Sincerely, L //Zauren

2.

"So if the number is to a certain power, you multiply by it's self as many times as it says." Summer tries her hardest to explain the complicated math problem to me.

It's so hard to focus on her words and the notebook on the table. You see, the couch in the living area has a clear view of the kitchen where Summer's dad started cooking awhile ago. I can't stop watching as he stands at the stove, cooking whatever's in the pan in front of him. He swapped out the button up shirt he wore earlier for a tank top that bares all his tattoos and muscles that flex each time he moves.

"You get it, right?" Summer pulls me out of my inappropriate trance. The man is old enough to be my father, I shouldn't be half way drooling on the pencil between my lips like I am now.

I look back to the problem that she finished and nod my head with a smile, hoping she didn't see me eyeballing her dad.

"Yep." I fish my phone out of my book bag and look at the time. I still have about half an hour before I have to be home, but I'm starting to grow tired of Summer's endless attempts at trying to teach me.

"I wish I could stay longer, but I have to be home by seven. I'm gonna start walking now so I can make it in time." The first part was a lie. I stand from the couch and smooth out the wrinkles in my school skirt.

Summer stood with a look of disbelief.
"Walk? Its so late." She says.

"Summer, I always walk. I'll be fine, I'm only a few blocks away." I assure her. I can see through the window that it's already dark out. Maybe she does have a point.

"Dad-" she yelled to the kitchen to get her father's attention. No, no, no. The feeling in the pit of my stomach grew.

"No Summer, it's fine, really." I protest while shaking my head.

I look down at my feet nervously as I hear her dad's footsteps coming into the living area where we are.

"Whats wrong, sweetheart?" He asked.

"Lauren needs a ride home."

"I'm fine with walking, honestly." I say immediately with a reassuring smile. Please, just let me walk. I looked up at her father who face looked unconvinced.

"I'll drive you. It's way too dark out for you to walk." He says. Its the first time he's directly talked to me. I started to pick at the material of my skirt when we locked eyes. His eyes are much more of a hazel than Summer's now that I see them up close.

"Ok." I caved with a sigh.

He looked back to his daughter. "Keep an eye out on the food while I'm gone."

"Bye L, text me." She hugged me before heading into the kitchen to tend to the food on the stove.

That left her father and I in the living room. I swallowed a lump in my throat.

"Come." He laid his hand on my shoulder and guided my towards the front door. "Let's get you home."
The slight contact only made the tingling in the pit of my stomach worse.

The car was painfully quiet. I'm not going to be the first to say something, it's just too awkward. I stared out the window at the passing houses, while giving him direction every few minutes.

"Summer talks about you a lot. How long have you two know each other?" He breaks the ice.

I glance at him over my shoulder for a brief second.

"For about a year now." I think it's been a year now. Summer didn't have that many friends when I first moved here, but I'd say I'm her closest one.

He turned the corner and my house with the porch lights on came into view.

"Its that one on the left." I pointed.

Once he parked on the curb, I pulled my bag on my shoulder and turned to look at him.

"Thank you, Mr..." I trailed off hoping he'd catch on.

"I'm fine with Zayn." He smiles. I feel the warmth of his hand on my bare knee and my breathing hitches at the unfitting gesture. Oh God, that tingling in my stomach is ready to explode

"Oh, uh, sorry." He quickly moves his hand and places it back on the wheel.

I don't even have to look at my face to tell that it's turning red. Not wanting to make the moment more awkward than it already is, I mumble another quick 'Thank you' and stand out of the car, shutting the door behind me.

Within seconds, I'm inside my house. I quietly but quickly hurry up the stairs to my bedroom, not in best mood to play 21 questions with my mother about how my study date went with Summer.

As I rest my back against my closed door, I start to wonder why the feeling of his hand won't go away.