh wait, you said you were gonna give me your number in case I couldn’t make it on time again.”
“Oh yeah, right. Ready?”
“Just a sec,” Jason said, pulling his phone out. “Okay, shoot.”
“It’s 215-555-3039.”
“215-555-3039. Got it. Thanks. It was nice working with you. Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at school. When’s your lunch period? You can come by my table and hang if you don’t have anyone else to sit with.” He gave her a sexy smile that could’ve charmed the habit right off a nun. Sara smiled at him, too, but hers was dripping
Jason stepped out of his car and straightened his letterman jacket. He pulled his blue backpack from the backseat of his car, swung it over his shoulder, and made his way to Sara’s front door, ready to commence what he liked to call Operation : Porking Ms . Piggy . He had to ring the doorbell three times before Sara answered it. The bitch was probably stuffing her fat face.
“H— ”
“You’re late,” Sara said, cutting him off (her breath smelled like taco-flavored Doritos), “and you didn’t call to say you’d be late. I don’t have all day to wait around for you. Come late again without calling, and that’ll be the end of our sessions.” She walked past the living room and into the dining room. Jason closed the door and followed behind her. On his way to join Sara at the dining-room table, he noticed a picture of a beautiful woman with dark-red hair hanging on the wall.
“I know I didn’t call. I’m sorry, but one of my friends’ car stalled, and he needed my help, and I didn’t have your number to call you to tell you I was running late.” He flashed his puppy-dog eyes at her. He couldn’t tell whether she was buying it. She probably was. No girl could resist his puppy-dog eyes.
“That was my fault. I don’t like to give out my phone number. But I guess I should start. Remind me after our session. Pull out your book. We’ve only got half an hour left.”
Jason smiled as he pulled his book out. She had agreed to give him her phone number. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
Sara did her best to teach Jason calculus, starting with summation notation, and Jason did his best to play dumb. He was actually quite adept at calculus, managing an A-minus so far this marking period, but he needed an in with Sara, and this was the only thing he could think of.
“Ugh!” Sara shrieked in annoyance, after twenty minutes of trying and failing to teach Jason summation notation. “It’s not that hard! The i= part underneath the summation sign tells you which number to plug into the given expression first. The number on top of the summation sign tells you the last number to plug into the given expression. You always increase by one at each successive step! God, why are all jocks such idiots?”
Jason stared at her, at first in simulated disbelief, then that gave way to synthetic anger and hurt. “You don’t have to be so mean, you know. Not everybody’s as smart as you. I mean, haven’t you ever sucked at something before?” He grabbed his things and headed for the front door. If he knew women as well as he thought he did, Sara would be stopping him any minute now.
“Wait,” Sara said.
Jason, his back to Sara, smiled. Damn , I ’ m good . He turned around to face her but made sure to affect a wounded expression first. “Yeah?” he said, feigning exasperation.
She came to him. “I’m sorry I lost my temper. You didn’t deserve that. And yes, I do know what it’s like to suck at something.” She let out a little chortle.
Jason beamed on the inside: Everything was going exactly as planned. It wouldn’t be long before she gave it up.
“I have another appointment coming soon, so come back on Thursday. I’ll move some stuff around, so we can spend more time together.”
“Okay, cool.” He turned to leave and then turned back around. “Oh wait, you said you were gonna give me your number in case I couldn’t make it on time again.”
“Oh yeah, right. Ready?”
“Just a sec,” Jason said, pulling his phone out. “Okay, shoot.”
“It’s 215-555-3039.”
“215-555-3039. Got it. Thanks. It was nice working with you. Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at school. When’s your lunch period? You can come by my table and hang if you don’t have anyone else to sit with.” He gave her a sexy smile that could’ve charmed the habit right off a nun. Sara smiled at him, too, but hers was dripping
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