The Perfect Match 15+ (Completed)

Summary: Niall Horan is the epitome of bad news. After his mother passes away, he finds himself in the battle with drugs and alcohol. With jeopardy of not graduating his senior year, his teacher Ms. Aleman pairs him with tutor Aubrey Osborn, daughter of a man who may know Niall a bit too well. Ms. Aleman thinks Aubrey and Niall are the perfect match, but their histories beg to differ. On top of it, Aubrey is applying to the most competitive schools in the nation, while Niall could care less about a higher education. Two teenagers. Two hearts. Two stories. Will it be the perfect match?

i'm not responsible for the bad language & sexual scenes. it's left upon yourself to read this fan-fic. your choice, not mine. (:
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I Just Really Liked The Story (:


24. Epilogue (:


I bolt down the stairs and see my mother preparing pancakes for my father and me. As usual, my mother made more for my father because he has a larger appetite. I sit in my usual seat and sip on a glass of orange juice studying the new photographs on the wall. You see, my mother is a professional photographer, and I happen to believe her portfolio is flawless, which is probably the only agreement my father and I have.

“Good morning, Robert,” my mother beams. I roll my eyes in response and shove a portion of her world-famous pancakes into my mouth.

“Mom, I told you I hate the name Robert,” I groan, “I told you to refer to me as Rob. Robert sounds boring, but Rob is mysterious.” She laughs heartily and dishevels my raven hair between her long fingers.

“Princess,” a voice whines from the other room, “I need help!” My father is helpless without my mother. He exits the room with his fingers tangled in the fabric of his tie. After slipping his tie on properly, my father rewards her with a brief embrace on the lips. “By the way, son, the name Robert belonged to your grandpa,” he says, “whether it is boring or not, you own it with pride.” I shove my plate away annoyed. My father is annoying, I mean, with his job as a police officer, he lives by the rules. Well, not necessarily, my mother told me he had a bad history, but I hardly hear about it. I sigh heavily annoyed with the sound of my father.

“I am going to be late,” I hiss. “I will see you tonight. Uncle Louis is going to give me a lesson in sports today. I may be late, but give him a call if you worry.” My Uncle Louis is a world-renowned athlete, and with his vacation, he offered to give me a lesson since my father cannot handle a ball to save his life.

When I enter the room, the students drill their stares into me because they are curious. They all are curious. You see, I was suspended for a few days for “vandalizing property.” In my defense, I was enhancing the school, per say. Oh well, I stride to my seat and pull out my journal, not preparing to give a shit today, but giving the impression I do.

“I am glad for you to join us, Robert,” Ms. Aleman declares sternly. Aleman is the oldest person in the school, and to be honest, I would not complain if she retired. I mean, she was always on my case about random shit. Even worse, her and my parents get along well enough to boss me around together. My father basically worships the ground she steps on. He said some shit about Aleman being the mother he never had. Gag me. I never understood why they loved her. Aleman is a trip. “By the way, Robert, see me after class.” The entire room fills with playful hisses, and I roll my eyes annoyed.

The girl in the front of the class turns around and bores her rounded emerald eyes into mine. A long river of brown curls stream down her spine, and when she offers me a half-smile, I spy a hint of dimples. I ignore her and tap my pencil on my table ready to leave to go home. I hate school, and I hate the people in it. When the bell rings, I wait for all of the students to leave, but the girl with the beautiful green eyes stays behind, too. Unhurriedly, she returns her belongings to her purse and remains silent as I wait for Aleman to speak.

“Robert, as you may know, you missed a lot of work,” Aleman notes. “Your father gave me a ring and told me to hire you a tutor.”

She had to be kidding. Who in their right minds would agree to tutor me? “In my defense,” I argue, “I learn better on my own. I don’t need a damned tutor.” Aleman lays her hands on her hips angrily and shifts her feet.

“Well, you may not need a tutor, but you definitely need soap for the horrible tongue you have,” she counters, “I will be sure to let your father know. She hands me a sheet of paper and crosses her arms. “This is your study guide. You will meet with your tutor on Tuesdays in the library during study hall, do you hear me?”

I roll the study guide in my hand and sigh heavily. “Aleman, I have business to attend to,” I huff. “Can we wrap this up?”

“Sure,” she feigns a smile, “but give her any of your shenanigans, and your father will hear about it. Robert, meet your tutor.”

Suddenly, the girl with the beautiful brown hair turns around, and I swear I drown in the intensity of her eyes. She offers me a hand, and I see her fingers are neatly painted red the way I love it on a girl.

“Hi,” she smiles, “my name is Darcy Styles, and I am your tutor.” She leans into my ear, and the fragrance of her perfume swims under my nose. Damn, she smells good. “Give me any of your shit,” she whispers her voice hardly audible for Aleman to hear, “and you will definitely regret it.”

Oh, hell. Something tells me we are going to be the perfect match.

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