Find A Way Ch. 4

Four.


I spent the remainder of the week alone in my room. Every morning I would wake for my midterm, get ready and pause before glancing out my window, only to see his shut and the curtains closed. He probably thought this made things easier on me, not being tempted to talk to him, but it really only made me wonder more. At least if I could see him, I'd know he was alive.


I still remember the first time we chatted from these windows. It was the day of my first tutoring session with him back in September. Connor had lived next door to me as long as I'd lived in this house, but we never really spoke. The only other time I had ever seen him outside of school was over a year ago when we watched in awe as the police escorted his father away in hand cuffs, and Sabrina away in an ambulance.


I'd come home from school absolutely giddy that all my friends were so jealous about him being my tutor. I set my back pack on my desk and pulled out all my books, fully prepared for the long night of homework ahead of me. Normally, I would have done every other subject first and avoided math like the plague, but this time was different. It was the first time I ever felt confident enough that I could do my math within an hour and actually understand it. I remember sitting for about twenty minutes when I heard a commotion from outside. I turned my head toward my window and saw Connor standing in his room. My mouth gaped wide open as I watched him pull his dirty t-shirt off his back and toss it onto his floor. I didn't mean to stare so obviously, but holy shit was he ripped.


It wasn't the first time I'd noticed him, but it was the first time he noticed me. My face fell in utter embarrassment when he finally realized I was sitting on the edge of my chair, practically falling out of it, drooling over him like a moron. It surprised me that he even looked out his window because any other time I watched him in his room, he remained completely oblivious. And I don't mean "watched him" in the creepy stalker, U2 song sort of way, just that I've noticed him before and I'm really glad he didn't notice me...


Fuck my life if he had.


I straightened my pose as quick as I could, hoping he didn't see me ogling him -- and being as nice as he was, he didn't say anything if he did. Instead, he smiled widely and approached his open window.


"Hey," he said to me casually.


"Hi," I replied so low I was afraid he didn't hear me.


"I didn't know you lived next door," he confessed idly.


I smiled but couldn't suppress my eye roll. Of course you didn't. You didn't even know I existed until an hour ago. "I've lived here for about five years now," I told him honestly.


He nodded his head and knelt down at his window sill. I stood up from my chair and moved to my window doing the same.


"You do your math yet?" he asked.


"I just started it, actually."


"How's it going so far?"


"Surprisingly, not bad," I told him happily.


He smiled back at me and nodded. "Good." We chatted for a few more minutes, mostly just about my math. He asked me how I felt the tutor session went today and I told him honestly -- it was by far the best tutoring session I'd ever had. "Well, if you ever need help with it and you see me in here, just holler over. I'll come help."


My face was a little too obvious that my happiness level just went from eight to eleven in a split second. Off the fucking charts. "Okay," I replied as calmly as possible. "Thank you again, Connor. You really don't know how helpful you've been, even just today."


His smile widened, surprising that it even could. "No problem, Skyelar. I'll see you at school tomorrow."


I nodded excitedly, "See ya," I replied as I watched him close his window half way and draw its curtains closed. My insecurity level rose slightly as I realized he probably did it so I couldn't see him anymore and invade his privacy. It made sense, but I still hated how obvious I was.


After my last midterm of the year, I breathed out a relieving sigh as I made my way back home. I hadn't seen Connor at school all week but that could very easily mean that his exams were at different times than mine were. Either that or he wasn't taking them... and I had a feeling it was the latter.


As I walked past his house, I found myself slowing down, feeling the desperate urge to knock at his door, but I knew I couldn't. He asked me to give him space and that was exactly what I planned to do. I quickened my pace and made my way inside my tiny house before I lost all self control.


I ran up to my bedroom and slammed the door. I fell onto my bed as I watched my curtain covered window, fighting so hard not to get up and push them open, because I knew his would be closed too. I made sure both of them were before I left for my exam this morning, thinking maybe if both of our windows were shut, I'd forget about the possibility. But instead of being easier, it only made my insides twitch in nervousness. I felt the dark blue drapes mocking me as I stared at them irritatedly.


