Angie entered Café Hoff at ten to four on Thursday, thinking just how stupid she was. Why would Tom help her? And what did he know about biology anyway? He was a freaking DJ. He probably just wanted to see her in the daylight and maybe try to grope her. Even if he didn't look like a sleaze bag. Maybe he was a well-disguised sleaze bag.
Still, she sat at a corner table, her eyes fixed on the door, waiting. Because if by some chance this was for real, she needed all the help she could get. And she wished Tom would show up already, because she had no money to spend on coffee so they'd let her keep the table. Maybe she should have waited outside.
Three minutes after four, Angie was still staring at the door, heart pounding, counting the seconds until it was reasonable to bolt. Waiting for just five minutes was socially acceptable, right?
"Hey." Tom slid into the seat in front of her, scaring her half to death.
"Where'd you come from?" she asked, shocked. Because she'd been staring at the door the whole time. Unless she'd completely zoned out.
"Biologically speaking?" he asked, dropping a stack of books and notebooks on the table and propping a skateboard against his chair.
Angie studied him in the daylight. His hair really was black, the kind of black that almost had blue highlights. His skin was smooth and tanned and he looked a little bigger in proper light. His shoulders were broad, his biceps defined and he obviously worked out or did sports or something. He was pretty thin, though. She could tell by the way his t-shirt clung off him.
Today, it was a green shirt with the picture of an iPod with a golden chain hanging around its neck and a flat cap and the inscription So Player. She chuckled.
"What?" he asked, reaching out and pulling her notebooks towards him.
"Do all your t-shirts have puns on them?"
Tom looked down at his chest as if he couldn't remember what he was wearing. "Yup, pretty much." And he opened the nearest notebook at random.
He seemed awfully in a hurry. Maybe he was and she'd just gotten in his way. Heat rose to her cheeks. She was probably blushing like an idiot for no reason. This was his idea. But she had no way of telling if he looked annoyed or curious or what. Those sunglasses were really starting to bug her.
"What the hell?" he said all of a sudden. He pulled out her test, the one she'd gotten a B on.
Her stomach clenched uncomfortably. "Don't tell me you've never gotten a B." Or maybe he realized she wasn't trying to bounce back from an F and he was out of his league.
"No, I haven't. And you shouldn't have gotten a B either," he answered to her surprise. "Your answer is correct. The correction is wrong."
"What?" Angie pulled the paper out of his hands. She'd been so dejected, she hadn't even bothered to check. Because she knew she hadn't given her best.
Tom took one of his books, opened it and pushed towards her. "See? Your answer is correct."
Angie looked from the beat down manual to her test, and a shiver sent goosebumps on her arms. This was hardly a reason for celebration. It meant the teacher had it in for her bad. She almost groaned.
"And for some reason, that doesn't make you happy," he noticed flatly.
Well, he was perceptive. She shook her head, but didn't elaborate. It was none of his business. Instead, she reached over the table and took out her latest project. If he could spot the mistake, maybe he could help with this, too.
Tom seemed to stare at her for a moment before he focused on her homework and she was left to admire herself in his blue lenses.
"Why do you wear those glasses?" she found herself asking.
He looked up at her. "It's just easier."
"Huh?"
He let out a sigh and leaned back in his seat. "Very often, I get sick of people. Of justifying myself, of explaining, of... I don't know. Fitting in, I guess. The glasses make it much easier to avoid all that. I don't look at you, you don't look at me and we can continue ignoring each other."
Angie blinked. She kinda got it. But only kind of. "You don't seem antisocial."
"I'm not. I'm actually a bit of a show off." He pulled a pencil out from behind his ear and started scribbling on her paper. "But I do it on my own terms. I think I have an old project from last year that could help you." He passes her one of his notebooks. "Try not to lose it. I want it back."
She took it without a word, still trying to wrap her head around this weirdo. Once she opened it, her jaw dropped. "Wow, this is very complex. You a senior?"
"Junior," he answered, draping an arm over his seat. "But I've been in honors biology since the second semester of my freshman year."
So he was just one year older than her. And apparently a whiz at a subject most people dismissed. She threw him one more glance. He did not look like someone who was good at biology. Not with the skateboard, the ripped jeans, the sunglasses and the punny shirts. Neither did he look like someone who got straight A's. In case he wasn't actually lying.
But as she looked at his notebook, at him scribbling on hers, it didn't seem that way. His handwriting was a little hard to read, but after a few lines, she got the hang of it. It was not bad, just messy. Kinda like him.
"You alright in there?" he asked, not raising his head. "Do I need to explain anything?"
"Not yet. I still have to read some stuff, but I think I'm good." She flipped a few pages.
His head shot up and Angie was pretty sure he was squinting at her from behind those glasses. "Really?" he asked.
"Yes, really." Why did that seem so unrealistic? Did she look stupid or what?
"Where does soy milk come from?" he asked.
Angie stared for a second then laughed. What the hell? "It comes from the soy milk factory."
