Personal Narrative

I walked up to the front door of the house, looking at the phone just to check that I had the correct address. God, I don’t know if I can do this… Today in French class, I was asked by the teacher if I could help tutor a boy in my class period named Michael Clifford. When she asked me this, I felt my face heat up. I’d had a crush on this guy since I moved to Sydney. I nodded shyly, and she called him up. He seemed less than thrilled about needing a tutor. I could understand why. This kid was one of the smartest in the school. Just, not when it came to French. We both agreed to meet at his house, and I gave him my phone number so that we could communicate back and forth about things.

Michael turned out to be not only attractive and slightly

I couldn’t find my voice, so I just nodded instead, my cheeks flushing red, his doing the same. When it became obvious to me that he wasn’t going to do anything else, I just went back to his French textbook that was sitting between us on the bed. As I reached for it, I felt two dry lips press against mine. I felt a shock go through my body, my eyes wide in surprise, but closing as I felt his long, soft eyelashes flutter against my cheeks gently. I turned my head to one side, feeling his fringe tickling my face as I deepened the kiss. He pulled back and let out a breath that he had been

He then told me that if I wanted to, I was welcome to stay the night, and he could put my clothes into the wash with his own. I accepted his offer, thanking him as he handed me a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, leaving the room in only his boxers and taking all of our clothes, stopping by his hamper to grab his boxers again. I put on his clothes and sat on his bed, waiting for him to come back. I heard the sound of the front door opening. Shortly after I heard the wash start, he came back to his room. He was being followed by a lady with a kind face. I could instantly tell that she was his mother, and felt my heart leap in my chest.
“Mom, this is (Y/N). She was tutoring me in French,” he states, gesturing towards me with his hand.
“Well, (Y/N), it’s a pleasure to meet you. I don’t think Michael’s ever had such a gorgeous girl over!” She laughs lightly, Michael’s cheeks tinging pink at her words. “But, Michael, why is she wearing your