This had been the longest I had gone without speaking to him since our first tutoring session. We would talk every day, even at school. It surprised me the first day he approached me with a group of his friends -- all jocks and popular kids, which I was definitely not one of -- to ask me how I did on my first math test with him as my tutor. I smiled widely at him, both happy about my grade and that he wasn't embarrassed to be seen talking to me in front of people. I pulled the paper out from my back pack and handed it to him. His lips curled up into a triumphant smile.


"Yes!" he exclaimed proudly. "A-!" he shouted. His friends all rolled their eyes at him as he handed me back the test paper. "We'll go over the ones you got wrong in our session later, okay?"


I nodded my head and smiled almost embarrassed. I was proud of my grade in math, but I had a feeling he was more proud of himself being able to teach me than of me getting such a good grade. He gave me one of those weird nods guys give to their friends as he continued walking to class with his clique. Bianca Lewis gave me the evil eye as she walked past me, with her so called boyfriend's arm draped across her shoulder. My face furrowed in confusion as I made my way to AP English.


After that day I wasn't afraid to smile and wave to him in the halls if he happen to notice me, and I always knew he did because I saw him smile widely at me almost every day as he'd walk past. It gave me a small tinge of hope that he didn't only consider himself my math tutor... and maybe, just maybe, he wanted to be my friend too.


It wasn't until late October that I had even considered the fact that he could like me. I was in the locker room changing from my sweaty gym clothes after a game of basketball when I over heard Bianca Lewis talking to her best friend and fellow senior Tiffany Cohen. It was strange how certain classes weren't divided by grade, like PE and study hall. It was just put whenever it would fit into your schedule. Most of Connor's friends just happened to be in my gym class, minus Connor of course. I never spoke to any of them but I knew who they all were, and vice-versa. My locker was on the opposite side of Bianca's and I stood there absentmindedly, pulling my long brown hair out of the pony tail, and changing back into my street clothes.


"Can you believe he fucking said that to me? Prick..." she started. At this point I had no idea who she was talking about, so I tried blocking out her annoying high pitched squeal of a voice.


"Yeah, seriously. Greg's an asshole anyway, I don't know why you're with him," Tiffany replied.


I heard a loud sigh come from Bianca. "Well you know the only reason I started dating him was to get closer to Connor, but we all know he's a fucking lost cause..."


My heart stopped at the mention of his name. It was honestly the first time I'd ever heard any of them talk about him so I couldn't help myself.


"Connor's so... weird. I don't know what's wrong with him," Tiffany said.


"Weird or not, he's fucking gorgeous and I've been throwing myself at him for the past year. He's either really stupid or... not interested," she said with disappointment in her voice.


"Well, he does think you're with Greg. Maybe if you broke up with him, he'd finally notice you," Tiffany suggested.


"I fucking doubt it. First, it's like a guy code or something. 'Don't fuck your best friends ex,' and we all know Connor is such a fucking goody-goody, he'd never go behind his friends back. Second, if he hasn't noticed me so far, I'm sure ending it with Greg wouldn't get him to."


"So why do you keep trying then?" Tiffany asked annoyed.


I didn't hear Bianca respond to her statement, but I did hear a small apology come from Tiffany that was barely audible. It was silent for a few moments longer and just as I was about to finish getting dressed, I heard Tiffany's voice again.


"It's kinda weird though, you know? The way he always talks about that girl he tutors... you don't think there's something up with them, do you?"


My heart stopped dead in my chest.


"Maybe the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree after all," Bianca said with disgust in her voice. "That girl he tutors is like twelve. She's a fucking freshman for Christ sake! Why would he like her?"


"You really think he does?" Tiffany asked incredulously.


My heart sank to my toes, my stomach panged in nervousness and my breathing ceased causing my head to spin uncontrollably.


"Who the fuck knows? He'd never admit it if he did anyway," she answered he friend nastily and I was able to breathe again.


"He talks about her a lot, though. He acts like she's so goddamn special."


"Yeah, special as in 'stop eating the paste' special," Bianca replied in a foul voice. "Fucking moron can't even do basic math."


I tried as hard as I could to suppress the tears I felt flowing into my eyes and she talked so vulgar about me.


"I heard she's a really good writer though. Connor told me about one of her papers."


"Oh, who the fuck cares, Tiffany?! I don't wanna talk about her anymore. Let's get out of here, I need a cigarette."


