First lines given – #4

Welcome to First Lines Given! If that sentence confuses you, here’s a link to where I explain what this is.

Today’s first line is by LJ! She said:

Love the imagery in this one. Here’s the result:

I looked out the window at the rain trickling down the glass. The droplets raced each other down. The one I picked didn’t win, which sucked. I always tended to pick the slower droplets. Perhaps me focusing on them made them slower.

“Lily?” my tutor asked from across the dark library table. I said library table, because I felt like it fits. All the tables in this room would be at an old, too-quiet-for-me library. Then again, we were in my father’s study.

Anyways, my tutor wasn’t that much older than me. He had a weird, teal jacket on that matched none of the brown and dark blue colors he wore. His dark brown eyes were a chocolatey swirl. Weird.

“Are you paying attention?”

“Does me paying attention get you paid more? You know the longer you stay here, the more you get paid. It isn’t based on what I do.” I turned back toward the glass. My next droplet didn’t win either. Shame. The rain seemed to be getting lighter though. “It almost never rains here. But the rain is so calming.”

He sighed. He must’ve been thinking about why he chose this job. I was the reason so many had gotten fired before. Or so they thought. Nothing here was really on me.

“It’s not like you could speed any of this up if you’re not paying attention,” he muttered, turning the page.

That was where he messed up. I saw that as a challenge. I grabbed the practice sheet from him, placed it on top of my binder, and bent back in my chair so he couldn’t see my work. The algebra looked complicated, but I honestly knew more than they thought. I wasn’t that blond. After I finished, I placed the paper in front of him and turned it around so he could see my answers.

He read over the numbers, double checking himself, before glancing up at me. “Why am I here if you don’t need me?” He almost sounded sad. Like free money wasn’t for him. Or I guess disappointed that his skills wasn’t needed after all.

I turned back toward the window. “I stood up for a friend. Teacher got onto me. Lowered my test grade.” I shrugged. My leg bounced in a fast rhythm. “Now I’m here.” I turned back to him with the dullest expression I had. “Parents overreact as well, but I’m sure you’ve seen that.”

He nodded. “It was already noted during the interview.” He paused for a moment. “Is there anything else you need tutoring in? English? Geometry? Physics?”

“Can’t take the free money, can you?” I crossed my arms and leaned further back in my chair. “Watch some videos. Do your own homework. Look for another job. Why does you being here have to do with me anymore? Just hang out.”

“That’s not exactly what I’m paid to do though. I’d rather do something.” He glared at me with a sullen look. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Are you?” I asked. I reached across the table and grabbed his work — my notes — from him. I looked at my names all over his papers. My handwriting. “I need to stop making everything up,” I muttered under my breath.

I glanced back up, realizing I was alone in the room again. He — my imagination — was gone.

And I was always alone.