Chapter 4
The living room of the villa was as spacious as a small plaza. The polished marble floor reflected the luxurious crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
Charlotte followed Monica Quinn, her footsteps muffled by the soft wool carpet.
She could feel Monica's sharp gaze scanning her up and down, trying to figure out what kind of nerve hid inside her.
Charlotte kept her gaze straight ahead, her expression calm.
She had already scanned every detail of the place the moment she stepped inside.
The antique vase by the entryway, the priceless oil paintings on the walls, and the subtle woody fragrance lingering in the air. Everything screamed wealth beyond her wildest imagination.
But none of it could faze her in the slightest. Her goal was crystal clear: make the money. For Hazel's sake, she needed this cash.
"My son's name is Nolan Quinn," Monica finally said, her tone cold as ever. "He's got a nasty temper. The longest any of the last seven tutors survived was three days."
She stopped in front of a closed door on the second floor and turned to look at Charlotte. "If you're having second thoughts, you can still walk away."
Charlotte gave a faint smile. "Mrs. Quinn, let's not waste any time."
She was basically telling Monica to cut to the chase. No need for pointless chatter.
Monica looked surprised again. She said nothing more and pushed the door open.
A deafening blast of heavy metal hit them full force the second the door swung open.
The place was a disaster zone. Clothes, books, and game controllers were strewn all over the place.
Nolan, in a black T-shirt, sat with his back to the door, headphones on, furiously smashing keys on his keyboard.
The screen was filled with an intense in-game fight.
He didn't notice anyone had walked in.
Monica's face twitched, clearly at her breaking point.
She took a deep breath, trying to keep her cool, and turned to Charlotte. "You've got half an hour. If you can get him to listen to you explain even one problem, you pass."
With that, she turned and left, quietly closing the door behind her.
Alone in the room with Nolan, Charlotte stood there, calmly sizing him up.
His mechanics were razor-sharp. He was clearly a skilled gamer. Yet his tense shoulders radiated pure rage. Every keystroke came down like an angry punch.
Charlotte walked over to the speakers. Without turning them off, she turned the volume down a notch. The music quieted down, but didn't go away.
She was showing respect rather than making a hostile intrusion.
It worked. Nolan froze mid-combo, yanked his headset down to his neck, and spun around in his gaming chair.
He had a striking, chiseled face with sharp features, though his eyes flared with raw hostility.
"Who the hell are you?" He looked Charlotte up and down, making zero effort to hide his disdain. "Another tutor?"
Then he snorted, a mocking laugh escaping him. "How much did my mom blow this time? This would only be a waste of time."
Charlotte blew past his snark, her eyes drifting toward a physics test crumpled at the corner of his desk. A glaring red grade stamped the header: a failing 59%.
"Not bad at physics, huh?" she spoke up suddenly.
Nolan paused for a second, like he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Are you blind?" He jabbed an angry finger at the paper. "A fifty-nine is an F, genius."
"Twelve multiple-choice questions. You missed ten," Charlotte said smoothly, walking over. "On every single missed question, you picked the letter directly following the right answer. For example, problem one was A; you picked B. Problem two was C; you picked D.
"To pull that off, you had to solve every single equation accurately in your head first, then dodge the correct choice on purpose. Doing that is a lot harder than scoring a hundred percent."
The smirk on Nolan's face slowly faded away. He stared hard at Charlotte, and for the first time, genuine shock flickered in his eyes.
He had bombed that test on purpose to spite his grade-obsessed mother.
Nobody on earth knew his private scheme, yet this girl in a plain shirt had cracked his code at a single glance.
"You..." Words completely failed him at the moment.
Charlotte didn't give him a chance to catch his breath.
She grabbed a pen from the desk and snatched a piece of scratch paper. "You left the final free-response question totally blank. Think you couldn't crack it?"
As she spoke, she drew a quick diagram showing the forces on the paper.
"This question is about electromagnetic induction and conservation of momentum. It's a classic setup, but the calculations have two tricky parts." Her pen flew across the paper, her logic razor-sharp. "First, direction changes in momentum require piecewise calculations.
"Second, energy conversion. Most kids forget to account for thermal dissipation."
Nolan found his eyes tracking her pen across the page.
He assumed she'd deliver another boring lecture or try to pull rank like the other tutors.
Instead, she jumped straight into the math, pinpointing the exact bottlenecks where he had gotten stuck earlier. It felt as if she had read his mind.
In under five minutes, a flawless, step-by-step proof filled the sheet in neat, crisp handwriting.
Charlotte set the pen down and slid the paper over. "Still convinced you can't solve it?" Her clear, calm eyes met his, seeing right through every layer of his armor.
Somehow, Nolan's heart skipped a beat. For the first time around someone his own age, he felt completely exposed and outmatched.
He swallowed hard and picked up the scratch paper. But he kept up the tough act. "Ha, who knows, maybe you memorized the answer ahead of time."
Charlotte didn't get mad. She pulled out a chair and sat down across from him.
"I'm Charlotte Evans." She looked at him, her tone flat and unreadable. "I'm a freshman in the School of Physics at Norvail University. Starting today, I'm your tutor.
"I don't care what you were like before, or why you got an F. My job is to get your physics grade up to a solid A and land you a 5 on the AP exam before finals."
Her voice carried steel certainty. A faint smirk touched her lips. "My teaching method is simple. I'll find a hundred different ways to prove that none of your little games work on me."
Nolan was completely speechless.
He stared at the girl in front of him, not much older than he was.
She looked skinny and fragile, but her vibe was so powerful it felt suffocating.
At some point, the music had stopped. All they could hear was the sound of their breathing.
Half an hour quietly slipped by.
The door was quietly pushed open. Monica walked in.
She glanced at Nolan, who was frozen in place, then at the scratch paper on the desk. Finally, her gaze settled on Charlotte. "So?"
Charlotte stood up. "He's smart. He just needs someone who can actually earn his respect."
Monica walked over to Nolan and picked up the scratch paper. When she saw the clear, precise steps written out, a flicker of surprise and delight flashed in her eyes.
She knew her son all too well. Getting him to sit still and actually listen to someone explain a problem was nothing short of a miracle.
"All right," she said, turning toward Charlotte with total respect, every ounce of doubt wiped clean. "Starting tomorrow, seven to nine every evening."
She pulled out a wad of cash from her wallet and handed it over. "Here's your pay for the week, up front. We'll settle up every Sunday."
Charlotte took the cash without hesitation, sliding it straight into her pocket without bothering to count. "Thank you, Mrs. Quinn."
"I only have one request." Monica looked at Charlotte, her tone sincere. "I'd prefer you live on-site while tutoring him. You'll get a private guest room, full board, and double the pay. You're different from the rest. I'm trusting you with my son's future."