I didn't hear either of them speak again, only shuffle around their backpacks and stalk out of the locker room. I hadn't realized I had fallen onto the bench beside me holding onto my shirt so tight, my knuckles were white. I snapped myself out of it and finished dressing quickly before I was late to my next class.


The remainder of that day was hard for me. I couldn't stop thinking about what Bianca had said about me, both the good and the bad. It hurt my feelings when she had called me a 'fucking moron', but the thought that Connor could possibly like me made my stomach pang. The fact that he talked about me to his friends was completely ridiculous, and it made me far too excited for my tutoring session with him that afternoon.


At 2:45, I walked into the tutor center and saw him waiting for me at our usual table by the window. I smiled and gripped my math book a bit tighter as I walked toward him. He saw me as I approached the table and smiled his brilliantly white teeth at me. I shuddered as the goosebumps ran over my skin.


I sat down quickly trying to hide them and placed my book in front of me. He slid it over to him and opened to the chapter we had been working on for the previous few weeks. I listened to him intently for the hour, making sure to take in every word he said and making it stick. He was the first person who ever helped me understand any of this, and I think a big part of it was that he never got upset with me.


"Don't stress about it, Skye. It's no big deal. Just think, as soon as school's over, you'll never have to do any of this crap again," he would always tell me. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at that because I was pretty sure I'd have to do math for the rest of my life, with college, balancing my check book, doing taxes, etc. But still it amazed me that he had faith in me -- faith that I severely lacked.


I didn't notice anything different about him in our session. He acted as he always did, concentrating on the lesson and making sure I had it right. And every time I'd finally get it, his lips grew into a wide, triumphant smile.


That night as I sat in my room, working on the rest of my math homework, I saw out of the corner of my eye Connor's light switch on in his room. Staring angrily at my paper, I was frustrated beyond belief from working in the same problem for twenty minutes. Every time I looked at it, the numbers were changing and I couldn't tell if it said 56 or 65 anymore. I sighed in defeat as I walked over to my window. This was the first time I was going to take Connor up on his offer.


I knelt down at the sill and saw him sitting on his bed watching some cartoon on his television. My stomach twitched in nervousness for a minute before I had the nerve to call out his name.


"Connor?" I said so quiet he didn't hear me. I took a deep breath and forced myself to say it louder. I knew he heard me this time because he lifted the remote to mute his show and he turned to look at me with a confused smile.


"Hey," he called eying me curiously. "What's up?"


I smiled at him awkwardly before I spoke. "I'm sorry to bother you. Um... I was actually wondering if you could help me with my math homework?" I asked quietly.


He smiled at me kindly, "Yeah, sure. Do you want me to come over?"


I nodded my head eagerly. "Please."


"I'll be right there," he said and I watched him turn to leave his room. My heart fluttered violently as I realized Connor Davis was on his way over to my tiny, cluttered shack. I suppressed the urge to scream No, wait! Never mind!, and grabbed my math book to bring it down stairs.


As soon as I reached the bottom step, I heard a knock at my door. I flung it open a little too eagerly as I smiled at him with pink cheeks.


"Come on in," I said. He walked inside and looked around the hall way curiously. I closed the door and paused before realizing there was no space down here for us to work. Our kitchen table was covered with papers, old mail, and my parents work documents. I looked at him reluctantly, "Um.. I'm sorry, there isn't really anywhere for us to work down here." My face turned pink and I pointed up the stairs. His face fell serious and he opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it, and nodded his head. He shoved his hand in his pants pockets as I led the way up our narrow stair case into my room.


I looked around nervously as if I'd never been in my own room before, but soon realized it was only because I'd never had a boy in my room before, even if it was only to help with my math.


I lead him to my desk and sat down in my chair, setting my book down with me. He knelt down beside me, "Which one do you need help with?"


I pushed my homework sheet over to him and opened my text book to the right page. He looked at it for a minute as I stared at his face. I hadn't realized his blue eyes had a slight gray tint in them. The light that illuminated my desk lit up his eyes so brightly, I had to stop myself from staring too long before he noticed. I glanced back down to my book.


He pointed to my paper, "You're just switching the numbers again."


I sighed frustrated with myself, "I know. Every time I look at it, the numbers are different," I admitted sheepishly.


He smiled at me understandingly. "It's okay. I'll help you."


