Free Falling

Page 18

He shrugged easily. “No worries. It’s not like I don’t deserve it, so don’t apologise.” He put a blueberry muffin down in front of me. “Got you this.”
I sighed and felt my heart stutter because he was always sweet like that. “Thanks.”
The rest of lunch was fairly quiet. I just ate my food, trying to pretend that everyone wasn’t watching mine and Luke’s every move. The rumour mill seemed to be waiting with baited breath for the gossip.
My next two classes were fun. I had them both with Zach, and he really was a funny guy. I did a little more unintentional flirting, but it was harmless really because he knew I was still hung up on Luke, and he’d already said he didn’t date. Both of us knew it wouldn’t go anywhere, so I just let myself be myself and have fun for a change. I even enjoyed my gym class because he chose me to partner him and we were practicing kicking a football. I was terrible as I expected, but much to his obvious efforts, it turned out that Zach couldn’t kick to save his life either. Both of us were in hysterics as we missed the goal posts time and time again. It was nice to laugh and I didn’t once think about Luke or my locker.
After braving my last class on my own, Zach was waiting by my locker at the end of the day. I groaned because this was going to be our first tutoring session. That part was okay, it was the getting home part that I was dreading. He was driving, and that therefore meant another ride on his bike.
“Ready?” he asked, grinning. We’d agreed to go to his place to study today because his aunt wanted reassurance that he was actually working. Apparently she hadn’t been too impressed with the state of his face when he went home last night, so to make her feel better we were studying at his house so she could keep her eye on him. I’d already text Alex and my mom to tell them.
I nodded, grabbing the rest of my books from my locker. “Lead the way then, bad boy,” I teased, laughing.
I followed him out to the parking lot and over to his motorbike. He stopped beside it and dug around in his rucksack, pulling something out. I smiled when he held it out to me. “I thought you didn’t like to wear one,” I mused as I looked down at the black helmet.
He shrugged. “I brought it for you to use, you wanted one last time.”
“You brought me a helmet?” I smiled gratefully at him because that was thoughtful. He opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by someone shouting my name behind us. I turned to see Luke striding over; he looked murderously angry. “What?” I asked, wondering why he looked so mad.
“You’re not going anywhere with him,” Luke barked, glaring at Zach as he pulled me into his body, clamping me to him possessively.
I shoved on his chest, pushing myself away from him as I glared at him with as much hate as I could muster, which probably wasn’t that much considering I was still in love with him. “Just grow up will you? What the hell is your problem?” I cried, throwing my hands up in exasperation.
Luke pointed over my shoulder, his eyes angry and his jaw tight as he glared at Zach. “Him! He’s my problem. The way he looks at you is my problem. Him taking my girlfriend home is my problem!” he shouted angrily.
Movement at my side told me that Zach had stepped closer to me. My mouth had gone dry; I had no idea what to say. Luke was delusional, what on earth was he thinking?
“Why don’t you just leave her alone already?” Zach growled, his voice angry and full of force. He stood the same height as Luke, but the way he held himself was more confident and assured, so he somehow looked taller.
Luke sneered at him. “So you can worm your way into my girlfriend’s pants? I don’t think so!” he countered, reaching for my hand again.
I felt my cheeks flame with embarrassment at this conversation. Seriously, this is just plain ridiculous! “Luke, for goodness sake, get a grip of yourself, you’re being irrationally jealous!” I scolded, shaking my head firmly.
“There is no freaking way you’re going home with him on that pile of scrap metal. I’ll drive you home,” he growled.
I frowned and shook my head. “Luke. I’m going to Zach’s place to tutor him.”
He snorted and shook his head, gripping my hand and pulling me closer to him again. “Not on that thing you’re not. No way!” he stated, looking at me sternly.
I looked at him incredulously. Was he seriously going to tell me what I could and couldn’t do? He had no rights to that anymore - not that he had the right in the first place, but he lost his say when he bedded that tramp at the party.
