This Rose Bleeds (boyxboy)

Chapter ~Three~

HIYA!!!! so…like it? TELL ME!!!! okay, desperate much? haha so…yeah. This chapter is about Ryder's tutoring. He is really bipolar, I swear. Anyway, any ideas as to who should play Nathan and Ryder?

Nathan: Black hair, light blue eyes

Ryder: Blond highlights in brown hair, gray eyes

comment, vote, climb a tree, do SOMETHING!!!!

enjoy!

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My shift never really ends when it’s supposed to. I’d always stay longer for the extra hours, sometimes not leaving until after the café closes. Often, I’d still be cleaning even after Kristy and her grandmother leave.
            But today was different and I was slipping on my usual long sleeved shirt earlier that usual. I got my bags and took off out of the café, determined not to be late for tutoring.
            The address Mrs. Kenneth gave me showed that they lived in an expensive part of town. I was panting hard when I came to their street.
            Not a lot of houses dotted the sides, considering most were huge and had a gate as well as trees blocking my view. I counted the houses until I came to the last one where a circular road allowed lost cars to turn around. They had a gate as well, but it stood slightly ajar so I let myself in.
            It was big. Maybe ten times the size of my house, which was a flat. It was painted a cheerful white. I knocked, honestly quite nervous, on the double doors.
            Mrs. Kenneth answered. She was wearing one of the many sun dressers I’ve seen her in at the shop. She ushered me in.
            “I’m so glad you found our house, it gets quite confusing down this side of the neighborhood.” She led me up the stairs to the second floor and down a hallway. Se stopped in front of an ordinary door and whispered, “Thank you so much for agreeing to tutor him. Don’t let his attitude bother you, he’s actually really glad.”            I seriously doubted that but didn’t voice it. She pushed open the door and peeked inside for Ryder. He must have been in the connecting bathroom because the door was closed. And the shower was running she shepherd me in and smiled before closing the door, marking her leave.
            His room was huge, and by huge I mean about twice the size of my kitchen. I sat on the bed and it sunk a little bit. It was one of those mattresses that felt like feathers were stuffed inside, and I was slightly insulted that it barely sunk under my weight. I wasn’t that scrawny, was I?
            I took my books out and a pencil, deciding to get some of my own homework done before he came out.
            It didn’t take long. I was on my second page of math when the door opened and he came out in only sweats. His hair was dripping and he shook it before he noticed he wasn’t the only one in the room.
            “What the fuck?” He shouted as he stumbled to his dresser and rummaged for something.
            I felt like laughing, but knew better. I covered my mouth that betrayed a small smile. I think he was exaggerating.
            He threw the towel that was slung over his shoulder at my face. I fell back on the bed a little dumbstruck. Gross.
            “What was that for…” I pushed myself up and picked the towel off my face. He stood in front of me with a glare and his arms crossed over a clean shirt.
            “What the hell are you doing here?” He growled.
            “Um, tutoring?” I hinted. He frowned before being lit with understanding.
            “Oh…yeah.” He glowered and went to the corner and slammed down in a beanbag. He was seated in front of a large TV on a stand and pulled out a game controller. He hooked up one of those digital soccer games I’ve never played or tried to understand.
            I cleared my throat to get his attention. He ignored me and pressed start. Music erupted from the attached stereo and he turned it down a notch.
            “Hey.” I called. Again he ignored me and continued playing.
            I was getting annoyed. I was so glad I wasn’t obliged to smile and be polite, because I really didn’t feel like paying him any respect. I pushed myself off from the bed with my textbook and paper with answers in either hand. I blocked his vision of the huge TV.
            “Do your homework.” I commanded.
            He scoffed and motioned with the controller. “Get out of my way. My mom will pay; you don’t really have to do anything. You’re only here for the money right?”
            I frowned. Like I mentioned before, I had pride and always worked for what could be earned. I looked around the room to find his bag on the side of the TV stand. I retrieved it and threw it in his lap.
            His temper rose instantly and he glared. “What the hell?”
            I pressed the button, turning off the TV, and sat in front of him. “I’m being paid to help you bring your grades up. So your grades will go up.”
            He shouted, “Ugh!” and threw his controller at the wall. I flinched but it was small. He savagely took out his textbook and a paper to write the answers and figure out the problems.
            I was surprised he was obliging, but waited for him to answer the first math problem. After a moment of staring at the textbook, he slammed it shut and rubbed his face with both hands.
            “I hate this.”
            “The feelings mutual.” I muttered. He glared and I composed myself. I moved so I was next to him and used my textbook.
            “Okay, first problem. We’re using the binomial theorem–”
            “Wait, why do you have the same text book as me?” He asked frowning. “This is advanced algebra.”
            Oh…I forgot.
            “I’m…ah, in your class.” I finished awkwardly.
            “No your–”
            “Come on focus.” I pointed at the work again and he sighed.
            He wasn’t really dumb. He understood for the most part. He just didn’t like doing the work, and after the first page of problems, he completely abandoned it and sat back in his beanbag.
            “Come on, we’re almost done.”
            “Fuck off.” I winced again and moved away so I faced him. He raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Aw, so you really don’t like bad words?” He asked like he had at the café. I didn’t answer and took to finishing my own homework. “Hey, answer.”
            He didn’t need an answer. Instead I said, “Answer your own problems, you have two pages left.”
            I heard him growl and I made sure to avoid eye contact. I think he was getting mad from being forced to study. I felt his eyes on me and tried to ignore it. All of a sudden he asked, “Hey, why’s there a bruise on your face?”