He read me the numbers out loud, making sure I had it right as I finished the problem in literally thirty seconds. My face flushed in embarrassment when I realized how simple it really was. He watched my face and smiled. "Ya know, I think you just worry too much. You know how to do this stuff... It's just your brain, or your eyes or something, don't see the numbers clearly."


I blushed even redder. "You're the first person who actually believes I can do this," I said quietly. "All my other tutors just thought I was stupid..."


His face fell and he shook his head, "You're not stupid. Not even close," he mumbled as he stood himself up. He walked over to my bed and sat down on the corner. He looked around my room nonchalantly but soon realized I was watching him. I'm not sure what my expression was but his face fell almost embarrassed. "Is it okay if I sit here?" he asked.


I smiled and nodded. "Yeah, it's fine. You can sit where ever you want." I sat in my desk chair quietly for a moment. I wasn't sure what exactly to say at that point, now that all my homework was finished. He looked around my room again and noticed my incredibly over full book shelf.


"Well, aren't we hooked on phonics," he joked. He stood up and walked over to it, glancing through my collection. I watched him nervously as he slid his fingers over my Harry Potter books and gave me a wry glance.


"What?" I asked.


"Nothing... I've never read them." he admitted. "Are they any good?"


I nodded, "Very, but only if you're into that stuff." He nodded casually and continued grazing my book shelf. "Do you read much?" I asked him curiously.


He shook his head, "No, I've never been one for English. Math was always my best subject."


"I guess I'm the opposite."


"I see that," he said with a smile. "I remember the English paper you showed me."


Right. The non-fiction short story assignment I had for AP English. The one I got an A+ on with an entire page of Mrs. Cook's notes on the back praising me for my 'writing skills' and 'excellent use of grammar'. The one he told Tiffany Cohen about.


I nodded my head and looked down to my feet, wondering if I should bring up the topic of what happened in the gym locker earlier. I heard him approach me and I looked up to meet his face. His eyed me curiously as he knelt down in front of me. "What?" he asked quietly.


I paused for a moment before letting out a defeated sigh and confessing. "I over heard Bianca and Tiffany talking in the locker room after gym today... She mentioned my paper..." It felt awkward telling him about what they had said, and I wasn't sure if it was for him too.


"Who did?" he asked. I furrowed my eyebrows confused. "Who mentioned it? Tiffany?" I nodded. "Figures. I doubt Bianca even listens to me when I talk," he said. He stood up and went back to my bed, sitting on the same corner as before, and gave me an apologetic look, "I'm sorry I told them about your paper. I didn't think it was a secret."


I shook my head, "No! No, it wasn't," I said reassuringly. "I was just surprised, that's all."


He quirked an eyebrow at me, "Why?"


I shrugged and stared down at my hands that were placed firmly in my lap, "I don't know," I started almost inaudible, "Just surprised that you talk to your friends about me, I guess."


He snorted, "Why wouldn't I? You're my friend too."


My heart stopped dead in my chest and I forced myself not to gasp. Instead, my way too obvious face lit up like a goddamn Christmas tree and my lips grew into an uncontrollable goofy grin. I shot him a quick glance and nodded my head, afraid if I opened my mouth a loud, high pitch squeal of excitement would erupt from it.


God, I was such a fucking school girl.


From the corner of my eye, I saw him smile and roll his eyes at me. He leaned himself forward so he was resting his elbows on his legs, and clasped his hands together. "So what else did they say?"


My face fell automatically. I didn't really want to tell him, but at the same time, I wasn't sure that I couldn't now. He saw the look on my face and eyed me significantly. I sat myself up in my seat, giving him the most believable smile I could muster up. "Nothing," I said as I shook my head.


He rolled his eyes and eyed me once again with the same expression, "Tell me." His tone was flat and serious now.


But I shook my head again and looked away from his gaze, "It was nothing, I promise." Seriously, learn when to drop it.


He sighed and looked down to his feet. "If they said something that hurt your feelings, I'm sorry." I cringed and stared back at my hands again. Was I really that obvious? "Unless..." He started quietly as I popped my head back to look at him questioningly. "It wasn't about you..." He slowly lifted his head to meet my gaze and my face fell in confusion.