“Don’t tell me what I can do. You don’t own me!” I hissed, slapping his hand off of my arm angrily. “Go to practice and stop being such a jealous idiot,” I instructed. I turned to Zach and took the helmet out of his hand. He was grinning at Luke triumphantly. “And you, stop smirking and start the damn bike!” I stated.
He laughed and threw his leg over the bike, kick starting it. I tried not to flinch as it roared to life; the loud growl of the engine made my stomach tremble with fear. I gulped and pulled the helmet down on my head, noticing how it fitted nicely. I turned to glare at Luke who was just standing there with a scowl on his face and his whole posture tight and angry. I swung my leg over the bike, scooting up close behind Zach and wrapped my arms tightly around his waist, praying I didn’t die before we got to our desired destination. I bit back my little scream as we lurched forward and left a seething Luke behind us.
Chapter 12
I’d actually forgotten how much I enjoyed being on his bike. By the time we pulled up at his house, I was in a state of euphoria and didn’t want it to end. My fingers were aching where I was holding on so tightly, but the adrenalin of driving so fast, leaning into the corners, and the wind whipping my clothes around, all of it made the biggest smile stretch across my face. When he cut the engine I was actually a little disappointed, but at least I had the ride home to look forward to.
When we stopped, he kicked on the stand and I just sat there, listening to my heart race in my ears as I smiled like an idiot. Zach talking snapped me back to reality. “As much as I enjoy having you wrap yourself around me, are you planning on letting go anytime soon?” he asked sarcastically, smirking at me over his shoulder as his hands brushed over my arms that were clamped around his waist.
I laughed sheepishly and unwound my arms from the bear hug that I had him trapped in. “Sorry. They should put handles on these things,” I muttered, feeling my face flame with embarrassment.
“They do.” He nodded towards the rear of the bike and I spotted a little handle there, welded just behind me.
I frowned. “So how am I supposed to hold onto that? Ride backwards?” I asked incredulously.
He laughed, shaking his head as he stood up, climbing off the bike. “Are we really sure that you’re the right person to be tutoring me?” he joked, raising one eyebrow playfully.
“Oh ha ha, you’re very funny today,” I muttered, rolling my eyes as I climbed awkwardly off the bike. When I pulled the helmet off my head, he burst out laughing. “What?”
“You have helmet hair,” he chuckled. I groaned and shoved the helmet in his chest, freeing my hands so I could smooth back my ponytail again while he just laughed quietly at me and stowed the helmet in his bag. “Come on, I’m hungry.” He walked off towards his house without waiting for me. As I followed behind him, I looked at the place he lived; it was a sweet little detached house with a white front door. The front yard looked well-kept and everything had a little cute feel about it.
“This is a nice place,” I commented as I followed him inside and into the hallway. It was just as cute inside as it was outside; everything had that homey feel about it.
He nodded. “It’s alright I guess. It’s not as nice as your house. Your parents must earn a bundle, huh?” he replied, nodding up the short hallway, motioning for me to go first.
“I guess, I don’t really know. My dad works hard at what he does.” I shrugged. At the end of the hallway I stepped into an adorable little rustic kitchen. His aunt was sitting at the table with her laptop out, chewing on her pen thoughtfully. She looked up and smiled as we walked in together.
“Hey, guys. Good day at school?” She raised one eyebrow at Zach. “You did go, didn’t you? I didn’t get a call so you must have done.”
He nodded, sighing. “Yes, Olivia, I went. I stayed there all day like a good little boy, and I didn’t even get in any fights today. Aren’t you proud of me?” he asked sarcastically.
A fond smile twitched at the corner of her mouth as she nodded. “I’m so proud of you, Zach,” she replied with fake enthusiasm, holding her hand over her heart. “I think you deserve a reward for attending a whole day at school. How about I buy you the GI Joe that you’ve been bugging me to get you for ages? You know, the one with the interchangeable accessories?” she suggested teasingly.
I laughed, liking her already.
