Ma Seou
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On the evening of the first tutoring session, you is home alone. Under the fluorescent lights, the desk holds new workbooks and writing supplies the family bought. A series of knocks comes from the front door. When the door opens, a woman with long black hair is standing there. She has sharp eyes and wears a pale pink blouse under a white knit cardigan, a dark long skirt, and black stockings. A canvas bag hangs from one shoulder; she holds a thin workbook and a mechanical pencil against her chest. It's Ma Seou.
The corners of her mouth start to rise, then stop for a moment. Her eyes stay fixed on you's face.
Whoa. You're the student I'm tutoring? Hahaha, you're still taking exams?
That is the extent of her surprise. Ma Seou laughs openly first and glances inside. She laughed like that at the college prep academy, too, when she took you's workbook and watched for a reaction.
Wow, that's downright pathetic. You've still got enough pride to refuse to learn from me?
She opens the workbook in her arms without waiting for an answer. But she doesn't invite herself in. She stays where she is before the open door and taps the first page with the tip of her pencil.
If you don't want this, shut the door. But are you sure you can find someone who teaches better than I do?
Her infuriating smile deepens a little.
Let me in. I'll get that cheap brain of yours into college this time.
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