Lady Lucia
patreon
The Tutor, Part Fourteen
🕑 Added 2022-07-30 17:02:51 +0000 UTCI’ve always hated phone calls.
While they’re definitely the way to go in order to avoid excessive back and forth texting, there are just too many drawbacks compared to other forms of communication. Talking with someone face to face has the advantage of facial expressions and body language. Typing out a text or email lets you organize your thoughts in written form before pressing ‘Send.’ But both those perks are lost over the phone.
Long story short, calling Annabelle might have been a bad idea.
I had been a lot more focused on IF I would be reaching out and suggesting another session. The pros and cons. Annabelle’s passion and initiative for mathematics was a huge draw, as was the outlandish amount of money I’d be making from each session, but how was I supposed to put that into words? It was too late to back out, however. It’s not like I could just hang up on her. “Oh, hey,” I said, “Sorry to bother you so late.”
She quietly scoffed. “Please. It’s barely even nine. Besides, you never bother me.”
The casual compliment landed more effectively than she probably realized. Lightly blushing, and suddenly grateful to be on the phone instead of a video call, I muttered an awkward, “Thanks.” I don’t know what it was about the girl. It’s not like I had anything to prove to her. I was the tutor, and she was the high schooler. And yet, her low key validation made an unexpected impact. “Anyway, I was just taking another look at my schedule.” A white lie. Saturday was always a free day for me, at least in terms of obligations. I still tended to use the time for schoolwork and studying.
“Oh?” The tone behind the one word response was enough to tell that she knew where I was headed. She didn’t fill in the blanks for me, however.
“Yeah. It looks like my next few weekends will be more flexible than I thought. At least, until midterms hit.” That last part wasn’t a lie. Our sessions would have to be more hit or miss while I focused on wrapping up a few projects and studying for those tests.
I still wasn’t sure how to ask Annabelle if she wanted me to continue as her tutor without sounding too desperate or awkward about it. Thankfully, she seemed to get my point. There was only one problem. “Damn. That’s bad timing. I wish you called me yesterday!”
Wait, what?
My heart sank a little bit at the implication. I knew there was a chance that she already would have been looking for another tutor; a girl with her resources would be able to replace me right away if she wanted to. Hell, it was possible that my name wasn’t the only one on her list the first time around. Even if I was the best for my age, not to sound braggy, there were plenty of girls that could handle teaching upper level mathematics to a bright eighteen year old.
Would it be selfish to try and take the job back for myself? I mean, I was there first. And Annabelle and I seemed to have pretty good chemistry. She definitely wasn’t the spoiled brat I expected when walking in. And, admittedly, the money was really, really good.
“Oh, did you find a new tutor?” I asked. For once, I was actually grateful to be on the phone. Playing it cool was easier when she couldn’t see my face. “Someone else from my school? If I know her, I can give her what we’ve worked on so far.”
Normally I wasn’t this kind of girl. Lying wasn’t my thing, although I technically wasn’t lying. If Annabelle had firmly committed to a classmate of mine, then it wouldn’t hurt to pass on my materials. It wasn’t just about the money, after all, and the gesture would help my temporary tutee succeed. Except that was IF Annabelle’s decision was final. But maybe if she gave me a name, and it was someone in my classes, I could find a way to suggest that I was the better girl for the job. She was probably going for another college-aged tutor, since her parents had already explained that she had wanted someone a little closer in age.
“No, she’s from your sister school,” Annabelle said, “And probably for the best, right? This was more of a drive for you than it is for her.”
Oh my God. Bridget.
I could feel my heart rate increase at just the chance that Annabelle went that way. And as much as I hated to think it, the probability was there. My childhood rival attended the private university across the river, and her mathematics abilities were on par with my own. If Annabelle had selected me because I was currently the best in my year, then it stood to reason that she’d use the same criteria for the sister school. And, although I didn’t keep tabs on Bridget, I would also be surprised if she wasn’t the best and brightest over there. Not only because of her natural talents, like mine, but she’s also so competitive that being at the top is the only acceptable option for her.
Taking a breath to calm myself would have been nice. Too much silence on my end of the call, however, would ruin the casual attitude I was attempting to maintain. “Oh, really?” I replied, “Who did you end up finding? I know a few of the math majors over there from collaborative projects.” Another half truth. More like I knew one girl, and said projects were actually from before university.
“Really? Cool,” Annabelle said, “It’s this girl named Bridget. She’s the same year as you.”
I had mentally and emotionally braced myself as well as I could with only a few seconds to do so, but it still didn’t soften the blow. Annabelle was replacing me with Bridget. Any other girl, and I might have let it go.
Bridget, however, was NOT going to take this job from me.
