The Tutors

Chapter 11: Look who's got swag now

*Sam's P.O.V.**


"He's late." I pouted to myself, aloud. I had never pictured Terry as the 'late' type. Although he seemed to be taking a lifetime as I stood in my driveway, with a three hundred pound math book.

Yes, although Michael is a complete ass, I still must find the time to help him with his math. After all, none of my students had ever failed before. I wasn't about the let him ruin everything.

Michael pulled into my driveway, trying to look casual. I was a little surprised, but I was mostly disappointed. Terry was beginning to become a really good friend. (And not just because we played tonsil hockey. 'Cause trust me, there were no sparks.) He was really sweet, and unlike Michael, he actually had tact. He was aware that I had feelings.

"Michael." I whispered as a cold greeting. The casual act faltered a bit, but he smiled at me like he was happy to see me. "Hey Sam, sorry I was so late. I know Terry was going to pick you up but I wanted to take you." He said sincerely, brushing his fingers through his hair.

I opened and slammed my car door shut, Michael giving a wince. I wondered if he was going to say anything abut me abusing his 'poor baby', but he just pulled out of the driveway and started driving. But the weird thing was, he was driving the speed limit. He wasn't even going a mile faster than fifty-five. And that was when I realized something was wrong with him.

"Michael, what's with you?" I growled, my concern coming off as annoyance. He threw me a quick glance and then focused back on the road. His fingers visibly tightened around the steering wheel.

"Nothing, why would you say there's something wrong?" I could have imagined it, but it seemed like he started to sweat. I pointed at the speedometer and said, "Aha! You're driving like me! You hate how I drive!"

"I thought you would like going slow." He mumbled. I crossed my arms and stared out the window.

"Why would you care about what I want?" I bit my lip. I knew I was going to cry.

He's such a jerk.

He started pulling over to the side of the road, cars honking in rushed annoyance. My face puckered into a grimace.

"Why are we stopping?" I asked, not bothering to face him while I asked. He didn't answer me, and instead pulled the car into park. I stared at him, and for a while we just stared at each other. It seemed like a minute, but at the same time it seemed like ten years. All time was null and void.

"You're mad at me." He said plainly, averting his eyes. I knew he didn't know for sure but that was his assumption.

"Yes." I retorted, not bothering to mingle words.

He was going to figure out eventually that I was pissed, so why not now?

"Why?" He asked, looking into his lap. I knew I was going to explode, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Because I'm just a charity case! Because I'm a nobody, and I'm an embarrassment to you!" I screamed, tears streaking down my face. I reached for the door, to get out. But he was faster, pressing the lock button. He grabbed my arm to turn me around,

"Please let me explain!" He said fiercely. I shook his hand off, and pulled the door handle again, hoping it would magically open. I didn't care that we were on a long stretch of highway in the middle of nowhere. I had to get back to my house, where I was safe, and nobody hurt my feelings, because there was nobody there to try.

"I'm not letting you leave on your own to walk to your house so you might as well listen." He whispered through my sobs. I nodded, the heat from my rage dying down. All I wanted to do was go to sleep and wake up to what was normal.