The Tutor, Part Eight

Trixie didn’t bat an eye at my annoyed glance, but also didn’t try to press any more cleaning on me. From what I could tell, the kitchen was spotless, but I was half expecting her to notice some nitpicky thing we hadn’t dealt with yet.

“That’s everything, Ms. Moore. Thank you for the help.”

“Great,” I muttered. Without another word, I left the kitchen.

I actually wasn’t sure if Trixie was the right target to vent my frustrations towards. She had been bossy, sure, but Annabelle also apparently said that I should keep cleaning instead of doing the job I was here for. And, of course, I was partly to blame for not standing up for myself and just walking away. Instead, I was my usual pushover self every step of the way.

The house was still intimidating in its size, but the layout was still straightforward. Now that I had been to Annabelle’s wing once, it was easy to retrace my steps. Down the long corridor on the first floor, back up the wide stairs by the front door, and all the way to the last door that opened into the spoiled teenager’s suite. I opened the door to her private living room without giving it a second thought, and immediately regretted doing so.

Annabelle was on a yoga mat, doing ‘upward facing dog.’ That would normally be fine, if not a little bit unexpected; except, in this case, the blonde was only half dressed. Her clothes were neatly folded in half over the back of the sofa, and Annabelle was only wearing a simple black bra and a matching thong. Since she was facing me, my eyes were immediately drawn to her cleavage, exaggerated from the yoga position. Since I was standing, I could also see over her shoulders to catch her mostly bare ass as well. Her body was as flawless undressed as it seemed when she was dressed, but it was also a body I should very much not be seeing without clothes.

I immediately averted my gaze, the rest of my body still frozen from the surprise. Thankfully, Annabelle’s eyes were closed in the stretched out position, but opening the door and stepping into the room must have alerted her to my presence. Maybe she thought I was Trixie, coming upstairs to deliver a fresh drink or something; I could see how she wouldn’t bat an eye when her young maid walked in on her like this.

Clearing my throat, still solidly staring out the window rather than at the half naked girl girl on the floor, I started with yet another unintentional, “Umm . . .”

“Oh. Meredith. You know, it’s polite to knock.”

Since I was making the effort to look away, I didn’t even know if she had opened her eyes yet. However, she didn’t seem particularly freaked out that it was me. Not in tone, at least; and there was no scrambling for clothes that I could see in my peripherals either. I guess there’s no shame when you’re confident and have a great body. “Sorry,” I mumbled. She was right. Even if we were studying here before, it was still Annabelle’s private space. I just hadn’t thought of it that way, since it wasn’t a bedroom. “I can wait outside, or something.”

“Don’t be silly,” Annabelle said, “I’m almost done. In the meantime, do you want to look over my answers?”

Like, while she was still doing half dressed yoga?

In a matter of seconds, I had already lost all my steam. Between the kitchen and her suite, I was considering a mini lecture for the girl. About how I was here to tutor her, not to do Trixie’s job. About how I didn’t appreciate how presumptuous she was in terms of waving me off to help without even asking me about it first. The mental dots hadn’t all been connected yet, but I still wanted to say something. If this was going to be more than one session, it was important to set boundaries.

But now, I was too thrown to even remember half the phrases that had formed on the way upstairs. “But, you’re-” I began, not sure where to even start. Speaking of boundaries, this was a whole different issue than what I had been preparing myself for. She was eighteen, and we were both girls, but the fact that she still attended high school made me feel a bit unsettled. “Can you please get dressed?” I ask. Immediately realizing I sounded a bit more like a babysitter than the peer she treated me like earlier, I made sure to hastily add, “Or, I guess I can check your work downstairs?”

“Nonsense, Meredith. Everything’s already set up in here,” she said, “And I’ll only be a few more minutes; promise. Does it really bother you that much?”

“Well,” I said, then hesitated. Yes, it bothered me. I was already confused enough in terms of how attractive she was despite my straightness, and that was before everything else. The frustration of cooking and cleaning with Trixie. The surprise of walking in on Annabelle like this. Most recently, the addition of ‘that much’ to the question. I was stuck between looking super reserved, or having to stumble through an explanation of how it bothered me when talking to a girl who clearly felt totally fine with all this.

Ultimately, I decided not to fight it. Mostly because Annabelle was using the same logic she used when telling me to go off with Trixie, but reversed. It would take me a few minutes to go through the problem set she completed, so she was just keeping herself busy in the meantime. Using the most of her time, I guess.

Perhaps my body language would be enough for her to realize that this was all a bit awkward for me, or maybe I’d be more prepared to discuss it next time. “It’s fine,” I said. Still not looking at her; it felt a bit strange to talk to someone without making any eye contact, but I didn’t want to risk another unintentional glance at her body while she was mid-stretch.

Which was going to be difficult. As I sat back down on the sofa, I realized that the table in front of me didn’t hide Annabelle in the slightest. And she was directly in my line of sight.