As I was walking Louie, my family's seven year-old beagle, I came across Mr. Stevenson sitting on his porch looking through the newspaper. He spotted me and called out hello. I smiled and waved, and he approached me.
Mr. Stevenson and his son had just moved into our neighborhood a few weeks ago, and they seemed pretty nice. Their house was just a few houses down from ours. His son looked to be around the junior high age, and Mr. Stevenson was a divorced father, so it was just the two boys. As for me, I lived with my parents and my younger sister.
"Hello Beth," Mr. Stevenson said with a smile. He took off his reading glasses and held them in his hand.
"Hi Mr. Stevenson, how've you been?" I asked.
"I've been good, thanks. I read in the paper that you made the Honor Roll for this semester."
I nodded, "Yes, I got a little lucky I guess," I said with a laugh.
"Nah, I think it was more than luck," he said. "Actually, I was wondering if you could do me a favor?"
"Sure."
"My son Matt is having trouble in school. He's falling behind in his math class. I tried to put him in one of the after-school tutoring programs, but he's so awkward and shy around his classmates that it didn't really work out. Would you be willing to be his private tutor? I'd pay you for your time."
I agreed and we talked about a schedule, how much I'd be paid, etc. We decided that I'd be his private tutor every week night, helping him with his math homework. Each night, I'd tutor Matt about 2-3 hours, depending on the homework load. We decided that Matt would come over to my house, as Mr. Stevenson had a lot of work to catch up at home for his job and needed the quiet anyway.
"That sounds like a plan," I said. "When do you want me to start?"
"Would Monday be alright?" he asked.
"Sure, that's fine with me."
"If you have the time, would you like to meet him now? So he won't be so nervous on Monday."
"Sure," I said. "I'd like to meet him."
I hooked up Louie outside and followed Mr. Stevenson up the walk.
"He just turned 12 and is at that gawky age," he chuckled.
I smiled, "Oh that's alright - I still haven't outgrown mine," I laughed.
"Aw, come on, you carry yourself like a young lady," he commented. "How old are you? If you don't mind me asking."
"I don't mind," I said. "I'm 18."
"You don't want to know how old I am," he laughed.
"Yes, I do. But you're a new neighbor, so I won't press you," I giggled.
He opened the screen door open for me and I walked into the house. "I'm 47....Matt!" he called up the stairs.
I heard a little boy's voice, "Yeah?"
"Come down here!"
"Why?" I heard the boy ask.
I giggled. As Mr. Stevenson explained why he must tear himself from the upstairs, I glanced around the living room. It really was a very nice house, from what I saw so far. A nice couch, a recliner, nice tv.
Finally, an awkward, skinny little boy shyly emerged from the staircase. He sized me up. I smiled.
"Hello Matt, I'm Beth," I introduced myself.
"Let's all sit down," Mr. Stevenson suggested.
I sat on the couch next to Mr. Stevenson and Matt curled up in the recliner. He eyed me suspiciously. Mr. Stevenson explained to him what was going to happen with the tutoring. After the explanation, Matt quietly got up from his seat and stood in front of me.
"Beth?" he asked me.
"Yes, Matt?" I asked.
"Can I give you a kiss?"
I smiled, but fortunately Mr. Stevenson intervened and politely told Matt to go to his room. Matt obeyed and pattered up the steps of the staircase.
"He's a nice kid," I said.
"Yeah, he's a good kid. Girl-crazy already," he laughed. "He had a detention a few days ago for trying to sneak into the girls locker room."
I giggled, "He's seems real nice though. The first 12 year-old who wanted to kiss me!" I joked.
"You can't blame him," Mr. Stevenson commented.
"What?"
He looked at me and blushed slightly. He got up from the couch and told me that he'd drop Matt off at my house on Monday. I agreed and we said our good-byes.
I walked down the sidewalk and continued my walk with Louie. Just what exactly did Mr. Stevenson mean by 'you can't blame him'? I had an idea about what he meant, and when I thought of it, it really was a sweet thing to say.
That night in bed, I laid in bed and thought of Mr. Stevenson. My parents told me that his first name was Charlie, but I still addressed him as 'mister' as a sign of respect. 47. I smiled, proud of myself that I could somehow attract attention from a grown, adult man. I was sure he was attracted to me. With that comment he said, and the way he looked at me, I was sure I was right. I thought about him. He was not at all rugged and broad shouldered. I guessed him at about 5'7" or 5'8" with a slender build. He had dark hair that he combed back and dark eyes to match. Once I thought about it a little bit, he really was quite cute. My two ex-boyfriends had been the tall, hunky type, but I thought about how nice it'd be to kiss someone closer to my height, his face closer to mine. I was about 5'4" with a slim build, green eyes and brown hair. Matt seemed like a nice kid, but he wasn't the reason I was looking forward to Monday.
When I came home from school on Monday, I changed out of my pants into shorts. It had been chilly that morning when I left for school, but it had warmed up since then. In about 15 minutes Charlie would be here with Matt. I listened to "Like A Virgin" while I applied a little bit more makeup to my face. I wondered how Charlie would feel if he found out if I was a virgin. But mostly likely, I'd never get to find out.
I had the house to myself, as both of my parents were still at work and my younger sister in one of her many detention sessions. The doorbell rung and I went to answer it. I opened it and Charlie stood there with his hands in his pockets and Matt, who carried a textbook and a notebook.
I smiled, "Hello boys".
"Hello, Beth," Charlie said. "Thanks so much for doing this."
"It's no trouble," I said.
At that moment, Matt tugged at his father's arm. Charlie leaned down and Matt whispered something to him. Charlie then stood up straight again.