The Unwanted Tutor

Chapter 14

I woke up around ten when the sunlight came through the curtains.

I stretched and turned around, feeling an empty space next to me. I looked at the wrinkled sheets and wondered where Anthony was.

My jaw was sore but I found myself not against the idea of doing what we did yesterday again. It was like a craving, a painful craving.

"Anthony?" I said as I traveled downstairs.

"I'm down here, Garrett!" He called from the kitchen.

My heart started to race at the sound of his voice, I hurried downstairs and walked into the kitchen where he was looking around in the fridge.

"All this garbage in here, don't you have any diet coke or something?" He asked as he shoved the milk carton out of his way.

"We should have some downstairs, I can get one for you." I said.

"Yeah, would you? I have a headache, I need some caffeine."  He placed a hand on his forehead and shut the door.

"We have a coffee maker you know," I pointed to it in the corner.

"Yes, but I have a habit of making too much. I've always done it, my mother made my brother start making her coffee in the morning for that reason." Anthony smiled halfheartedly.

I shuffled out of the kitchen and headed downstairs to get Anthony's soda. When I came back, I handed him the can and sat down at the table.

"Let me guess," He spoke before I could say anything, "You're hungry."

"Yeah, I'm always hungry." I complained as I put my head down on the table. "I can't believe break's almost over."

"Oh, my. Is it already the twenty seventh? You go back the twenty ninth, correct?" He studied the calendar on the wall.

I grunted in response and picked my head up. "Yeah and my parents don't come back until the eighth."

"Plenty of time." He murmured then looked at me. "I want you to eat something then join me upstairs, alright?"

"Ugh," I groaned, "I'm not used to waking up this early."

"Oh, poor Garrett. Don't you get up early for school?" He patted my head lovingly.

"I'm always late." I muttered and got up from the table. "Well, not really anymore since you've been around."

"Here, let me make you something." He ruffled my hair and walked into the kitchen while sipping from his soda.

I followed him and watched him take out a loaf of bread and butter along with brown sugar.

"My mother used to make this for me. There's something so comforting about the sugar melting on the warm butter. Honestly one of my favorites." He put the bread into the toaster and closed the cabinet.

"It's just bread and butter. Why are you acting like it's the best meal in the world?" I replied as my stomach grumbled.

Anthony looked down at my stomach and smiled, "Your stomach seems to disagree. Doesn't it?" He reached out to rub it.

I backed away from his touch. "You are so weird."

"Isn't everyone?" Anthony turned around as the toaster made a little ding! sound.

I watched him put the toast onto a plate and spread the butter on it. "What was your mom like?"

Anthony paused with the knife in his hand, "She was rather cold to my brother and I, quick to anger and held us to high standards. But, she could be very kind some days, almost motherly. She would shower us with gifts and laugh at our jokes, then the next day there would be no trace of that side of her. I never understood why she did that to us."