《The Tutor》Chapter 2

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Rafe observed the girl who shoved him, gave the wrong instructions on purpose and told him off within half an hour of their meeting.

They had literately got off on the wrong foot.

The rest of the folk in this school seemed normal and decent enough, even if some were a bit dorky or awkward around him. The school had it's own football field and invested heavily into their sportsmen which was the only good news he's gotten so far. How strong was the team? He'd have to find out this afternoon. He couldn't help but wonder his gaze back to the asian girl.

At first glance she looked like your stereotypical nerd straight out of a book: the black rimmed glasses, modest length skirt, lots of books in her hands. On a closer look there was something pedantic about her. The uniform was a perfect fit, spotless, and ironed. Her skirt, unlike some of the girls in this school, actually reached just above her knees and was perfectly snug. It made her look classy rather than trashy. Her posture was straight and her gaze was strict. Her jet-black hair that looked as if it's been ironed hung from a high neat ponytail, not a single hair out of place.

No wonder she made such a fuss over a sock.

Her tall, emo-ish friend had been eagerly telling her something before he saw Rafe's observing gaze. It was obvious they were talking about him, as was half of the canteen. Seriously people were a bit barbaric here. Have they not had a student come from London before?

After a moment, Norah turned around to look him in the eye and Rafe tried his best to show that this morning's unpleasant meeting was not forgotten. With a devil-may-care attitude, she went back to eating her lunch as if their encounter this morning didn't even take place. He briefly wondered what she'd be like in bed. Her neatness made it tempting to mess up that hair and get that crips shirt ripped off of her.

"Who's that girl? She was in our English Lit," Rafe asked a girl beside him, who, for the last half an hour, had been talking about dying her hair. Her name was Hazel and she spoke with Yorkshire twang.

She looked in the direction of the table and let out what almost sounded like a snarl.

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"Ugh, that weird creature. Her name is Norah, she's half English and half Japanese or Chinese or something. No one really talks to her. She thinks she's better than everyone because she has the highest grades."

"Does she always look so... serious?"

His newfound friend from the English class, Luke, snorted. "Yes. She kicked the shit out of Fred last year because he tripped on her foot. So you got off easily I'll tell you that."

"In all fairness I'm glad she did," Amber said. "He's such a creep."

She was a pretty girl, with light brown eyes and long lashes. Her fair skin made her look like a real life doll.

The most aggressive looking guy, Jack, sneered as he too looked in Norah's direction. "She just needs a good screw. Any girl as uptight as her needs it nice and rough, and then she'll relax."

Hazel burst out laughing, as did several guys at the table.

"Jesus Jack," Amber muttered, with more disapproval.

"We call her Gogo. You've seen the movie 'Kill Bill'?" Luke asked. Rafe nodded.

"Um... no one except you calls her that Luke you loser," Hazel said, taking a sip of her water. She made it painfully obvious that her diet consisted of a cracker and water.

"You know the Japanese schoolgirl from yakuza, Gogo Yubari? The one that had the meteor hammer? Doesn't she remind you of her?" Luke asked with enthusiasm, completely ignoring Hazel.

"Oh yeah, I see you what you mean now," Rafe said with a light chuckle. It was a slightly exaggerated nickname but in a way it fit.

"Luke here is obsessed with Tarantino movies," Amber explained.

Rafe recalled that his father had Tarantino around for dinner at their villas where one of his movies was shot but he figured he'd never get rid of Luke if he told him that. Plus at the time Rafe was as high as a kite and instead of enjoying the company of their guest he tried his best not to look like a baked vegetable.

From the looks of it, the group that welcomed him enthusiastically was the 'popular' crowd. This large group consisted of friends mostly from the first football team and the girls' netball team. Some were a third generation of friends as their parents and grandparents came to this school. Apparently the main requirement of this group was to be good-looking and athletic. And for cases like Henry- funny. A guy named Jonah also seemed popular in school but everyone just made poo jokes around him and Rafe had neither the interest or the patience to ask.

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But this popular bunch paled in comparison to the crowds he moved with around the world. Their minds and discussions were limited to the happenings of the town. The places they went to and events they attended could be counted on one hand. In other words the people here were as dull as the town.

Rafe was beginning to feel claustrophobic. His jet-setting days made his life thrilling. No two days were ever the same, even back in his school in London.

He went back to watching Norah as she stood up, put away her plate, and walked out of the cafeteria without looking back, her friend following close behind. Interestingly she also looked like she didn't want to be in this school no more than he did. She looked like she didn't belong here.

He briefly wondered if she was aware that her attitude made her the talk of school, and the talk wasn't very flattering. Rafe who was always popular couldn't imagine being so disliked... or recluse. But by the way she handled herself, Rafe guessed that she just simply couldn't give a-

"Fuck! I have Maths next. With Mr. Atlee. Kill me now," Luke groaned looking at his timetable.

Amber shot him a look. "He's not that bad. You always piss him off, that's why he hates you. What do you have, Rafe?"

Rafe was beginning to think Amber was the mom of this group.

"French," he said with boredom. Luke raised an eyebrow.

"You speak it?"

"No," Rafe sighed, regretting his choice of subjects.

"Why did you take it?"

He shrugged. At the time he didn't even think about what subjects he was taking because he hadn't planned on even taking them seriously. He had a list of people he would pay to get this stuff done for him. "My girlfriend at the time was French. Thought we could do some studying," Rafe said with a cheeky smirk.

Luke gave Rafe an appreciative slap on the shoulder. "Nice thinking mate. Was she hot?"

"Of course she was hot. Parisian model, legs up to here," Rafe gestured to his ears wistfully, remembering Charlene from one of his steamy summers.

Hazel threw her eyes down at her legs, a gesture that Jack noticed immediately. "Hazel, your legs only go up to here," he said poking her hip with a cruel laugh. She reddened and seethed at him, slapping his hand away.

"Go screw yourself, Jack."

Amber propped her chin with her hand and looked at Rafe with curiosity. "So, you said your father expects good grades for you to get out of here. You have a plan?"

"Not a clue," Rafe muttered. "I'm so fucked. I hardly speak French, history is boring as hell, and I haven't read a single book required for English Lit."

"What's your fourth subject?"

"Maths," Rafe replied.

Amber bit her lip. "Oh that's the hardest subject for me. I have no talent for maths."

Rafe shrugged. "Actually, for me that's the one subject that makes any sense." Only because his father made it clear that to earn money one has to learn to count money and some more droning on about importance of maths and logic and money.

The topic of school subjects and the thought of his authoritative father dampened his mood, and for the rest of their lunch break, Rafe sat pretending to listen to the mundane conversation while contemplating his own situation.

His spending allowance was a joke, and his every move was to be watched and reported by his dorm supervisor. His friends, his girlfriend Maria, his whole life left behind in London. This small town had more farm animals than people. In fact, he didn't even know this place existed until his father nearly stapled the map of England on his forehead in rage. His school, although impressively big and boasting great sport facilities, was a bore. And his entire dorm was the size of his closet back home.

He ran his hand through his hair. If he didn't produce results by the end of the year, god knows how long he would have to be stuck here. And what other form of punishment will his father think of next.

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