The Perfect Catch

by Jenna Rose

“Testosterone-filled-wildebeest?” I chuckle. “You know, I like that.” “I thought you might,” she groans. “I think I’m going to talk to the administration about changing the mascot from the Blue Devils to that.”

“Yeah, you’d think so, wouldn’t you?” I shrug. “But then again, when my grades drop, people will just assume it’s because I’m slacking, or because I’m a dumb jock. But when your student’s grades drop, the school will look at your success rate as a tutor and think…Wow, she’s not really cut out for this, is she?”

“Goddamn, babe, you look like a movie star,” I say as she walks up to where I’m waiting for her at the bottom of the steps. She tries to hide her blush by looking me up and down. I’m wearing a relatively plain black suit—I’d thought about wearing something kind of outlandish just to get her goat but decided to be a gentleman tonight, and went with a pair of bright red Gucci loafers, which she notices instantly.

“Who are you? Brad Pitt?” “I’m not, but thanks for the comparison,” I reply. “My dick’s bigger than his.”