Chapter 44: Elite-Level Private Tutoring (For Free)

Chapter 44: Chapter 44: Elite-Level Private Tutoring (For Free)

The highlights continued for a while, with Nicole still nestled comfortably against my side. Every now and then, she’d react to something on the screen, and I’d find myself paying more attention to her than the match. I wasn’t sure when that had become a habit, but considering the company I was keeping, I couldn’t say I was particularly surprised.

Eventually, I pushed myself up from the couch.

"Where are you going?" Nicole asked immediately, lifting her head from my shoulder to look at me.

"To my room to read." I pointed at myself for emphasis. "Student. Remember?"

Nicole blinked, then gave a small nod. "True."

She let out a sigh and rose from the couch, which immediately made me narrow my eyes at her.

"I also have something to work on," she said, looking up at me with a sweet smile.

I paused, processing that for a moment before looking at her. "So you’re only getting up because I am?"

Nicole nodded immediately. "Exactly."

I let out a short huff of a laugh, shook my head, and grabbed my bag before heading for my room. Nicole headed toward Chloe’s room, apparently satisfied with herself.

—

It didn’t take me long to take a shower, partly because I hadn’t had one since getting back, and partly because there was probably some scientific study somewhere confirming that a shower could keep a person awake.

After changing into a T-shirt and a pair of comfortable shorts that I’d probably end up sleeping in, I set up at my reading table with my notebooks and the textbooks I wanted to go through. I had a few things to review, and if I was going to get any of it done tonight, I needed to start before my bed began making suggestions.

About thirty minutes into my reading, my phone buzzed on the table.

I glanced at the screen and saw Sasha’s messages still waiting for a reply. I hadn’t forgotten about them; Nicole had simply given me a pretty good reason not to look at my phone.

Nicole’s message sat at the top of the notifications, naturally.

Nicole: If you get stuck on anything, send me a picture of the page. I’ll explain it to you.

I smirked at the screen. It was probably an excuse to keep talking to me, although I knew she genuinely meant it. Nicole was perfectly capable of using a flimsy excuse to get my attention and still caring enough to help me understand whatever I was struggling with.

I typed back: Sure thing, Professor Collins.

Her reply came a moment later.

Nicole: 😏

I shook my head, still smirking, then put my phone back on the table and returned to my reading.

Another twenty minutes passed before I ran into a problem I couldn’t just work through by rereading the same paragraph and hoping it would suddenly make sense. I understood the general idea, but one part of the derivation wasn’t clicking, and without understanding that part, the example that followed was practically useless to me.

Normally, I’d have spent another thirty minutes to an hour digging through the textbook, checking my notes, and looking for another explanation online until I found one that made sense. It wasn’t exactly unusual. Engineering had a way of making you work twice as hard to understand something that looked perfectly reasonable once somebody finally explained it properly.

Then I remembered Nicole’s offer.

I glanced at my phone, considering it for a moment before deciding there wasn’t much harm in taking her up on it. She’d offered, after all. It would be rude not to.

Or something like that.

I picked up my phone, took a picture of the page, and sent it to her with a text that read: I don’t quite get how they went from this equation to the next one. Where did the h² — h¹ term come from?

I set the phone down and turned back to my textbook, expecting to give her a little time to respond. Instead, her message showed as read almost immediately, but no reply came.

I waited a little, figuring she might be busy with whatever she’d said she had to work on. I wasn’t expecting her to put it aside just to answer my question.

After another minute, I turned back to my textbook and tried to figure it out myself. I was halfway through searching for a YouTube tutorial that might explain the derivation in a way my textbook apparently couldn’t when my phone buzzed.

Nicole had sent a voice note.

Six minutes and two seconds.

I stared at the duration, then smiled. Apparently, I wasn’t getting a quick explanation; I was getting a private lecture.

I opened the message and played it, listening as she walked me through the steps I’d been struggling with. She explained where the equation came from, why the terms were arranged that way, and how the previous relationship led to the next line. She even pointed out the part that had probably confused me in the first place, as if she’d been sitting beside me watching me stare at the page.

By the time the voice note ended, I understood it.

Just like that.

I looked back at the textbook and went through the derivation again, this time without getting stuck halfway through. Nicole had made it sound so straightforward that I briefly considered being offended on behalf of the thirty minutes I’d been prepared to waste figuring it out.

—

After that, we fell into a rhythm for the rest of the night. Whenever I ran into something I couldn’t quite understand, I’d take a picture of the page and send it to her. She’d read my message, then send back a voice note explaining whatever I’d asked about. Sometimes her explanations lasted less than a minute; other times, they stretched to three or four, depending on how much I needed to understand before the next step made sense.

And every time, I got it.

I wasn’t sure whether I should be grateful that Nicole was this good at explaining things or concerned that I’d just discovered a way to get elite-level private tutoring for free whenever I needed it. Probably both.

Eventually, I worked through everything I’d planned to cover for the night. I packed my notebooks and textbooks away, stretched in my chair, and reached for my phone again.

I opened Nicole’s chat and typed: I’m about to go to bed now. You?

Nicole read my message almost immediately, as usual, and sent back a reply.

Nicole: I’ll go to bed in an hour’s time.

I glanced at the time in the corner of my screen. 1:24 AM.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair as I considered that information. An hour meant she was planning to stay awake until at least 2:24 AM, which wasn’t particularly surprising. Nicole had a habit of going to bed late, and apparently, being a highly accomplished engineer and a university professor hadn’t done anything to improve her sleeping schedule.

Not that mine was anything to brag about, considering I was sitting at my reading table at almost half past one in the morning.

Still, I wondered what she planned to do for another hour. I could tell her to go to bed earlier, but I had a feeling that would be about as effective as telling her not to tease me. She’d probably agree sweetly and do whatever she wanted anyway.

Then again, knowing Nicole, she might actually listen if I told her to.

I shook my head with a small smile and started putting my phone down before another thought occurred to me.

Maybe I could make her breakfast tomorrow.

It seemed fair. She’d spent a good part of the evening helping me with my work, and even though she’d offered to do it, I appreciated the effort. Besides, it wasn’t as if I could repay her by sending her a six-minute voice note explaining something she already understood better than I did. Breakfast seemed like a more reasonable option.

I picked up my phone again and typed: Alright. Good night. Sweet dreams

Her reply arrived a moment later.

Nicole: I’ll text it before I go to bed.

I smiled at the screen.

Of course she would.

I couldn’t even argue with her reasoning. It was her routine, and she was committed to it.

Still smiling, I locked my phone and placed it on the table before getting out of my chair. I turned off the light, crossed the room, and climbed into bed, settling beneath the covers with a quiet sigh.

Tomorrow, I’d make her breakfast. Maybe something a little more elaborate than my usual breakfast, as a proper thank-you for all the help she’d given me tonight.

But that brought up another problem: I still had no idea what her favourite food was. I supposed I could ask her over breakfast and work from there.

With that decision made, I closed my eyes and let myself drift off to sleep.