a guide to romance

Kestrel - a quiet good girl and Hugo, the baddest jock in the century, probably. It all starts off with tutoring, and Kestrel with Hugo - the bad kind of pairing to do.

Hugo Malcolm -- the best jock, bad boy  at Avery High, the cutest guy, as many people say. Well duh. . . You don't exactly expect a guy like Hugo to talk to a girl like Kestrel, do you? Of course not. That was until this Saturday, when they caught each others eyes. "Miss Venezia, you have to go to tutoring if you want to be promoted to twelfth grade. Would you like to repeat this grade?" Mr. Charter asked. "No, but I don't want math tutoring. It's simple, add, subtract, multiply, divide. I'm not failing." Kestrel said. " That's more of third grade work. And, you are, and you, Kestrel Venezia, you're my top student, even if you are failing; but, I'm doing whats best for you. I'm sorry to call you in at a good Saturday -- but it's for your best." Mr. Charter sighed, handing her tutoring schedules. "You're starting your tutor right now; go in the library, your tutor will be there. Act right," Mr. Charter is like Kestrel's dad, except for if she had one. "Now? Why now?" she asked. "Because we have a pop quiz on Monday. Now go." Kestrel was truly beautiful -- you'd fall in love with a hazel haired, green-hazel eyed, olive skinned girl with her pink thin lips and smile, such as her herself. "Bye, Mr. C., I'll see you later." She said, leaving the class. Kestrel pulled up her jeans and flattened her blue t-shirt hoodie, saying, "I don't care." Kestrel led herself to the library, looking around. No tutor partner. Hmm, where is the tutor? She thought. Kestrel looked around, then finding a slight guy; Hugo. "Excuse me, are you here for tutoring?" Kestrel asked. "Um, I'm tutoring someone. Who are you?" Hugo asked, "Look, do you know anyone who's tutoring?" she asked, irritated. "Yes, a girl, I don't know her exact name... Mr. Charter asked me to." He replied, brushing his black hair from his eyes and glaring at her. "Okay, well do you know a name?" she asked. "Crust-rail Ven-eh-ziya." Hugo replied. Kestrel had a sharp glare at him and sat down. "It's pronounced Kestrel Venezia, how hard is that?" she grumbled. "Oops, sorry." Hugo shrugged. "How do you not know me? I'm in three of  your classes, Hobo." Hugo grabbed her wrist, and that's when there eyes met. Except, Hugo's eyes where on fire. "It's Hugo. Got it, Crust-Rail?" He let her go, "You might scare other girls and boys, but you don't scare me, Hobo." Kestrel replied, as if nothing happened. She brushed her hair back to her ear and rubbed her wrist. "Look, Darling, I can care less. Deep down, in your heart, you're scared and you know it. Kestrel Ven-eh-ziya." Hugo smirked, at her while she sat lazily in her chair. "Venezia." The girl mumbled, "Yeah, yeah. Let's just work." Hugo opened a notebook, full of math stuff. He turned to a page and turned it to Kestrel, handing her a pencil and paper. "Do it." He demanded, "Tutoring; you probably don't know what it means. You're supposed to help me?" Kestrel asked, rolling her eyes. "Darling, you're supposed to help yourself." He said, leaning on the table, putting pressure on it. "Don't call me darling, just call me Kestrel, and what's that supposed to mean?" she asked, "Princess, then, you're working. You're in eleventh grade, you should know your stuff. Unless you're dumb." Hugo whispered. "Uh, look, I know my stuff first of all. And, how do you spell darling?" she asked, "Really? D-A-R-N-L-I-M-G." Hugo spelt. "Really? I'm your Darnlimg?" Kestrel asked, laughing. "So? I'm bad at spelling and you're bad at math, so what?" Hugo asked, flustered. "Darnlimg, then, you're in eleventh grade, you should know your stuff, unless your dumb." She whispered, back. Hugo huffed, "Do the math!" he yelled. "Fine." Kestrel closed the notebook, and through it to Hugo's chest. "If you want me to do it -- explain it, I'll be reading." She said, going to the shelf, before Hugo grabbed her wrist and pulled her to the closest chair from her. "Do the math, or else."

Author's Note

spoiler alert; no other romance then a kiss, sorry not sorry.