I shook my head, "No," I said in a tone that almost sounded more like a question. "Who else would they say anything about? I'm the 'fucking moron who can't even do basic math'." Shit. That slipped. I closed my eyes hard and dropped my head.


"What?!" he asked me incredulously.


I sighed, shaking my head, "Nothing, I'm sorry. That slipped..."


"Why are you apologizing? Did they really say that about you?"


I paused momentarily before slowly nodding my head. "Bianca," I whispered.


His head fell into his hands and he ran his fingers through his hair hard, griping onto it tightly. He glanced back up to me, looking apologetic again, "I'm sorry, Skyelar. She's a bitch. Seriously, don't listen to her." I gave him a small smile in appreciation and looked back down at my hands. I heard him shift around on my bed slightly and let out a long sigh. "Your parents aren't home by now?" He asked suddenly, I think trying to change the conversation to a lighter subject. I looked up at him and saw he was eyeing the alarm clock on my night stand that said seven-thirty-seven.


"No, the store closes at nine on week nights. They usually don't get home till after ten."


He nodded and looked back to me, "You spend a lot of your nights alone, huh?"


I shrugged, "I guess. I don't really mind. I like the quiet and the freedom. Sometimes if I don't have a lot of homework, I'll go help out at the store... but I tend to do more shopping than actual helping," I explained as I pointed to my book shelf.


He chuckled and nodded. "Your parent's own 'Mackenzie's Books' over on Monroe Ave, right?"


I smiled and nodded. "Have you been there?"


He hung his head apologetically, "No, sorry. I've heard of it though." He was quiet for a moment with an inquisitive look on his face. I eyed him curiously, wondering what he was thinking. "My mom works late too," he stated suddenly as if he were unsure of himself. I couldn't figure out his expression until he glanced up to meet my gaze and looked almost nervous. My mind raced wondering what he could possibly be nervous about. He opened his mouth to speak again but bit his lip instead and dropped his head. I could feel the awkwardness lingering in the air above us. "Sometimes she'll pull a double shift so she'll be gone all night."


I nodded my head, glad he finally spoke again, but still wondering about his expression. "That must be hard," I offered comfortingly.


He shot me a forced smile and shrugged. "Sometimes..." he whispered.


"Do you know when she'll be home tonight?" I asked.


He shook his head. "I think she's gonna stay anyway. Sabrina's there again, so..."


I tried to keep a straight face and not drop my jaw in shock as he spoke of his sister for the first time ever. I merely nodded my head and turned to look out my window at Connor's house. It wasn't too much bigger than mine, but having to be in it all alone, all the time, would make it feel enormous. Knowing your sister was locked in a psych ward, being tied down and injected with god knows what kinds of drugs, while your mother had to stand there like the good nurse she was and watch her child suffer, all the while you're walking the halls of your quiet, empty, dark home alone, doing nothing but thinking and dwelling and contemplating...


And with that, my brain finally clicked in why Connor was being so evasive. He was alone. All the time. With his thoughts. I hadn't realized how different he was from me. I didn't mind being alone. I liked being able to think, and contemplate, and write. It allowed me my own personal space of freedom where I could basically do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted--not that I really did anything--but I liked it. I had a purpose for it. He didn't. He was living in a mind full of soiled memories with a broken family. He needed a distraction, something to take him out of his mind for a while and bring him back to the world around him. He needed to not be trapped inside his own head. He needed human interaction and physical contact. Because he was lonely.


I took a deep breath before gathering up the courage to ask, and smiled kindly at him, "Are you hungry?" His head shot up and he looked at me dubiously. "If you want, I could order a pizza or something. We could go downstairs and watch a movie, you know. Hang out or whatever." As much as I tried to sound nonchalant, I knew I didn't. Not only did I stutter twice, but my leg began involuntarily bouncing up and down in nervousness.


But thankfully, the universe loved me, because my suggestion made Connor's lips twitch into a wide smile and nod his head, "Yeah, sure. You sure your parents won't mind? Me being here with them... not?" He wondered anxiously.


I shrugged and shook my head. "Trust me, I don't think they'll care. Ever since I got an A on that math test, they've been bugging me to introduce you properly. They're very grateful for what you've done for me. Pizza is the least we can do," I promised him with a smile before I stood up and lead him down the stairs into the tiny, over cluttered living room.