Find A Way Ch. 1

One.

I stared out my bedroom window at Connor. He was sitting at the computer desk in his room, looking down at a book on his lap. A pencil in his right hand tapped back and forth in between his fingers and his left hand held his chin. He seemed stressed. He had been sitting there for a while now, staring at the same page, fidgeting like a hyper active third grader who forgot to take his Ritalin. I turned to look at the clock. It was quarter to eight at night and he hadn't turned a page in over thirty minutes. I knew he wasn't really paying attention.

I opened my window and felt the chill of the cold January air blow into my room. I shivered as I leaned myself out a bit, wrapping my arms around myself and kneeling on the pillow I always kept there for occasions like this.

"Connor?" I called.

He lifted his head, but didn't turn to look at me. I knew why he was reluctant to face me, but I was hoping he had forgotten. I waited a bit longer. He still didn't turn around.

"Connor," I called louder with an apologetic tone.

I saw his shoulders move up and then down again, and knew he had just let out a giant sigh. He had been avoiding me all day, which made it very difficult in our tutoring session this afternoon. I sat there in the study room staring at him with his eyes glued to the math book, never once daring to look up to meet my face. It was awkward. The first time any of our sessions had been awkward.

Connor Davis was a math whiz and I, however, couldn't differentiate between a three and an eight, thanks to my dyscalculia. I've always had a hard time with math -- until Connor came along. I truly loved having him as my tutor, and not just because he was nice to look at.

At first, I was happy I had an excuse to talk to him, even if he never taught me anything, but all that changed after our first meeting.  Out of all the teachers and tutors I have had over the past ten years, Connor was the only one who was patient enough to truly help me understand. No one understood how it was even possible, but he helped me see the numbers. Never once had he gotten frustrated, irritated, or just plain angry with me like everyone else. Thanks to him my grade in math went from a D average to a B.

It wasn't something I expected from him either. He was popular. He was a jock. He didn't need to be smart. I guess he was just lucky enough to have it all.

The most shocking thing about him is that his personality isn't typical of someone in his clique. He's sweet, kind and considerate. He never made fun of any kid in our school, and wouldn't dream of bullying anyone either. His friends knew never to pull any of that shit in front of him either. He didn't have a problem kicking their ass and they knew it.

I continued to stare at him sadly as he continued to ignore my existence. I figured I'd try one more time.

"Conner... please? Can't we just talk about this?" I practically begged. I did have my math midterm tomorrow and his ignorance was really making me nervous. He lifted his book off his lap and slammed it down onto his desk. He stood up, walked towards his window and lifted it open.

"What?" he said quietly, without meeting my eyes.

The irritation I felt was growing. I sighed. "I understand that you're upset, but I told you it's okay. You don't have to ignore me."

His lips were pursed together, as his eyes averted mine. He remained silent.

"Connor, please. I really need your help. I can't figure this stuff out without you."

He shook his head. "Yes, you can," he said in a defeated tone.

I sighed and hung my head for a moment. I needed his help and he knew I did. I leaned myself further out my window. "Please..."

I knew he would be weak if I begged enough. One thing he hated was thinking he failed me in some way. Wondering if only he had spent just a little bit more time on the proof's, would I have gotten an A instead of an A-. The one thing that bothered me so much about him was his perfectionism. He had no idea how perfect he already was.

He glanced down for a moment before he sighed in defeat. "I'll be right over." He stood up and started to turn.

"Door's open, just come on up!" I called before he left his room, and I smiled happily.

I pushed myself to my feet and ran to my backpack. I got my math book out, along with my notebook and the study sheet Mr. Greene had given us to prepare for the test. I set everything on my bed hoping this setting wouldn't make Connor uncomfortable and want to leave. I brushed off the worry and put a pillow behind my back anyway. Leaning myself against it, fixing it multiple times before I was comfortable, I waited for a knock at my door.

I held my pencil readily in my hand and opened the book to the right page. The numbers liked to dance around for my eyes... Or maybe it was for my brain, I honestly have no idea, but either way, one of them got bored too easily and needed more entertainment.

A soft knock tapped against my door as it creaked open. Connor stuck his head inside and looked at me as if he needed permission to enter. I smiled at him and waved my hand for him to come sit. He sluggishly entered my room with his hands in his pockets. I could tell he was nervous.

"Thanks for coming," I told him appreciatively. He gave a small nod, but the look on his face told me he really didn't want to be here. I sighed with the slightest bit of annoyance.

"It's ok, Connor. Just come and sit down," I stressed.

He took a step closer to the bed and his face fell when he saw the study arrangements I made. He eyed my desk before finally placing himself at the opposite end near my feet, barely keeping himself on the corner.

I sighed and looked at him. "Is this really how it's gonna be from now on?" I whispered.

He didn't look at me. Instead he just shook his head and picked up my text book. "What part do you need help with?" he asked.

I handed him my study sheet. "The last two."

