6

                                    

                                          
༻ℝ𝕠𝕤𝕖'𝕤 ℙ𝕆𝕍: ༺
He finally smiled. "Nice to meet you, Rose."
He had a hint of an accent. Barely, but when he said my name, there was a slight roll to the 'R' that only someone with Italian heritage could perfect. You could see it in his features too, in his tanned complexion, his dark brown eyes and thick eyebrows. In the smile that now lifted the corner of his lips. It wasn't hard to understand why every girl in school practically fell at the man's feet, he was incredibly good looking and based on the slight twitch of his lips as he watched me study him, he knew it too.
"You're a senior?" he asked me, doing a scan of my own face like I had to him. I felt my cheeks heat. I was nothing special to look at. My hair was still a bit damp from my shower this morning and was most likely a frizzy mess of dark blonde. My skin was pale, my features ordinary. The only part of me that wasn't plain were my eyes, which were a dark blue colour but were currently dim and swollen from the lack of sleep. 
I nodded in answer to his question and he hummed, sweeping his gaze downwards, over the cream sweatshirt that I wore, then the straight black trousers and then the clunky black shoes that I'd shoved on in case the streets were still icy outside. My coat was stuffed in the seat beside me but the rest of my outfit was enough to indicate I didn't have money and I shifted in my seat, waiting for the judgement. "I don't recognise you," he simply stated, raising a thick, dark brow.
I shook my head. "We don't have classes together."
He smirked. "Well of course not, I'm not smart enough to be in any of your classes. But I haven't seen you around school either."
"I'm sure you have," I muttered, not wanting to admit that he wouldn't have because I spend all my time in the library, hiding from the rest of my classmates. 
He simply shook his head. "I would've remembered." 
I blushed but turned towards my bag, hiding my face as I dove in and pulled out my planner, a pen and a list of when all the assignments were due or the exams were held. "So," I said, turning back to him only when my face had cooled down, "which subjects do we need to focus on."
He shrugged, slouching back in his chair so he no longer loomed over me. "All of them."
"Well, the next assignment coming up is the calculus exam in the last week of February," I stated, reading off the sheet for the exact date that his class would sit the paper. "That gives us three weeks to work on a couple of the assignments that you failed last semester. Any preferences?"
He narrowed his eyes a little, watching me in what looked like amusement before shaking his head. "Doesn't matter to me."
"What subjects did you fail?"
He lifted a shoulder. "English, Biology, Chemistry and Italian."
"Aren't you Italian?" I said, my brows furrowed.
He looked surprised that I knew that, but everyone in school knew about him. His family. His father. "Half Italian," he said, "but that doesn't mean I can speak Italian." 
I frowned. "Your father doesn't speak it at home?"
He shook his head and folded his arms over his broad chest. "No point, none of us would have a damn clue what he was saying. He sometimes swears in Italian so my mom can't call him out but that doesn't help me much with the assignment." 
I tried not to smile at that and nodded. "Okay, well, how about we start with the American literature assignment since you need to do a book review. Did you read one of the options from last semester?"