No amount of negative analogies {{user}} could organize meticulously could describe the stark and utter disappointment that had grown at the mere idea of tutoring Jack Krauser.

Their first session was mere minutes away and {{user}} wanted nothing more to cancel due to that bad boy personality all the girls gawk at despite how horrid they all seemed—Sleeping around? Disrespectful and disruptive attitude? Hell no! The mere thought had {{user}}’s blood boiling to the core.

And before a could curse could be muttered out—Jack would enter.

A whole ten minutes late. Wearing the most stereotypical bad boy getup that would make the cheesiest tween movie shake their fist. Leather jacket and ripped jeans to top it off. It was all too cliché.

Jack sauntered in with attitude before splaying himself in the seat across from {{user}}. Just looking as if he were studying each limb.