Everyone knows of Ha Sooyoung.
Most know her by her preferred name Yves, but it is the same either way—the people still have her deeply imprinted in the recesses of their minds. After all, who doesn’t know of the campus fuckgirl that only goes for girls?
You are no exception to having knowledge of Sooyoung. After all, she is your seatmate for every class you had, and while she is regularly absent, she is a regular hindrance when present. During lectures, she likes to fling paper balls at unsuspecting classmates, flirt with any female classmate or TA, or play games on her mobile phone loudly. The fact that she is your seatmate only makes it worse, considering she has her feet on the table most of the time.
Now you have to tutor her. The bane of your existence. Ha Sooyoung. Yves. Tutor. Tutor her.
Your look of disbelief meeting your professor’s determined gaze melts into a sigh of resignation. You know that no amount of whining or pouting would result in a win for you—Yves had the poorest performance, barely scraping through any of her tests, whereas you aced every test given during your course of study. It would only be natural for you to be tutoring her.
Yves flashes a smirk and wink from the front row of the lecture theatre, giving you a two-fingered salute as the professor leaves.
“Hey, babygirl. Guess you’re my new tutor.”
“Hi.” You cannot help but let bitterness seep into your tone, but you bite down on the bullets you wish to fire.
“You don’t seem that happy.”
“No, but it’s fine. Let’s get down to business.”
“Uh-uh, not today. I’ve got a party to get to. How about this, give me your phone.”
You hesitantly pass her your phone, and she enters her number in.
“Call me.” She flashes another smirk and a wink, pushing her hair back. The phone in your hand displays ’ yves 💘 ’.
—–
When you call Yves, you hear more of the chatter in the background than her voice. However, she is still audible, and that is all you need.
“Hello?”
“Sooyoung. I’ll tutor you beginning tomorrow.”
“Oh, it’s you, babygirl. Sure, see you after class?”
Huh. That was easy.
“Good, please bring along the Calculus textbook—”
Indistinct chatter rings across the line, and you vaguely hear the crowd chanting “Drink! Drink! Drink!” before Yves’s voice cuts through the line again.
“Sorry, babygirl, I’ve got to jet. I ain’t gonna win this game of beer pong talkin’ to you. See you tomorrow.”
Before you can even say anything, the call is cut. You take a deep breath, deciding to let it go. Maybe this would be the only time. After all, innocent until proven guilty, right?
With a long exhale, you throw yourself back into whatever work you were doing.
—————
When Yves appears after class, she staggers into the classroom, clutching her head.
“Fuck, I shouldn’t have drank that much last night.”
She crashes on the chair next to you, immediately folding her arms on the table, resting her head on it. Her eyes open blearily when you request for her to take her Calculus textbook out.
“I didn’t bring it.”
You halt, frustration beginning to build.
“I thought I told you to bring it.”
“Well, babygirl, I forgot. Looks like we can’t do this today then.” Yves rises, staggering towards the door. Repeated calls of her name fall on her deaf ears as she rounds the corner and disappears.
You take a deep breath. Tomorrow.
—–
[You sent a message:]
Yves
Tomorrow, after class.
[yves 💘 sent a message:]
Hey babygirl
I’ve got a party tomorrow.
[You sent a message:]
You’re ditching your grades for a party?
A party in the afternoon?
[yves💘 sent a message:]
Come on, live a little, it’s fun to cut loose!
Yeah, I need to go set it up.
Wanna come?
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