He took the sheet and examined it for a few seconds, then glanced back down to the text book. I scrutinized his expression and slowly I maneuvered myself up closer to him. He noticed my sudden movement, and backed away from me with a look of surprise in his eyes.

"What?" I asked offended.

He shook his head and went back to the book. I couldn't believe this, was he seriously scared of me?!

"Connor... " I said pleadingly. He lifted his head up from the book but didn't look at me. "Look, we're friends and I really don't want to lose what we had over --"

"I thought you needed my help, Skye? Why are we talking about this?" He interrupted. His tone was annoyed and embarrassed at the same time.

"Because I can see you're upset. You can't even look at me." I moved in closer, ignoring his resistance, and reached my hand to his face. "This isn't now it's supposed to be," I whispered. The terror in his eyes was impossible for me to ignore. His cheek rested in my palm as I took his hand in my other one. "Please, Connor. Can't you just forget about it? I'm not mad. I'm not hurt. I'm not gonna tell anybody... "

"You should," he murmured without thinking.

"No, I shouldn't. It's not your fault, I don't blame you," I reassured him. He was so stubborn sometimes, it drove me insane.

He eyed me this time and I could see the anger in them. "You should," he repeated sharply.

I slunk back a bit, removing my hand from his face. I looked at him concerned. "Look, I understand." Actually, I really didn't. "You wish it never happened... but I don't. I'm glad it happened... I ... wanted it too." Okay, I was totally lying about that last part. I was kind of talking out of my ass at that point, just trying to get him to stop beating himself up.

But I set him over the edge. He got up off of my bed and paced around my bedroom, trying to calm himself down. I stood up and walked next to him, but he raised his hands with his palms facing me, tell me to back off.

"How can you even say that?!" He cried, shocked. "It's not supposed to happen like that, Skye!"

I rolled my eyes. "I thought I already explained to you that nothing actually happened... " I tried to tell him yet again, but he didn't believe me. "I can see the agony in your eyes, Connor. I know it's torturing you. You shouldn't let it. It's really not that big of a deal..."

Oops.

He picked up my math book and threw it against the wall. Good thing my parents were out to dinner.

"Skye, you don't understand anything!" he shouted. "There is something wrong with me! Something royally fucked up that I can't control and I don't know what it is! I don't wanna be like this!"

My instincts were screaming at me to comfort him. To wrap my arms around him tightly and hold him as long as he needed me too, but I knew that would just piss him off even more. He continued to pace around my room with his hands on top of his head entwining his fingers in his hair as if he wanted to rip it out.

"Connor..." I whispered, "It's really ok..."

But he interrupted me. "No! Skyelar, it's not ok! You're only fifteen! I shouldn't even think about you like that, it's not right... it's not normal! I'm a senior -- an eighteen year old senior! You're a freshman! I could go to jail for what I did! I should go to jail for it... "

"No! Connor, stop it!" I begged as I looked at him warily. "And I'm only a freshman because I got held back a year. You know I'm supposed to be a sophomore," I said in a low voice as I blushed an embarrassing shade of pink. It pissed me off to no end knowing they held me back in the 3rd grade because of the disability that no one was able to diagnose until middle school. "And you just turned eighteen..."

I don't think he was listening to what I was saying at that point because he just looked at me with tears swelling up in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Skye... I never meant to hurt you..."

I couldn't help myself anymore. I ran to him with my arms wide open, wrapping them tightly around his waist. I held him for a long time with his arms still at his side, afraid to hold me back. Afraid of himself more than anything.

"You didn't hurt me." I lied.

"Stop," he started. "Stop trying to protect me. You're the one who needs protecting, not me."

"I don't need any protecting. I only need you to promise me you won't ruin your entire future over one night of... whatever it was... " It was hard for me at that point because I honestly had absolutely no idea what it was.

The tears were spilling over his face now and he rested his head on my shoulder. Reluctantly, he reached his arms around me and placed them lightly on my back.

"Do you not see how messed up this is?" He asked in a low voice. "You comforting me?"

I let out a low chuckle. "No, I do... But like I said, I'm not mad at you. And I'm not afraid of you either. I know you never meant to hurt me... whoever that was, it wasn't you," I said.

He didn't respond to that. He let out a low sigh and pushed himself to meet my gaze. "I'm afraid," he said in a whisper. "What if it happens again? What if I can't control myself?"

The idea made my heart flutter and my insides turn. It was a possibility. He over powered me once and could very easily do it again. But I needed a math tutor... and I needed him. And as much as he scared me that night, I could never hate him. I could never blame him for anything. The secret crush I had on him wasn't really a secret anymore with the way I inadvertently flirted with him.  Most of his friends thought it was adorable, a freshman crushing on her senior math tutor. 

Unfortunately, that crush had grown into something a lot more.

I looked into his eyes, which were filled with torment. I didn't know what to say to him. I didn't want it to happen again, not like that at least. I wanted it to be something we both wanted and something I was actually ready for.

"I honestly don't know." I shook my head and looked at the floor. He sensed the tension. He pushed himself away from me.

