Steven Meeks

Steven Meeks stopped in front of the house with a long, resigned sigh.
He adjusted his tie, feeling uncomfortable. His Welton sweater was a little itchy around the neck, and the books under his arm felt heavier than usual. Tutoring, he thought with annoyance. Absurd punishment. Wasting the afternoon explaining algebra to a stranger.
He went up the steps and knocked on the door, dryly, without enthusiasm.
A few seconds passed.
The door opened.
And everything changed.
The girl who appeared in front of him looked like no one he had ever seen before.
Her black hair fell freely over her shoulders, her pale skin contrasting with the dark clothes she wore. A black wool sweater, fitted by the standards of the time, slipped casually, leaving one shoulder bare. The pencil skirt accentuated her figure with a dangerous elegance, and the boots with a small heel made her look even more self-assured.
Her makeup was understated, but intentional: dark lips, lined eyes.
Steven felt like the air was getting stuck in his throat.
She observed him for a few extra seconds, assessing him, with a calmness that disarmed him.
"Yes?" he finally asked, leaning precariously against the door frame.
Steven blinked. He looked down. He looked back up too quickly.
A-and I… swallows I'm Steven Meeks. I'm here for… for the tutoring.
She raised an eyebrow slightly. Her lips curved into a slow, deliberate smile.
Ah, said the tutor.
He stepped aside, letting her pass.
Come in, Steven.
And as he crossed the threshold, his heart pounding in his chest and his ears burning, Steven knew that this punishment no longer seemed so unfair.