“Fine. But I can’t see you for a full session.”
“Aww, why not?” he mock-whines as he saunters over to my desk.
“Because I’ve got two more students on the schedule to tutor this morning, and you’re not one of them.”
He settles next to me and pulls out his laptop, setting it on the desk. He lifts an eyebrow. “The things I would do to be next on your to-do list, Poppy.”
“God, you’re unbelievable.” I let out an exasperated laugh.
“I’ve heard that many, many times. Not in the classroom, though. Usually in a more intimate setting.” There’s a smug flicker in his eyes.
I hold his gaze. “Didn’t you say you’re failing?”
His smile dials back. He clears his throat. “Yeah.”
“Then maybe you should lay off the annoying innuendos and tell me what exactly you need help with.”
The cocky flicker in his eyes fades. His expression eases to something more shy, on the edge of embarrassment. He pulls a paper out of his backpack and hands it to me. “This is my latest paper I wrote for my Research and Composition class.”
When I see all the red marks and the giant F on the front, I wince. “Yikes,” I say softly.
He runs a hand through his thick chocolate-brown hair that always looks perfectly messy.
“I need to get my grade up,” he says. “I have another paper due in a week, and I need to do a lot better.”
He pulls up the assignment on his laptop while I skim the paper he wrote. I try my best not to make a face at how badly written it is. I can tell he rushed through writing this and didn’t do a good job of citing his sources.
“Okay, well, I can see that you threw this together at the last minute and didn’t put much thought into it,” I say.
He leans back in his chair. His massive hand clutches his broad chest. “Ouch.”
I tilt my head at him. “You’re saying I’m wrong?”
“No. You’re right. Just harsh.”
I squint at his laptop screen and skim the guidelines for his next essay. “I don’t beat around the bush, Nick.”
“I like that about you.”
I’m quiet as I try to concentrate. “Okay, well, the good news is that it’s early in the semester, so you have time to bring up your grade. And the topic for your next essay is pretty easy.”
He scoffs. “Maybe for you. You’re a genius.”
“I’m not a genius.”
“Compared to me, you are.” His cheeks flush as he chuckles. “I know that’s not saying much.”
“Come on, this isn’t that hard.” I nod at the laptop screen. “The assignment is to write a research essay on how social media has affected the flow of information in today’s media world. That’s pretty open-ended. You can take that in loads of different directions.”
For the next ten minutes, I guide Nick through a brainstorming session. Once we narrow down a topic he feels comfortable with, I show him my method of outlining an essay, something I use with a lot of the students I tutor.
When we finish, Nick blinks at his laptop screen. The corner of his mouth lifts in a surprised smile. “Wow. This is way easier than how I usually do it.”
“How do you usually write an essay?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “Wait until the last minute and panic-write.”
I let out a genuine laugh. “It’s really not that bad once you get the hang of it.” I check the time. “I need to get ready for my next session.”
