A Proscriptive Relationship

:A Proscriptive Relationship: 29

"No worries, I can make a great steak," Mr. Heywood responded, a charming smile on his face.

I rolled my eyes. Was he trying to flirt with my mom? That was gross!"

"Great!" my mom responded enthusiastically. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll take this time to make a few business calls..."

My mom smiled at Chris again and ruffled my hair before leaving the room. I frowned, trying to smooth my hair out. Mr. Heywood watched me with an amused look. I turned my frown onto him.

"What?"

"I didn't know your mom was a doting parent," he commented.

I shrugged. "She wasn't always. She was much more manageable before my dad died."

"You can sit in that chair right there," Mr. Heywood pointed to one of the kitchen chairs, "and let me do the cooking. It seems like you had a rough day."

"Huh?" I responded, raising an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Mr. Heywood gave me a flat look. I returned it with my own confused one. He started walking towards me, and I stood my ground. He stopped about a foot away and raised his hand up to my face.

I jumped slightly when I felt his hand on my cheek. I looked up at him, and his piercing gaze made my face heat up.

"There's a cut on your cheek," he commented, running his thumb over it, sending tingles to my toes. "Your shirt sleeve has a hole in it, and you have bruised knuckles."

I looked down at my hands in surprise. Like Mr. Heywood said, on my right hand, my four base knuckles from where Shawn had stepped on me where bruised. I looked back up at Mr. Heywood in shock. How had he noticed that?

"Should we talk about this now, or later?" he demanded, his mouthing twisting into a frown.

"There's nothing to talk about," I responded, realizing his hand was still on my face, and pushing it away. "Nothing happened."

He rolled his eyes. "Haven't I told you that you can't lie to me before?"

"I'm not lying," I stated stubbornly.

"Fine," Mr. Heywood responded simply, turning around, and walking away from me. "I trust you enough to believe you."

I narrowed my eyes slightly. Was he trying to make me feel guilty? Well, it wouldn't work. I could handle the guilt. After all, I had to handle the guilt of lying to Casey anyway.

"I'll just beat the truth out of Jeremy."

I sighed, hanging my head in defeat. "No, don't do that."

"So you'll tell me?"

I bit my lip, staring at the floor. "You won't like it..."

There was a sudden hand on my shoulder and I jumped slightly, unaware that Mr. Heywood had come back across the kitchen again. His eyes pierced into mine again, and I had to look away.

"Holly, I know I won't like it, but it's important that you tell me if something has happened."

"Don't be mad at Jeremy," I said in a quiet voice.

"Stop worrying about Jeremy, Holly!" Mr. Heywood demanded, sounding slightly angry. "Worry about yourself!"

I looked at him, a bit taken aback. He gaze was hard and I swallowed nervously.

"Jeremy, uh..." I struggled to form a coherent thought. With Mr. Heywood so close to me, and how nervous I was, it wasn't working so smoothly.

"Jeremy?" Mr. Heywood urged, taking a step away from me.