            His hand appeared in my vision and brushed the bruise and I jumped back whilst tossing my textbook in the air. It landed beside me but I was sprawled back.
            He raised both eyebrows and asked, “Phobia of being touched too?” He laughed, “Pathetic.”
            “Shut up.” I stammered and reached for my textbook. “I’m not the pathetic one here.”
            He glared and grabbed the front of my shirt. I clawed at his hands and whimpered. Maybe I really was that pathetic. I shut my eyes trying to close off the intimidating presence.
            Nothing came. I peeked my eyes open to find him staring at me. “What’s wrong with you?” He asked with crease lines on his forehead.
            “Nothing.” I pried his fingers off my shirt and sighed in relief when there was space between us.
            “You keep flinching.” He said annoyed. I don’t know why. “Are you mentally off?” I scrambled up and gathered my books in my bag. Maybe I should leave.
            “You shouldn’t be talking. You can’t even finish those simple equations.”
            That wiped what concern was on his face away. “Are you calling me dumb?” He growled.
            For a moment, I myself acted very stupid as I walked to the door. But in my defense I was trying to drive the topic away from myself. “Yes actually. Dumb, stupid,” I pretended to think for a moment. “Pathetic, maybe?”
            He looked shocked but recovered quickly. I was ready to dart out of the room but he slammed the door I had opened shut. I tried to open it, but with his hand holding it closed, the attempt was useless.
            “Let me out.” I said turning back to him. I checked my watch. It had been an hour. I was supposed to stay for two.
            His temper was loose and he glowered. I hadn’t noticed before, but he was at least a head taller. “You’re an idiot.” He spat. He raised a fist. How grand, I’m going to get punched for the second time today.
            With wide eyes I slipped under his arm so I was scrambling to the opposite side of the room.
            My arm was yanked back and suddenly my feet weren’t touching the ground. Instead I was sinking in a warm mattress. I was terrified as he pinned me. I realized I must’ve dropped my bag so I couldn’t use that to hit him. Instead I uselessly pushed him away. Despite how much I worked, I was annoyingly weak. He seemed to notice at the same time and smirked.
            “Who’s pathetic now?” Me.
            I punched at his chest to get him off but seriously, what could I do? He was huge compared to my slim frame whereas he had muscle. Something I knew I would never have. He himself was growing annoyed and grabbed both my hands with one of his own and held it above my head. I squirmed uncontrollably, but that was just to hide the shivering. His other hand grabbed my hair to still my frantic figure.
            I gave up struggling and laid panting, hoping the punch that would come would be aimed to my stomach. Yeah, I gave up. The hand gripping my hair briefly reminded me of a time before, when I was younger. That memory brought waves of trembles over me. I looked at him with wide eyes.
            The anger slowly dissolved. Soon he was just staring at me in confusion and slight annoyance.
            He was frowning deeply now. “Why are you shaking?” Then his eyes narrowed and he muttered, almost to himself,  “I have seen you before…”
            “Get,” I took a deep breath and tried to shove him off, but nothing could be done when my arms were forced above my head. “Off.”
            He looked confused for a moment as though he forgot his position. Understanding and maybe embarrassment crossed his features and he hurriedly got off and stood at the edge of the bed. I scooted back completely so I was against the headboard, and rubbed my left wrist.
            Honestly, I was amazed. He held my wrist and hadn’t noticed anything.
            I tugged on my sleeves warily. He hadn’t noticed anything, right?
            “Sorry, I…” He stopped and scratched his brown-blond hair. He looked dumbfounded. He wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for, especially when he had been mad about a moment ago. He made a frustrated noise and I held my arms close to myself and tried to shrink into the pillows. He looked entirely confused and came to the side.
            “What’s–”
            I saw a hand reaching toward me and like in the memories I shouted, “Don’t hurt me!” while shying away.
            “I’m not going to hurt you.” He said in disbelief.
            Did he say he wasn’t going to hurt me? I almost laughed. Of course he was going to hurt me! He was about to punch me five seconds ago!
            “Why are you…” He trailed off. He licked his lips and started again. “Why are you so…scared?” He finished lamely.
            “I’m not.” I defended and pulled on my sleeves one last time. “I’m just…I don’t like being touched.”
            “Or cuss words apparently.” He scoffed but stopped when he saw I wasn’t sharing his amusement. “Sorry.”
            I looked at him in the eye and wondered if he was sincere. It didn’t matter. I felt my manners kick in and I responded, “It’s not you.”
            “Then what then?” He asked curiously as he sat down. The bed sunk under his weight. I felt mocked.
            “Why would you care?” I couldn’t help but ask. “You tried to punch me just now.”
            He shook his head hurriedly. “I didn’t mean it, I just have a temper.” He admitted and laughed nervously. Gosh, he was bi-polar. His attitude keeps changing.
            No kidding. Wait…“I’m sorry.” I said quickly. I forgot. Even if I wasn’t working at the café at the moment, I was still working. And I was supposed to be tutoring, not insulting him. Would Mrs. Kenneth fire me? Of course she would, on the spot. Oh no, what if she stopped coming to the café? I would be the reason for the lost of a regular! “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said. I just…please don’t tell Mrs. Kenneth.” I pleaded.
            He looked at me weirdly. It amazed me how fast his attitude can change.
            “Tell mom what, that I got most my homework done? Aw, I was looking forward to seeing her face.”
            There was a moment of silence. Then a nervous laugh escaped. It was a way to relieve the tension in my mind. He smiled but was looking at me strangely.
            “What?”
            He shook his head. “Nothing.” He got up and walked over to the beanbag and looked at his homework. “I feel like finishing.”
            “Really?” I asked in disbelief. He looked back at me with a smirk. He seemed different now. I don’t know what he was thinking, but he seemed less like a…jerk.
            What happened?