“Actually, it was the Ken doll I wanted,” he shot back, playing along. She laughed and reached into her purse, pulling out something and tossing it to Zach who caught it effortlessly. “Sweet!” he chirped happily. I looked over curiously to see he was smiling lovingly at a cell phone; obviously it had been confiscated pending him going to school today.
His aunt looked at me and smiled. “Nice to see you again. It’s Maisie, isn’t it?”
I nodded, smiling politely. “It’s nice to see you again too, Mrs Kingston.”
She waved her hand dismissively, making a scoffing sound. “Don’t call me that, it makes me feel old. Olivia is fine.” Zach pulled open the fridge; grabbing the orange juice and chugging it straight from the carton which made his aunt gasp and throw her pen at him. “How many times do I have to tell you not to drink from the carton?” she cried.
He shrugged, swallowing and putting the juice back in the fridge. “At least a couple more times,” he replied casually as he wiped his mouth with the back of one hand. I made a mental note never to drink juice in his house. He turned to me and smiled. “Want a soda or something?” he asked, pulling a can of Pepsi from the fridge and passing it to me without waiting for me to answer.
“You’re a pig,” I scolded, shaking my head at him. He was so much like Alex that it was unreal; maybe it was a teenage boy thing, though Zach was nineteen so he wouldn’t even be a teenager for much longer.
He just grinned in response.
“Zach, I bought chicken but they didn’t have br**sts like you wanted, so I had to get strips, that okay?” Olivia asked, looking at him hopefully.
He shrugged. “Sure, that’ll work,” he answered. He nodded back to the door we came in through. “Let’s go study then before your colour coded tutoring schedule becomes irrelevant. We don’t want to run out of time and have to skip the red section, do we?” he teased, looking at me with mock horror. He grabbed a pack of cookies and two apples, then ushered me out of the kitchen.
“What do you want chicken for?” I asked curiously, following him up the stairs.
“Dinner. Olivia can’t cook, and if she ever does cook, eat it at your own risk because that crud is toxic,” he replied, shuddering.
I laughed and looked at him to see if he was joking. “You cook?” That had to be a joke; he couldn’t really cook, surely.
“Yep, pretty freaking awesomely actually,” he boasted. He shoved open a door at the end of the corridor, exposing the messiest bedroom I’d ever seen in my life. I stopped, looking at the clothes all over the floor, the unmade bed, the empty packets and soda cans, the screwed up paper scattered everywhere. The place was disgusting, and I couldn’t even identify the colour of his carpet because it was barely visible.
“Seriously? You expect me to tutor you,” I motioned around the room in disgust, “in here?”
He grinned. “Sure. The crap won’t bite ya,” he joked, pressing on the small of my back, forcing me step to into the room.
I cringed as my foot collided with what looked like a half-eaten pie. “Are you positive about that?” I closed my eyes, wishing I was home already. “New rules, tutoring is always at my place,” I added as an afterthought.
“Don’t be such a princess,” he scolded, laughing as he pressed on my back again, making me step deeper into the hazard he called a bedroom.
I groaned, glancing around again at the room and wincing. It really was gross. “Do you even have a desk under all that clutter?”
He laughed. “Nope. We’ll have to do it on the bed,” he replied, and then a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth so I knew he was thinking about how dirty that sounded in his mind.
“Awesome,” I muttered, tiptoeing over his clothes and magazines that littered the floor, heading towards his bed. I plopped my bag down on it as he grabbed the sheets, tugging on them and making it a little flatter to sit on rather than a bulky quilt pile in the middle where he’d obviously just gotten up and left it this morning. My eyes raked over his walls, looking at the posters and clippings he had stuck up. They all seemed to be of the same guy. “Who’s that?” I asked, squinting at the brown haired guy that was probably in his late thirties. He looked a little familiar, but I couldn’t place him.
“Cyril Raffaelli,” he answered as if that made perfect sense.
I raised one eyebrow in question. “And he would be?”
“The best traceur that ever graced God’s green earth,” he replied, looking at the poster in awe.
“Tracer? Like detective type thing?” I asked, looking at the poster again. He didn’t look much like a detective.