"Yeah, but what's it made of?"
"Soy. What is this, twenty questions about soy milk?"
"What's soy?" Tom asked, unhindered by her sarcasm.
"It's a plant. Why are you doing this?" It was funny, but seriously weird.
He leaned back in his seat, scratching his chin with the end of the pencil. "You know, I think vaccines do cause Autism after all."
Her jaw hit the table. What the hell was wrong with this guy? "Um, you know that study was totally debunked by a lot more scientific studies, right?"
"What's a Nazi?"
"Tom. Stop." She didn't know if she should laugh or freak out or laugh and freak out at the same time.
"And how do you spell it?"
She wrote the word on his notebook together with a very inappropriate joke containing Nazis and personal hygene, and slid it across the table. He read it, knocked his head back and laughed. It was so infectious, she found herself giggling, too.
"Yup, you definitely know what a Nazi is." He pushed the notebook back to her. "You also have a problem with this class."
She waved him away. "I got this." Even if she didn't and she was scared.
"Okay then." He pushed all the books towards her, got to his feet and picked up the skateboard. It looked old and battered.
"What, you're leaving already?" she asked before she could help herself.
He raised an eyebrow. Figures that he'd be one of those people who could raise just one on command. "Why? You gonna miss me?"
Yes, she would. Why? Was her social life that in the dumps that he was clinging to this guy? Honestly? Yes, yes it was. Except for Kay, she had zero friends. "Who else will I play weird twenty questions with?"
"Hmmm." He dropped the skateboard and sat back down. "Okay. Your turn."
It was weird, but his presence was somehow hypnotizing. He was different from anyone Angie had ever met and she wasn't sure if it was his humor, his randomness or the fact that he was incredibly good looking, but she liked being around him.
"Ahem, today, beautiful."
She snapped back to reality as his words hit her. He thought she was beautiful. And it made her grit her teeth.
"Why are you helping me?"
"Oh, you want to play serious twenty questions, huh?" His fingers drummed on the table in a fast, complicated pattern. "I honestly don't know, because I'm not usually the philanthropic type. I just... word vomit."
"You could've backed out."
"That would have been incredibly douchey of me."
"So, I'm basically wasting your time," she concluded.
"No. I'm basically wasting it myself. But I'm not complaining. At least you know what soy milk is."
Angie fought the impulse to ask why that mattered and launched into the all-important question. "So you think I'm beautiful?"
Tom raised both eyebrows this time, but his face remained pretty passive otherwise. "Do you need a morale boost or something?"
"No. Just humor me. I answered your soy questions."
He leaned forward as if to see her better. "You are esthetically pleasing in general. You don't look perfect. Your nose is a little upturned, and while I find that cute, it's not a standard in beauty. You have a gap between your front teeth. You look tired. Scratch that, exhausted. Overall impression? Yes, you're beautiful, to me, but I wouldn't consider a career in modeling if I were you." And he leaned back as though to say BAM!
Angie just stared like an idiot, frozen in place. How had he noticed the gap between her teeth? It took people years to notice that. He thought her nose was cute. She was beautiful to him. Her chest warmed up, but it wasn't because of his words, but because of the way he said them. Objectively. He wasn't trying to woo her. He'd actually been pretty rude. Which means, trying to get with her was not why he was helping her. Or he had a really weird way to hit on people.
"Good thing I don't want to be a model then."
He smirked. "I totally could."
She just laughed, but he did have a point. Though his expression was hardly vacant enough. "Modesty, thy name is Tom."
"Anything else you want to ask me?"
She had a lot of things to ask. Where he went to school, what he liked to do, if there was any way they could see each other again, but she just shook her head. He was interesting and nice in a weird way, but she wouldn't force herself on him. Because, honestly, he didn't seem to like her much.
"Nah, I'm good. Your questions were much better."
He got to his feet again and picked up the skateboard. "I'm here every Thursday at four, in case you want more help or to get me my notebooks back. I'm also at the club Monday, Friday and Saturday."
Angie nodded, bringing his fidgeting hands under the table. "Thanks. I'll take care of your stuff."
"See ya." And he strode to the door. Once out, he got on the skateboard and zoomed off.
Angie gathered the books and piled them in her backpack, her mind zooming. He hadn't asked for her number. Sure, she didn't have one, but he didn't know that. He'd given her ways to contact him, not the other way around. Could this really mean that he wanted nothing in return for his help? Had she finally found a decent guy in this world?
Against her better judgment, hope warmed her chest. She shook her head furiously. Tom was dangerous. He got under her skin too easily with his weirdness.
She walked out of the café, her mind still spinning. They'd been in there for an hour and no one had come to ask if they wanted anything.
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I had fun with this chapter. The story should start getting more interesting and have a better flow from here on out.
Is Angie growing on you or is it a right pain in the ass to follow her around? Also, how about her interactions with Tom? Does it make sense that she'd want to hang out with him at this point?
Thanks so much for reading and don't forget to vote and comment!