Chapter Six- Home Alone
"Where are you going?"
I narrowed my eyes in confusion and disdain to my mother who was busy stuffing clothes to her suitcase with what seemed to be essentials that was enough for her to last a week.
She stops folding her clothes, then turns to look at me, a smile plastered on her lips. "I'm going on a short trip."
"Without me?" it wasn't a question; it was a statement.
She waves me off, then shifted her gaze back to her business, folding a black night gown and carefully placing it in her suitcase with slippers, zip locks and some underwear. "You'll be fine."
"Uhuh," I replied skeptical. "---and why didn't you tell me this in advance? Were you planning to keep it a secret until you left without waking me up?"
Mind I tell you, it was five o'clock in the morning. Five o' freaking clock----which seemed a feat to me. It's rare I woke up this early and being parched was enough to stir me awake to find my own mother planning her own trip without telling me.
She slightly jolts. Knew it. I inhaled a deep sigh, grumbling under my breath. "Thanks mom. So, if I suddenly die and the house gets trashed, you know who to blame."
"Oh Avery, stop being dramatic," she rolls her eyes. "---I'll be gone for only a week, not forever. Plus, you're a big girl now. You can manage."
"So I'm being dramatic now?" I sourly repeated her statement, folding my arms with a stern look. "---if I didn't even wake up this early, I would've woken up to find you just left."
"Look," she pats her suitcase, then sighs, looking at me in annoyance. "---me and the Becketts are going to have a small vacation. If you're scared to be all alone, then you can just ask Tom to stay here."
"What?!"
"You're seriously telling me to let a guy stay with me, in this house, all alone, for a week?" I say in bewilderment. I know that nothing is going to happen, but really? She doesn't mind? Isn't she crazy?
Where's the 'don't invite boys when I'm gone' statement?
She sees through my conflicted emotions and slightly smirks. "Well, I'm pretty sure Tom is rather a gentleman. It's you who I'm worried. What if you take advantage of poor, defenseless Tom?"
"Excuse me? You're painting me like I'm a hungry raging animal!" I screeched.
She guffaws, covering her mouth with her palm. "You're so fun to tease, daughter."
"Geez," I spat out in exasperation, my lips further deepen to a scowl. "---what a great mother you are."
"I'll be back before you know it," she reassures me, springing up from her bed—which made a soft creak as she zips her suitcase and hoisted it to the floor.
She pats her pants and then comes a few steps close to me, a small smile emerging her lips. "There's enough cash in the counter and if you miss me—"
She lifts her hands and pinches my cheeks which I scowl, yanking it off my face. "---don't hesitate to call."
"I will," I grumble under my breath, rubbing the spot where she pinched me.
"Can I at least get a kiss from my own daughter?" she cooed, leaning her face to mine.
My lips purse to a scowl, embarrassed about her proposition, but then again, I know she'll just nag and whine until I give in. I leaned forward and gave her a small peck in the cheeks. "Happy?"
"Well, see you next week Avery!" she chirps, going back to her suitcase and lifts the handle. "---have fun with Tom. And don't do anything naughty!"
"I won't! Geez!"
. . .
"Hey partner!"
He grins coyly, pulling a seat then dragged it in front of my desk. He takes a seat, leaning forward with his elbow propped to the desk. "Seems like this is fate, isn't it?"
"Ha, ha, funny," I bitterly grumbled under my breath, eyeing him nonchalantly.
Oskar doesn't even feel insulted—even when I'm clearly being pissed at him for no reason. Maybe it was because I dislike his annoying presence, or the fact my mother left me by myself. Either way a part of me is relaxed to find out I got Oskar and not some stranger I'd have to force pleasantries with.
"Any ideas on how to do the project?" he asks.
"Well I think a video would suffice," I reply.
Basically, our project was about documenting our lives and interests. From what we do on our free time, to how we interact with people around us and our own partners.
I wasn't too thrilled about the idea. Isn't this breaching privacy? Plus, will they even be interested to find my boring lifestyle—which consists of reading thriller books and sleeping 70% of the time.
"I guess that makes sense," he nods in agreement. "---so, when will we start?"
"The sooner the better."
"Man, can't believe I got you," he murmurs under his breath with a glint of joy to his eyes. "---thought I'd end up with some guy or a random girl I never knew existed."
"I feel personally attacked," I sourly smile.
"Why?"
"None of your business," I shrugged him off, leaning back onto my chair with hands over my head. "—so how are you going to document your life, Mr. Matthew? Any tricks for the ladies?"
He chuckles, the sides of his eyes forming wrinkles. "Well, I'm pretty sure girls dig guys who can at least sing and play the keytar, don't you think?"
I snort. "Maybe."
"Well, how about you Miss Summers? Gonna showcase your sorcery and dead bodies hidden at your room?" he teasingly joked, leaning his chin to his palm.
I smirked, leaning forward and flung my hand to his arm, pinching it oh so gently. He winches, then groans. "I was kidding."
I smile with malice, releasing my hold from his arm. "And I was being gentle."
He rubs the spot I pinched him, flashing me a wry smile. "Well, that's that. Whose place are we going to?"
"Yours?" I point at him.
He shakes his head, a bittersweet smile etched on his lips. He lightly—might I add, teasingly remarked. "You surely won't like hearing my parents screaming like they're doing metal."
My brow furrowed. "Then why did you even ask in the first place?"
"Cause I was being polite," he perks up.
