Lady Lucia
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The Tutor, Part Twenty-One
🕑 Added 2022-10-04 12:00:05 +0000 UTCNever a fun phrase to hear.
It also threw me off my game. While I might not have figured out a good way to start one of the several conversations I wanted to have with the girl, I at least had a short list of what they were. That I was here to tutor, not do chores. Or, if I did chores, I expected to be compensated for my time like the first day. And, of course, the fact that Annabelle fucking kissed me. She had cut things off so abruptly after my apology, leaving me thoroughly frustrated and confused about the whole thing.
Objectively, it was a good kiss. Sudden, and passionate, and nothing at all like the couple of girl kisses I’d had before. But that wasn’t the point. There were all the reasons why something like that was wrong, even if she was the one who initiated, and now I was stuck in the awkward position where I’d have to let her down gently if she did indeed have a crush on me. Not only did I have no idea how I felt about girls in that sense, but this was also supposed to be a professional relationship; it wasn’t the time to explore, especially not with an eighteen year old.
Sitting down right next to the bold redhead didn’t seem like a good idea, but I felt compelled to do so anyway. It was the spot she gestured to, and choosing to stand or sit somewhere else could potentially come across as shy or weak. Whatever this talk was going to end up being, I needed to show Annabelle that I wasn’t afraid. I was the older girl, and I was her tutor. So, taking a quiet breath and leaving the door cracked in an effort to keep things slightly more publicly and hopefully innocent, I crossed the room and took a seat. Next to her, but not too close.
Getting right to it, Annabelle turned towards me and met my eyes. “So, Mere. You’ve kissed a girl before, right?”
“Umm. What-” I hesitated. Instantly blushing, I at least managed to keep from averting my gaze. “I, umm- it’s getting late, Annabelle. We should really get started on that problem set I sent you.”
“It’s ‘Miss Annabelle,’ remember?”
“Right. Miss Annabelle . . .”
It felt so weird addressing a younger girl in such a way. Also, she had been so dismissive about formalities on our first day together. What changed her mind?
“Good girl,” she said, “And it’s fine; you can tutor me in a few minutes. But let’s talk first, okay? Besides, it’s a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question. Have you ever kissed a girl?”
I went quiet for a few long seconds, before giving in a mumbling, “Yes . . .”
“Oh, cool! So, I’m not your first. Then you’re bi? Or a lesbian, maybe? It’s fine; I won’t judge either way.”
“No! No. It’s not like that, Annabelle. I just-”
“Miss Annabelle.”
“Right, sorry. Miss Annabelle. Look, can we just move on? This isn’t really appropriate, and we shouldn’t-” I cut myself off, realizing that shutting down the whole conversation wasn’t the best idea. Maybe. I still needed to figure out how Annabelle felt, which meant shifting the focus onto her. The girl who strutted around in just her lingerie the last time I was here, and kissed me this time.
Was I just super blind? That was part of my confusion earlier. The red haired girl who was so casually conversing with me right now was impossible to read. If she had a crush, it certainly didn’t make her nervous around me. I wish I could have said the same about myself, but I pretty much always felt like I was on my back foot around the girl. She didn’t seem to take anything seriously and I, well, was pretty much the opposite of that.
Going on my version of the offensive, which ended up being a not so smooth transition, I just blurted out, “Are you into girls?”
“Exclusively,” Annabelle replied, with a smile and a shrug. “Boys are stupid.”
The follow-up comment was the most ‘high school’ she had ever sounded, but the actual answer was more pressing. Okay, girls. If she was that easy going about her sexuality, I could only imagine what she might say if I asked how she felt about me. Maybe I didn’t have to ask. “Miss Annabelle,” I began, remembering the title yet still internally cringing about using it, “I’m your tutor. I don’t know if I’ve accidentally led you on or something, but-”
“You haven’t, Mere,” she said. Not only interrupting me with her voice, but also by slightly scooting forward and placing her hand on my thigh, “I just wanted to kiss you. It’s as simple as that. Although we should really try again. How about more than a peck this time?”
But- but why?! Why did she want to, and how clueless was she when it came to my perspective?
Taking a deep breath, I took her hand off my leg and adjusted on the sofa to put us back at the respectable distance we had before. “Annabelle. Miss Annabelle,” I said, immediately correcting myself, “I’m trying to say that I only want to be your tutor. Nothing more. This should be a professional relationship, and I’m not going to keep coming back if I’m worried about you doing stuff like this. Personal space is important, as are clothes, and I really do prefer ‘Meredith,’ and . . .” I trailed off, belatedly noticing that I was rambling a bit with all the things that had been floating around my mind in a disorganized mess until they all came spilling out at once. Sighing, I met the girl’s eyes again and iterated the first point I was trying to make. “I don’t want to kiss you, Annabelle. Sorry.”
A long silence lingered after I wrapped up my not particularly coherent string of thoughts. Annabelle slightly cocked her head and kept her eyes trained on mine, almost as if she was studying me. Maybe she was just trying to figure out how to respond. I was finding that eye contact came a lot more naturally to her, as I was the one who was constantly tempted to glance away under her gaze.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she said, “But you did kiss me, Mere. Or at least, you kissed me back. Didn’t you?”
“Yes, but-” I started, too flustered by my previous attempt to explain things to prevent myself from answering a new yes/no question that wasn’t so black and white. Continuing with another less than eloquent explanation, I said, “That’s just, like, what I’m used to doing. I mean, that’s how I’ve always-” I really didn’t want to say the word itself, although even the thought of it brought back the memory of Annabelle earlier and all the subsequent guilt and confusion. “That’s what you do,” I mumbled, lamely concluding my reply without using the word ‘kiss’ along the way.
“That’s a little slutty,” Annabelle replied, without missing a beat.
“What? Annabelle! I-”
“‘Miss Annabelle.’ And relax, Mere. I’m kidding. If anything, I think it’s brave that you kissed me back. Kind of hot, too.”
I had never been disarmed so quickly. There were a lot of adjectives that sprang to mind about myself if someone were to ask, but ‘brave’ certainly wasn’t one of them. It’s not that I considered myself the opposite, but my academic lifestyle didn’t exactly lend itself to taking risks. Even standing up for myself had always been a mental hurdle. And yet, this eighteen year old girl who practically radiated confidence suggested that I was brave. More importantly, there was the way she said it. I don’t know why it had such an immediate effect on me, but it did. The follow-up compliment was flattering, too, but it barely registered in comparison to the former.
“I, umm- brave?” I quietly asked. Almost as if I needed confirmation of what she said. Because to me, what I did was a reflex and nothing more. Clearly Annabelle felt differently, which was more fascinating than some of her other unique viewpoints.
“That’s right.” Annabelle pursed her lips in a small smile. She scooted forward again, ever so slightly, and kept her deep green eyes trained on mine. “You’re brave, Meredith. Or maybe I’m wrong. Are you shy? Scared?”
“N-no.” Trying and failing to speak clearly, as it was enough of a battle just to keep eye contact with her. “Of course not.” I hadn’t even realized the use of my full name, and how it served as yet another way to subtly capture my attention.
“Then prove it. Show me that you’re a brave girl. You can do that, can’t you?”
Completely lost for words, I simply nodded my head.
“Good girl.” Annabelle reached forward and tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear, then quietly said, “Kiss me?”
