Johnny Depp: Short Stories

Tom Hanson (Fluff)

The snowflakes outside painted the ground white as you made your way to the exit door.

     You'd had to stay until four thirty, for an after school tutoring session in Social Studies. And now it was dark outside, and you'd have to walk an extra two blocks to get to the nearest bus stop.

      It sucked, not having a car. At least you could drive.

      "Great." You muttered. After zipping your coat up better, you approached the door.

       "Y/N!"

       You whirled around.

       Tom Gilmore, the new student in your Math class, was walking towards you. He wore a black slim winter coat, and a tuque. His brown eyes were lit with surprise.

        "What are you still doing here?" He asked, "It's freezing out, and it's dark."

        "I could ask you the same thing." You retorted, and he smiled bashfully. "I got into some trouble with Jeffrey Stone, but it's nothing. What about you?"

         "Mr. Reeds had an after school tutoring session for Social Studies." I explained, and he chuckled. "I missed my bus, which I knew would happen, but now I gotta walk to the next bus stop."

          He put a hand on your forearm, stopping you. "Wait, you don't have to walk home. I'm headed somewhere anyways, and I could drop you off." He offered.

         Something about Tom Gilmore didn't sit right. He didn't seem shady, for example. But in the back of your mind, for some reason, you felt that there was something off about him.

         Sure, he was very smart, and kind. But he was also good looking, and his hair always looked great.

       You guys had become acquainted when he sat next to you in Math, which, along with Phys. Ed, were the only subjects you had together.
   
        Plus, it was freezing outside. It honestly wasn't worth it to wait for the bus at this rate.

        "Alright then, thank you, Tom." You replied, and you both walked to the door, which he opened and let you out first.

        "I promise, on my life, that I'm not a murderer." He put one hand to his chest, the other he held out, as if taking an oath.

        His dark eyes were clear as he looked at you.

        "I believe you, Tom. Now let's go, I'm gonna get hypothermia."

         "Right behind you, Y/N."

         When you got to his blue car, he quickly unlocked it and brushed the snow off with a snow brush from his trunk. Then he let you go into the front passenger seat, while he brushed off the rest of it.

         Once he got in, he let it warm up for a bit. There was nothing out of the ordinary in his car. "You okay there?"

         "I'm good, Tom, thank you." You replied, rubbing your hands together.

         He flashed a smile. "No problem, no problem."

         A moment of silence passed, save for the whistling of the wind outside. You'd forgotten your gloves at home when you left for school this morning, and had to resort to tucking your sleeves in to cover your hands.

         Tom, meanwhile, had slim black gloves on, tapping them thoughtfully against the steering wheel.

          Of course he was prepared. He was one of the smart kids in class, his score on the board outside after every exam nearly perfect. 

          "You ready?" He asked, once it was warm enough. He pulled out of the stall. "Ready. " you said.

          "Okey-dokey." He drove off, listening to your directions and driving carefully. It was so icy, he nearly swerved a few times from turning.

           "I hate winter." You shook your head in distaste. "I prefer autumn or spring. "

          "I like summer the best." Tom shrugged, turning left onto the main road you took to get to school, "Spring has so many mosquitoes."

           "So does summer." You chuckled. "It's not as bad, depending where you are." He reasoned.

           You glanced at him, seeing his sharp jawline and his side profile. There was a nagging in the back of your head, but you couldn't put your finger on what seemed off about him.

          For one thing, he was way better looking than most of the guys at school.

         "Enjoying the view?" He eyed you, before slowing to a stop. "And then turn right here?"

          You blinked a few times, before glancing around and nodding. "Yes, right on this street and the third house on the right."

           "Okey-dokey." He replied, a smirk on his lips, but you rolled your eyes playfully.

            He pulled up in front of your house, just on the sidewalk, and stopped the car.

           You grabbed your backpack, and unclipped yourself. "Thank you, Tom." You smiled.

           He nodded, shrugging. "You're welcome, Y/N. I'll see you tomorrow."

          "You too. We also have Phys. Ed too. Maybe we'll play dodgeball." You wondered. You got out, and before shutting the door, he said, "Maybe. If so, I'll beat you. Just know that."

         "Oh, you're on!" You challenged. "My team will win." He declared. "Bye, Y/N."

        "Bye, and thank you again." You laughed.

         He waved goodbye, before you shut the door and walked inside.

           You peeked out of the peephole and saw that he made sure you were safely in your house before his car drove off.

           Leaning back against the door, you smiled and shook your head again. Maybe you were thinking about this all wrong.

           Maybe there wasn't anything weird about Tom Gilmore.

           Maybe he wasn't the bad guy, after all.

*I love that edit of him, by the way ^