Perfect Student

Chapter 31

The movie ended and I was surprisingly wide awake, singing along to the last song. I looked to my left to find James doing quite the opposite. His head was slumped back against the couch and his mouth was open, though thankfully no drool was leaking out. I pulled my phone out and snapped a picture at the amusing visual, eager to use this as blackmail against him later. I realized that the sound on my phone was on a second too late.

"Hmm? What happened?" James asked, jumping up. He rubbed his eyes and his shoulders relaxed when he saw that I was sitting beside him, just as calmly as before.

 "Nothing happened," I said. "Go back to sleep."

"No," he argued. "You have to stay up for a little longer to make sure you don't have any head trauma."

"I'm not even dizzy anymore," I argued with a shrug. "I must have dodged him enough that it didn't give me a concussion."

"We'll check with the doctor tomorrow to make sure, anyway," he decided, checking his phone to see the time.

"Okay, bossy," I said rudely, rolling my eyes.

"You used to like when I was bossy," he answered knowingly, wandering over to the kitchen and flipping on the lights. He could still see me due to the open concept and hear me as easily as if we were sitting side by side. He rustled through the fridge and pantry, making shuffling noises with his movements.

"I did not," I answered, blushing at the statement. It was true that his discipline was endearing to me when I was younger, given that no one else seemed to be paying attention to anything I did. When he told me to dress more conservatively after seeing me go out one night with friends, I listened. When he convinced me not to get a tattoo of a rapper I liked on my arm, I agreed without question. I didn't know that he noticed.

"You did," he countered a minute later, walking over with two plates of food. There was a taco on each plate, along with a smattering of chips on the side. A small pile of salsa soaked into the tortilla from a corner of the plate.

 "Did you just make this?" I asked in shock. I dove into the warm meal, realizing that the beeping I heard before was the sound of the microwave.

"No, it was leftovers I had from earlier. You don't mind sharing, right?" he asked. I shook my head with a smile.

"But you're changing the subject," he said, after we had each taken a couple bites.

"Am not."

"You're doing it again," he laughed.

"Why did you like it then but don't like it now?" he asked, and I could hear the genuine desire to understand me imbued in his question. He had been all discipline as my teacher and I had ignored it or bristled at it, uncomfortable with the dynamic.

I looked in the opposite direction from him, examining the frames in the corner of the room. I let my hair fall like a shield between us, to keep me from giving away too much.

I saw the corner of the silver frame; the frame that contained the picture of Bryce, James, and me. He deserved my honesty.

"I don't know," I admitted quietly.

"Okay," he responded graciously, willing to put the question to rest. I sensed the inaudible disappointment in him, and it coerced me to answer to the best of my ability.

"Nobody really cared about me back then. I liked that you did," I replied, flustered. I didn't know if he would take my words seriously or make fun of me like usual. He was quiet, and introspective.

"I can understand that. I always wondered, you know, why you listened to me and not them. Bryce and your dad," he elaborated.

I ate my food quietly while he spoke, giving myself time to think through my answers.

"When my dad made rules, it was because he was concerned about himself. He didn't want his image ruined. Bryce wanted me to get in trouble because he would get off the hook for whatever he had done," I said, voicing my theory.

"That's not true," James defended, sitting up in his seat. I shrugged.

"Bryce cared about you, Addy. I think he just wasn'tready to be the father figure that you needed," James said. I mulled that overin my mind, considering the accuracy of his assessment. It was possible thatBryce was just afraid, but his fear became indifference.

"Maybe you're right, but it doesn't changeanything. He wasn't there. My dad wasn't there. You were," I blurted, unable tohide the reverence that was burning inside of me. He saved me, even if he didn'tknow it. 

James set his half-eaten food on the coffee table and leaned back thoughtfully, running a hand through his hair as he always did when he was perturbed. I tried to see him as my teacher and not my friend, but it was so difficult when his actions reminded me of the boy he once was.

"I should've done more. I shouldn't have let you go back into that house when I learned what he was doing to you," he said. Remorse permeated his statement, and his eyes were filled with shame as he turned to me. I shook my head before he had finished speaking.

"You did so much for me, James. You saved me."

"No, you saved yourself, Adeline."

"I didn't-" I argued. Every time I closed my eyes I pictured my dad in front of me, and the feeling of weakness flooded my body.

"You called him in to the police. You gave your testimony at his trial. You got him locked up. It was all you," he stated, his voice growing in volume.

"I don't know." My voice was weak and skeptical. Images of my imprecise childhood memories flooded back. I saw my father sitting across from me while I sat on the stand, telling the judge and jury what had happened in a shaky voice. My counselor from school sat in the audience, encouraging me to continue speaking.

James leaned towards me, and my memory shattered, bringing me back to the present. I shyly diverted my gaze until I felt a soft but calloused hand press to my chin. James turned my face to look at him. His warm brown eyes were inches away.

"It was you. You are the strongest girl I know," he completed his statement, releasing my chin and looking down. Adoration flushed through me, pushing my brain to wonder if his compliment might be true. I did all the things that he said, but I was only able to do those things because of him. I watched him fiddle with his hands, embarrassed by his declaration. He was willing to make a fool of himself just to prove my strength to me.

I leaned in without warning and the gap between us closed as I acted on my dangerous impulse. The second that his eyes flickered up my lips were pressed softly against his. I moved them gently, wishing I could live in this moment, and that it wouldn't have to end when he realized what I was doing. But suddenly, James responded. I couldn't help the gasp that escaped my lips when I felt his large hand slip to my lower back, pulling me into him. His lips moved against mine our kiss grew in intensity, not delicate and gentle anymore, but a storm of passion as James took the lead. The moment passed and we split apart abruptly, staring at each other in shock.

What just happened?