Bridging The Gap

↣ Sage Richards ↢

He doesn't smell of cigarettes, even though he's been out here smoking for god knows how long. Tyler Morgan isn't someone that I was ever planning to get affiliated with, but after my conversation with Mrs. Richards I can tell that he needs serious help, and that fact is proven by his appearance. His face is covered in disgusting bruises and scars that run from his chin to his forehead, almost like rivers flowing up the side of his face.

"So." He fondles his cigarettes, playing with the flap. I've never spoken to or heard him speak before this encounter. I figured I'd have to sit there awkwardly as he just stared at me, but he's chosen to talk. He's chosen to communicate. His eyes don't meet mine when he turns his head towards me. Instead, he focuses on the bark behind my head.

"You know," I begin, "that you might actually be passing your classes if you decided to attend every once in a while." Tyler and I have several classes together, most of which I've never actually seen him in. The last time that I have actually examined Tyler Morgan in class was third grade, but even then all he did was sleep, drool pouring from his half opened mouth.

He shrugs, obviously not caring for what I have to say, "you might actually know how to live a little if you got out of the classroom every once in a while."

"Excuse me."

He shifts so that he's sitting on his knees, stationed straight in front of me. "You heard me, princess. The only reason you've agreed to this little tutoring job is because you have nothing else to do with your life."

I'd offer a rebuttal, but he's right for the most part. I was exicted to take this tutoring job from my mother, Mrs. Richards, positively sure that it'd boost my standing with the staff and also the community. Being able to get Tyler Morgan to commit to school would skyrocket me to instant stardom in the small community that we live in.

"Exactly what I thought." He sits back on his butt, flinching slightly, and I can't help but wonder what it is exactly that happened to him that made him look like this, but I don't have the guts to ask, so I just watch while he fumbles with another cigarette, already having the lighter ready.

"Those can kill you, you know." I point out, already sure that he's aware of the effects of the harmful smoke on your lungs. Most smokers are, yet the temptation of the stick offers too much promise, too much relaxation. He sighs, ignoring my warning and lighting up the stick anyway.

He slowly inhales and then holds on to the toxic substance and then he exhales, slowly, pointing his mouth and the toxins it contains my way. He laughs as I cough on the disgusting air.

I rise quickly, walking away from him and the tree. "Call me when you get serious about your education," I yell.

"Oh, sweetheart, you'll be waiting for a long while."

I ignore his words, stomping my way through the empty halls and right up to ,my mother's door. She's sitting behind her desk, clacking away at the computer when I walk in and her smile is absolutely radiating. "Sage. I didn't expect you back so soon. Did you find Tyler?"

I slump in to the seat across from her, "I did, and he's unbearable. He's outside smoking."

She nods, turning her attention away from the computer and finally meeting my eyes with hers. I've always wished to have my mother's looks, but instead I've been stuck with my father's: bushy eyebrows, too big butt, too big forehead. However, my mother did give me amazing hair, that I've kept right around shoulder length, and her eyes. "He is quite a handful, but he's had a colorful past."

"A colorful past," I object, "doesn't give him the right to be a jerk." Rumors have been haywire since Tyler Morgan returned to the public education system. As mentioned before, Tyler and I had third grade together, but after that year he basically went missing from the face of the planet. Some say that his parents divorced, leaving him in the middle and he ran off. Others claim that he was taken in by a gang, taught to survive on his own.

The second story would explain the bruises that continue to appear on his face, but Tyler has never shared the true story of his bizarre seven year absence from our school. However, he must have gotten some education or he wouldn't be here, in our high school.

"Sage, honey, just be patient with him."

I force a smile, "sure."