"I don't ever want to hurt you, Skye. I care about you... a lot." I looked back into his eyes and could see he was being honest.

"I know you do. I care about you too."

He looked at me for a second then looked away. He sat back down on my bed and rested his head in his hands. "This is so fucked up," he whispered. "It's all just ... wrong."

I went to his side and placed my arm around his shoulders. "It's not wrong, Conner. You can't control who you love, you just do... unconditionally." I added firmly at the end. As much as I hoped that would help, it didn't.

He turned to face me, his eyes filled with rage. "It's wrong to love a child..."

My head snapped up as I glared at him angrily. "I am not a child!" My eye brows furrowed as I continued to glare at him. Is that what he thought? I sat there for a moment, dumbstruck by the way his mind worked. We weren't even three years apart! I may have been younger than him, but I certainly was not a child! Why on earth...

And like a hard punch to the gut, everything clicked in my head.

It all made sense now. I figured me being a freshman was part of the reason, I just didn't realize how much. My face relaxed as I turned to him.

"Connor... you're not your father..." I whispered this slowly, afraid it might set him off. But his face sunk into his lap again and he wept uncontrollably into his hands.

This is what he was so afraid of. This was his problem all along. He was afraid he was becoming his father. The horrible, disgusting, pedophile who was locked away in a jail cell for the next fifteen years for molesting his own daughter. Connor said he never touched him and it was only Sabrina he wanted. A part of me had always wondered if he was telling me the truth, and after his reaction about what happened with us, I'm starting to think he was lying.

I let him cry as long as he needed too. He laid himself down on my bed and curled up in the fetal position, cuddling one of my pillows. I laid next to him and wrapped my arm around his waist. I wondered how long it would take for him to snap out of it. How long he would feel so disgusted with himself, so ashamed of who he thought he was turning into. How long it would be before I could convince him otherwise.

I turned to the clock on my night stand. Eight thirty seven. My parents would be home soon, but I didn't care. I knew I should tell them the truth, but the possibility of him being banned from ever seeing me again was far to great. I couldn't lose my math tutor... I couldn't lose my best friend.

After a long while, I heard a car door slam shut, followed by another, and I knew they were home. I looked over at Connor, who was now sound asleep on my favorite pillow. How was I going to explain this? I felt bad about lying to my parents, but knowing Connor's history, they always believed me. They felt sorry for him, for what his father did to his sister, for winding up in jail, for leaving his family in an enormous amount of debt. Connor's mother worked so hard to keep her family together after he was gone and she still struggled on a daily basis with Sabrina. I could tell them his mother had to take Sabrina to another doctor and Connor didn't want to be alone. That excuse always worked... and most of the time it wasn't an excuse.

I got up and opened my bedroom door. My parents were turning at the corner of the stairs towards their room.

"Hey guys, how was dinner?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Fine, how's studying going?" My mother asked me.

I smiled. "Oh, it's going..." I paused for a brief moment. "Um... Connor's here," I stated plainly.

My father looked at me questioningly.

"His mother had to take Sabrina to new doctor. I guess she had another break down tonight or something ... but, he kinda fell asleep on my bed when we were studying, so I just wanted to let you know."

My father looked at my mother as she sighed heavily. She walked up the two more steps towards my room and peeked in. She looked at Connor sadly.

"Poor boy..." She whispered. She shook her head and turned to leave the room.

My dad eyed me suggestively. "Keep this door open."

I smiled and nodded at him. "Okay."

One of the things about my house was that it was very small. Ever since we moved here five years ago, I hated how small it was. Trying to have a party or any kind of company here was completely out of the question. There were only two bedrooms, one bathroom, a basement that floods and a tiny attic where you can't stand up straight without smacking your head on the ceiling. So the fact that I was allowed to sleep in the same room with Connor wasn't because my parents approved, it was because of the lack of room for me to sleep anywhere else. Our dog, Guster, took up the entire sofa in the living room and I wasn't about to inhale dog breath all night.

It was nights like these when I appreciated our tiny shack.

I went back in my room and closed the door until there was only an inch of space to peek through. My parents trusted me enough so I knew they wouldn't come back to check on us in the middle of the night, but I still needed to appease my fathers wishes. So, I kept the door slightly open. The fact that I confessed a boy was in my bedroom at all was something no other teenager would do. And they knew it.

The clock now read ten twenty two. My eyes were feeling heavy, so I got undressed and put my pajamas on. I sat down on the opposite side of Connor and set my alarm for six, hoping that would give us some extra time in the morning to finish studying. I turned off the light and pulled the covers on top of me.

It was dark in my room, but the street lights outside made it bright enough for me to watch him. He must have turned himself in his sleep because his body was now facing mine. He looked peaceful, although I knew he probably wasn't. He must have been exhausted. Whether it was from crying, lack of sleep, stress from midterms or all of the above, I couldn't tell. But he slept soundly for hours next to me. And I watched him breathlessly, wishing every moment that he would wake up, and everything would be okay again.



(More can be found at my livejournal ... grand_awakening.livejournal.com)