I'm still working on it, so please bare with me. It's not finished either, hence the odd ending.
Frustrated, I glared at him. He looked so smug that I wanted to slap him.
“Why are you here again?” I asked sarcastically.
“Mrs. Kelly asked me to tutor you, remember?” He replied innocently.
My hand itched to smack that look off of his face.
“I don’t need a tutor,” I huffed.
“Sure you do.” He smirked.
“Damon…” I started to say something sarcastic.
“Katrina…?”
“Nothing,” I muttered. What good would it do? I’d simply be fueling his attitude, if that were even possible. He would be a pain in the neck either way.
“Do me a favor.” I said,
“Depends on what it is.”
“Don’t worry, this one won’t harm you.”
“Okay then.”
“Call me Trina. Everyone does, I like it better.
“Nah, I like Katrina, sounds older.”
“But,” I began.
“But, nothing, I will call you Katrina. That is your name.”
I could see he wasn’t going to budge.
“Fine,” I sighed.
We were sitting in my kitchen, at the bar, or island if you will, that was in the middle of the room. The room was quite spacious; the appliances’ were all stainless steel and the cabinets’ were a dark chocolate brown with black, granite countertops. The walls were a warm golden color and the floors hard wood. Why I had him meet me here, I had no clue. Oh, wait my mom would freak if I hadn’t. I jumped up and went over to the fridge to get some juice.
“Are you thirsty?” I asked grudgingly
“Nope,” He answered, letting his lips make a small “Pop,” at the end.
He was still sitting on one of the stools, his eyes following my every move. It reminded me of a cat watching a mouse. I sighed, snatched my juice from the fridge, and plopped down.
“How long is this going to take?” I asked.
“That depends on you.”
“What do you mean?”
"Well, the sooner you quit stalling, the sooner I can tutor you. The sooner I can tutor you, the sooner I can leave." He grinned. “And the sooner I can leave, the happier we both shall be.”
“Why do you do that?” I snapped.
“Do what?” His eyes were looking straight into mine. If I had been standing I would have taken a step back. His eyes were just too blue.
“You go back and forth. One minute you act as if you want to be near me, and the next you seem to hate me. Why? What have I ever done to you?”
He leaned back as he answered, “Besides run into me?”
“You really need to get over that, I apologized for heaven’s sake!”
He winced at the word “Heaven.” I noticed but, I could have been seeing things.
“You’re still stalling.” He replied.
“Fine, stay here,” I pointed at his chest. “Do not move and do not touch anything.”
“Whatever,” he sighed.
I trudged up the stairs to my room and grabbed my backpack. When I returned he was still sitting in the exact same position. I rolled my eyes.
“You can move now.” I said.
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to touch anything.” He said, lacing his voice with so much false concern, I very much wanted to shove him off the bar stool.
“Oh, shut up.” I said sitting back down.
“Touchy,” he laughed.
“I am not! You just happen to annoy me.”
“The feeling is mutual, don’t worry.”
“Then do us both a favor and go away!
“Tsk, tsk, someone wants to fail their history class.”
If I could have growled I would have. But I’d never been any good at it.
He reached around me and grabbed my bag, and took out my history book, a spiral notebook, and two pens.
“Let’s begin, shall we?”
“If we must,” I grumbled.
He smiled, and it sent shivers down my spine. The not so good kind, the kind I got when I first saw him at “Bookends.” I shrugged it off as he continued.
“Let’s begin with the basics, just to see how much you know.”
I motioned for him to begin.
“Alright,” he said, flipping through the book. “In what year did the Civil War begin?”
“1838?”
“Correct.” He took the note book and wrote something down. I wanted to see what he wrote, but he turned the book over when he was finished writing.
“Am I not allowed to see?” I asked.
“Nope,” he answered, making that same popping sound with his lips.
“Why not,” I asked.
“Because,” He said with a flourish, “I am your tutor and what I say goes.”
My gut reaction was to argue, but I already knew him well enough to know it would do me no good, so, I said nothing… just glared.
“In what year did it end?”
“1845?”
“Correct, again. Remind me, why did you need help?”
“Mrs. Kelly wants to torture me.” I said under my breath.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, I don’t know why to be honest.” I admitted.
I hate, hate admitting things. The less people know about me, the better I like it. But there was something about him that made me want to open a bit. How annoying.
“Well, do you have a problem remembering things?”
“Nope,” I answered, trying to imitate the sound he made.
“Then what’s your problem? We should start there.”
I sighed, “My biggest problem is when I have to write an essay.”
He didn’t look surprised, but asked,
“What’s so hard about that?”
“I don’t know!” I snapped at him.
He changed his tone before he replied; it was so much softer I did a mental double take.
“Katrina, I can’t help you, unless I know what’s wrong.”
And he was doing it again, making my mind think it was okay to open up. This was going to have to stop. None the less I answered.
“You’ll think I’m crazy,” I insisted.
“Try me, I’ve seen plenty crazy. You’re going to have to be out of your mind crazy to impress me.”
“Fine, I give, but it’s a bit hard to explain.”
“How so,” he asked.
“Well, I study, right? I read the book, I have everything memorized to the point I could say it in my sleep word for word almost. But when I begin to write, something happens.”
While he had been listening, his body began to lean in closer so slowly neither of us noticed until he asked,
“What happens?”
I looked up and realized how close he was, it made me jump. I cleared my throat, trying to cover the jump itself and sputtered for my words.
“I, um… I… I lose focus, and sort of zone out.”
“You, zone out?”
“Yeah, like I don’t realize what I’m writing, I see these scenes in my head, and when I’m done and read over the paper, instead of there being something I can turn in, it’s exactly what I see in my head.”
“What do you see?”
“Um, battles mostly.”
“What kind of battles?”
“What do you mean what kind of battles? The kind that would have happened in the Civil War except…”
“Except, what,” he asked softly.
“Except, they’re not… they’re….”
“Just tell me Katrina, it can’t be that bad.”
“They’re angels.” I whispered.
“Angels? What do you mean?”
“The people fighting, they’re not people… they’re angels.”
“You mean, like with halos and wings and things like that?” He laughed, “You’re right Katrina that is crazy.”
“I told you!” I grabbed the book and snapped it shut. “And for the record, there are no halos.”
“Alright, well why not tell me what you see. You know, this could be some sort of mental problem, maybe talking about it will help.”
“Oh, now you’re just making fun of me.” I grumbled.
“No, no I’m not.” He said through half a laugh. “Okay, well maybe I am, just a little.”
I glared at him.
“Oh, C’mon, I told Mrs. Kelly I would help you. What harm could it do? We have to try something.
“Fine, well what do you want me to do? It’s not as simple as telling a story, and after a while the details get fuzzy.”
“Hmm…”
This was crazy, and I knew it. I either wanted to strangle this boy for annoying me, or for trying to help me. That in itself was annoying. I was used to doing things on my own. But then again… he wasn’t really doing to just help me. Mrs. Kelly would be giving him extra credit, so, he’s really helping himself. I could deal with that… I think. It was typical guy behavior, nothing new.
“I’ve got it!” he exclaimed, bringing me out of my thoughts.
“Got what?” I asked.
