Tutor and Tutee (Deleting)

Chapter Eight

After hugging for a few more seconds, I resumed back to tutoring Nate, and this time, he was finally listening.
Human biology was quite a fun topic for me, but knowing Nate—the one who has the lowest score for science—he hates science. I struggled quite a bit when going through human biology with him. He doesn't understand a lot about it and needed me to explain to him more than three times just for him to get it.
    I decided that maybe we should actually take a break because I could see that Nate was struggling to cope with the topic and was having troubles doing the questions in the workbook for practice.
    I placed a hand on his shoulder. "Let's take a break. I know I said that you won't be having any breaks for today's session, but seeing that you're struggling that much, it can't be helped."
     Nate stood up with his hands up high as if reaching for the ceiling.
    "WOO! FREEDOM!" he shouted with a grin.
   I sighed at his immaturity and shook my head. He was like a child when it comes to resting during study sessions. I really wondered how he made it to high school—no offense, Nate. I snickered for a brief moment and went to the kitchen to take some cold water from the fridge. Before entering the kitchen, I saw Nate opening a can of soda and drinking it.
    For a few seconds, I just stared at him until an idea popped into my head. I smirked. Is he ticklish? I snuck up behind him, smirk not leaving. I might have known him since middle school, but I've never tried tickling him. He used to tickle me a lot and he would chase me like a cat chasing a mouse.
    After placing his can of soda back in the fridge, I wrapped both my arms around his stomach and started tickling him. But Nate wasn't laughing. My smirk fell and I withdrew my arms, backing away a little. I was kind of scared, to be completely honest.
    Nate turned to me with the scariest looking smirk I have ever seen him wear. Before he could even say anything, my mind went blank and all I could think of was run.
I ran back into our room, laughing like a little kid playing tag with his friends.
    When I was about to turn around to look at him with a smirk from my bed, a shadow of a figure hovered above me, and I knew I was doomed.
    Nate tackled me down on my bed and started tickling my sides with a victorious smirk. I just kept laughing, begging him to stop. "Nate, please—stop!" I wheezed out with laughter.
    "Tried to tickle me, huh? Don't mess with me when you're ticklish yourself!" His triumphant grin stood still on his face.
    "I'm sorry—please—let me—go!" I wheezed, laughter getting louder.
    At this point, I really wanted Nate to stop. I could barely breathe because of all the laughing.
    I gripped Nate's wrists, tears forming in my eyes from laughing way too much. But Nate wasn't having any mercy. He continued tickling me, hoisting up my legs on his shoulders, preventing me from kicking him off.
    His hand suddenly slipped underneath my shirt and brushed against my sensitive sides, causing me to yelp in surprise and shudder. I immediately kicked his shoulders harshly, causing him to fall off of me and onto my bed.
    I glared at him, face red and eyes filled with tears. My shirt was lifted up right above my belly button as I gripped onto the pillow that I happened to be lying my head down on.
    As soon as Nate looked at me, he wanted to smile but his face suddenly turned pink.
Adorable, I thought, small smile forming on my lips.
    The position I was in was really suggestive, just being honest with myself, but I could care less now as I started breathing normally again.
    I sat up, shirt falling back to its original position and grabbed the pillow that I was lying on and smacked Nate with it.
    "Pervert!" I screamed childishly with a blush and a smile.
    As I kept hitting him with the pillow and calling him a pervert with every hit, he just laughed and blocked my hits. I placed the pillow aside of me and frowned at him, arms crossed in annoyance. He just smiled and reached out his hand to grab me. But before he could even make contact with my shoulder, I got off the bed and huffed, "I'm getting some fresh air."
    "What? Oh, come on, Jone," he chuckled. "Don't be like that."
    I just ignored him and walked outside of our dorm, hearing him say, "Okay, fine. Just make sure to come back," before closing the door.
    Stupid Nate, I sighed.
    I decided to go to the water cooler which was beside the washroom to drink since I didn't feel like going back to my room to meet Nate's adorable smile.
    I found a water cooler just behind of the wall of the last dorm and decided to head to it. Since our dorm was in the middle, I had to walk quite far considering how massive the building was.
    When I made it to the water cooler, I just realized how empty it was in the building that I was in. I mean, it was the weekends. Who the hell would go out of their dorms for no reason besides refilling their water or hanging out with their friends in the nearby mall?
    I realized that I was just staring at the water cooler blankly as I was pulled into my thoughts. This always happens . . . I sighed.
    But before I was about to drink from it, I felt a presence behind me—no, I felt many presences.
    I then heard snickers and before I knew it, I was slammed against the wall right beside the water cooler. I groaned in pain and growled at Nate's gang. Of course, it was them. Who else?
    "Hey, fag, I heard you're roomies with Nate now," said a smirking Kelvin Benson, the one closest to Nate in his gang. "Bet he's treating you like shit, huh?"
"You're wrong!" I wanted to say. But the words wouldn't come out. Instead, I just growled at him.
    "Showing us attitude, huh?" Connor Tolbert said with a devious smirk.
    For some reason, my lips curved into a small smirk and I let out a chuckle. What the hell am I doing?!
    "What's so funny!" Kelvin demanded, enraged. "Your face disgusts me!"
    He then wrapped his hand on my neck, tightening it, causing me to have difficulties in breathing. He used his free arm, which was his left arm, and slammed it against my face.
    Both of my hands gripped his right hand around my neck. I finally gave in and just begged him to stop. As if he would . . .
    He laughed at how pathetic I was being and slammed my head on the ground, his grip around my neck tightening. I began gasping for air and coughing.
    Once he released me, I was relief for a few seconds before the rest of the gang started punching me and kicking me, calling me names with every hurting impact.
    Bruises became more visible, blood oozed out more from various areas that were injured. I started having a really bad headache and my vision started getting really fuzzy. I could still hear their laughters and feel their brutal hits, but I also started feeling numb.
    I wanted to scream for help but I was too weak to. All I could do was hope that someone comes to save me and be right beside me, comforting me when I wake up. But I didn't just hope for a random student or teacher to save me. Nate was the person who I hoped for . . .