Nathan Kingston has been forgotten by the world. A dad that fucked off when he was young and a mother gone days at a time with work he feels alone. Especially since he goes to the most elite private school in the city on scholarship. He's falling do...
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Nathan Kingston
The rest of my time at the Matthews house was spent doing exactly what I promised Ivy I would do, be there for her while her and the rest of her family while they crying their eyes out over the 24th anniversary of her aunt's passing. When the night was coming to a close, and most of their tears over the horrific accident were winding down the news came back on, saying that the roads are once again safe to drive on and stores and restaurants would open as normal on Saturday.
The notion saddened me much more than I thought it would. A month ago I would've thought that I would rather be at home surrounded by only my own company than in a house surrounded by people I'd only met weeks beforehand, but I was wrong. The house was never quiet and every aspect of the house and the people in it gave such a welcoming atmosphere to even the most isolated of them all.
But I didn't have an excuse to stay in their house anymore.
After assuring a teary-eyed Ivy that I would be fine driving home on my bike in the minimal snow and I wouldn't die in a horrific motorcycle crash I wrapped myself up in my warm layers and grabbed my helmet out of their front hall closet.
The streets were mostly empty on my ride home, most people probably still choosing to stay in their houses until stores open back up.
The hypnotizing environment around me contributed to my weird feeling, my mind was not on the road at all and instead focused on the icy-eyed girl I'd just left in her foyer. We hadn't talked about what would happen between us after the snow cleared and things went back to normal.
Would we go back to me just tutoring her? Should I ignore anything that happened between us? Does she want more? Does she want nothing to do with me? Am I reading too far into this?
My head has never been swirling with so many questions.
My mind is still completely distracted as I roll my bike into our storage unit and lock it up, starting the trek up the five flights of stairs to my apartment while I take my phone out of my pocket to send an important text before I forget.
To Ivy Matthews: I'm home.
• • •
The weekend flew by in a similar state of hypnosis. I worked all day both Saturday and Sunday and with the number of mistakes I made each shift because of how distracted, I was you would think they were my first shifts instead of shifts I've been working for the last four years. Even Hugo thought I was on drugs because I barely responded to him when we were at the gym and didn't laugh when he was making fun of me for how much I'm worrying about Ivy.
Safe to say that I'm a wreck because now it's Monday morning, four days since I've last seen her and I'm nervous. This girl has pretty much thrown me on my head and I don't know what to do about it.
