Beautiful Disaster

Chapter 5: Tutor

Tutor

I was lying on the couch – my head on Damian’s lap – staring into Damian’s eyes but thinking about Cap. I had until Wednesday to make an appointment with Cap and was dreading talking to him since every time I tried making contact with him, he treated me like I was some fatal disease.

How was I going to walk up to the guy that looked like he wanted to run whenever he saw me and ask him, no tell him that I’d been ordered to tutor him in a subject I barely passed? That’s just it, I couldn’t. I just couldn’t risk being hurt by Cap’s rejection, even if it was purely on a schooling basis. But I had to. I had no choice – either that, or therapy sessions with Bonnie and Meghan. Part of me knew that the therapy, though it may end in bodies being dragged from each other and onto stretchers,  would probably be the easier choice but part of me wanted to take the excuse of tutoring Cap in order to get to know him. I was fighting a losing battle against my contradicting feelings for Cap and sooner or later part of me was going to explode.

What was it about Cap, anyway? I had Damian who had been my best-guy-friend since grade school and my best-guy-friend-with-sexual-benefits since junior high, he’d been there my whole life, he’d seen me in my awkward phase and still though I was beautiful, he’d been with me on the countless times I’d end up crying over something, and was always there to talk to me when no one else could, Damian was the only stable man I could count on throughout most of my life. Then why was it I was thinking about someone who was repelled by me when I was someone who adored me?

“Chlo, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting distant ever since the Washington transfer and –”

“There’s nothing going on with me and Cap.” Unfortunately. “If, if that’s what you were insinuating.” I said breaking him off midsentence. “There’s only you,” I said before kissing him gently on the lips. I was shocked by his observation. Of course Damian would know if something was off, I just hoped he didn’t know exactly what.

Tuesday morning passed on eventless. Cap had once again taken the liberty of avoiding me to an extreme by staying out of school and I had once again felt somewhat incomplete by his absence.

I sat in my bedroom starring at my Hamlet comprehension sheet and sent out psychic messages to the still empty paper begging it to finish on its own, but my efforts were useless as the empty paper and blue Montblanc pen stared at me in defiance. Bonnie was in individual therapy at school – undoubtedly looking at the school shrink with the same defiance the pen and paper had – so I was left alone in my room. Not a good thing.

As I sat arms crossed on the chair by my desk my mind kept drifting to thoughts of none other than Capriano Delguard. I was tired of him ignoring me and wanted to march over to his house and demand answers from him. A plan I would’ve gone through with – well maybe not – had I known the whereabouts of his house. Cap didn’t really strike me as the kinda guy to live in this neighborhood so knocking on every door was out of the question. Then a paper across my room on my vanity table caught my attention.

The paper was the same paper I’d used on Monday to write down Cap’s number. Of course! How could I not remember writing down a number of the guy that captivated me with a single glance? I must’ve been too busy fretting on the task Mr. O'Conner had given me.

I reached into the pockets of my faded jeans and grabbed out my cell phone, looked at Cap’s number, then back at the phone, then back at his number, and without a second thought I dialed his number. My stomach flopped as he picked up on the second ring.

“Cap?” I asked, unsure of what to say.

“Yip,” he said calmly with a hint of annoyance at the edge of his words, and was that excitement I heard disguised in the annoyance? It couldn’t be.

“Uhm, Mr. O'Conner, our school principle –”

“I know who O'Conner is, Chloe.” He said cutting me off, the apparent annoyance in his voice growing. Well, at least he knows my name.

“Well then, he told me that I needed to get close,” wrong word, “uhm, acquainted with you and show you around. He also told me that I needed to tutor you in chemistry. S-” he cut me off once again, this time leaving me with the sound of a dead line.

Anger arose in me and I dialed his number again, my call was left to voice mail. I couldn’t believe he didn’t even have the decency to let me finish my sentence! And then he hung up on me! Urgh!

I grabbed the Tutor Roster, yip there was a roster, and wrote down: Client is Uncooperative!

I had the impulse to call Bonnie but when I remembered she was in therapy I stopped dialing. I needed to fume to someone and my mother wasn’t an option and Damian was definitely out of this category. I knew I couldn’t talk to my other friends because then I’d have to mention that ass’s name and I was in no mood to do that, so instead I folded my hand and sat in silent fury on my chair.

My phone began to ring. The caller I’d was an unknown number but I knew who it was. Cap. At first, I refused to answer but within five rings I reluctantly picked up the phone, briefly considered pressing reject, but in the end ended up answering.

“What, Cap?” I practically hissed.

“Look, I'm sorry for hanging up on you, but the reception in here sucks.” Yeah right.

“Humph,”

“You think I'm lying, don’t you?” he said, a light snicker escaping from his mouth as if laughing mockingly at some inside joke.

“Oh, what would’ve given that away? And anyway, I didn’t know I was a pun!” I said before I almost hung up on him. For some reason I couldn’t. It was if his voice hypnotized me. It was if I’d hung up, I’d break some unwritten prophecy. Weird.

“Pun? You?” he asked, his voice sounded sincerely shocked but I simply refused to believe this. Rather, I confided in the thoughts that told me he was being a sarcastic asswhole.

“So, where are you? I want to get this damn thing over with before I end up suffocating you with my presence.” I said mentally rolling my eyes.

“Your presence doesn’t suffocate me in the way you think.”

“So you're admitting it? I do suffocate you. Whenever I'm with you do think that I'm some fatally contagious disease. Well, I got news for you –”

“You don’t. You have no idea what your mere presence does to me!”

“What are you tryin to say? Do I have no idea how much I appall you?”

“Look, I'm at the seaport at a bar near one of the docks. I can’t do today because I'm busy, but Saturday I can make time for you, Chloe. Meet me at Seaport amusement park at about seven. We’ll leave for the library from there.” He said, hanging up on me before I had the opportunity to argue.