"You're such a pain," I grumble, rubbing the flesh in between my eyes to at least soothe my growing headache. "Fine. Let's do it at my house."
"Your parents won't mind?"
"They're out so it's fine."
He raises a brow, being suggestive. "Oh, so you mean it's just the two of u---"
"If you dare try to pull something funny," I taunted. "---I will bash your head with my skull collection and hide your rotting body in my coffin."
"Yikes," he winced. "—I won't."
"Good."
. . .
Drat. I stare at the pouring rain with dim skies outside the window, a slight deep sigh escaped my lips. Great. The moment I left my umbrella is when this stupid rain "conveniently" decided to rain. It looks like it's not even going to stop with how harsh it pounds the second that ticks by.
If I wait, then it'll take me 'till late night and I still have to prepare dinner for myself. If I also run, then by the time I reached home, I'd be so wet I'd look like puddle.
I sigh again, weighing my options with no good result whatsoever.
"Class dismissed."
I begrudgingly stood up from my seat and greeted the teacher in front goodbye before grabbing my bag from under my table and sling it to my arm.
"It's raining really hard huh," a voice mutters from beside me.
I nod, darting a glare at the windows. "It sure is."
"You brought an umbrella?" Tom asks.
"No," I hissed. "—I swear I brought it every day, just not today. Curse this day."
He half-heartedly chuckles and I could feel his irritation with the rain outside by just his aura masked with that smile of his. "What do you say we do, Avery?"
I mused, propping a hand under my chin as I stare at my shoes which would be soaked wet the moment I step outside with puddles forming everywhere. "There's a convenience store minutes away. We could buy an umbrella there."
"Then, that's settled," he clasps his hand. "Let's go."
"What?"
"Let's go before it rains even harder," he eyed me. "—we'd be stuck here if we wait too long."
"You're going to get soaked wet," I point out.
"So you are you," he remarked. "---well, are you coming with me?"
Geez, what's with him? He's acting quite angst today. I shake my head, removing useless thoughts and I murmur. "Okay."
We silently walked outside the door of our classroom and out to the halls with students hanging by the lockers or just staying there because they either had no umbrella and would wait till the rain stops. It was crowded, hot and mixed with all sorts of perfume and odor.
I scrunched my nose, putting a hand on my nose as we kept passing through people with Tom walking a few steps ahead of me, his hair slightly frizzed.
After a couple of shoves and swerving through the crowd, we finally arrive in the front doors, the rain even louder and harsh than just minutes ago. The cold chilly wind caressed my knees and hands, making me slightly shiver. It's fricking cold.
"Tom what are yo----"
My sentence gets cut off when he puts his blazer on top of my head and I frown, grabbing it and pull it down. "What are you doing?"
He looks at me. "Put it over your head."
"Why?"
"To at least cover you up."
"And you?"
"I'll be fine," he flashes me a smile.
I look away, feeling my cheeks turn slightly pink. Geez, is he trying to act like some main protagonist in a romantic story? If he is, then damn it, he's doing a good job.
"Suit yourself," I murmur, burying half of my face to his blazer, trying to hide the defiant blush flaring my cheeks.
"Okay, let's just run," he responds. "—we'll be there before we know it."
"To---" he clasps on my hand with his warm hands and held it tighter, squeezing it.
Before I could mutter another thing, he started dashing towards the rain outside without looking back or even hesitating to. I heave, having a hard time trying to catch up with him as my hand gripped tightly on the blazer on top of my head and my other hand firmly grasping on his.
We stepped on a puddle, causing a ripple and our uniforms to be drenched wet but that was the least of our problems. As we kept running, the streets were starting to light up and everything seemed blurry with lights flashing before I could comprehend.
My eyes strained back to Tom whose haired gel up was now drooped and trickling droplets of rain dripped onto his now transparent shirt.
You're such a gentleman, alright.
. . .
By the time we were near to our houses, the rain gradually soften, minimized to a small pour. Tom pulls out his hand out from the umbrella, then retracts it.
I was now freezing with my knees barely trembling. I really want to be snuggled to something warm right now. A soup and a heater would suffice while I snuggle myself against the comforts of my blanket on the couch with tv blaring some paranormal show.
And before I knew it, we were finally in front of my porch. Weird. Never noticed. Tom stops and closes the umbrella, then peers at me from over his shoulder.
"Well, see you tomorrow," he breaks the silence, the droplet of rain trickling from his hair and onto our rug.
"I'll wash this," I motion to the blazer he lent and he nods.
"Well I gotta go," he flashes me a tired smile, then turns his heel against me.
Suddenly, my mind had other plans. My hand involuntarily clutches onto his arm. My eyes widened to my own surprise and he stops, then turns to look at me. "You need something Janna?"
"I-uh," I fumbled with my own words. What the hell was I thinking?
With my mind frantically trying to find a reason as to why I tried to stop him, my mouth speaks for me. "Come back later. I'll be uhm, cooking up some soup consider it as thanks for the blazer, and well..that's that."
He stares at me and my cheeks turned red, feeling humiliated. My heart was racing right now for so many reasons. One of that would be being alone with just him.
I removed my hand from his arm and look away, darting my gaze to our rug that really needs a wash right now. "Never mind. Sorry—"
"I'd love to."
"What?" My eyes flicker to him.
He smiles warmly at me, finally showing me that idiotic grin of his. "I said I'd love to. Better keep your promise, Avery."