Keep Your Enemies Close

Chapter Eight What Lies Ahead

It was a chilly Wednesday evening, and I was supposed to tutor Rich. It had been our deal. I was the lead if I'd tutor him. Though I had a feeling he would have given me the role anyway. This was just a common courtesy. But if only he'd answer his damn door! I hoped he had texted me the right address.

I'd knocked several times, rung the doorbell and yelled 'hello?' like a desperate person. A guy mowing the lawn in the neighbor's yard had even shot me a weird look. I waved to him sarcastically.

Actually, as if things couldn't get any more weird, Rich came up from behind me, casually walking up his porch steps.

"Oh, uh, hey Mabel! Sorry, I had to go do something, and it took longer than I thought." It wasn't very convincing.

Rich's black hair was in a tiny ponytail, and a sliver of hair was loose around his face. He looked ambushed by me, which was startling since I was supposed to tutor him. Maybe he just rarely had anyone over.

I crossed my arms.

"Well, thanks for making me wait here for twenty minutes ringing the doorbell."

Rich smiled guiltily. "Sorry. Even though my dad's in there, he won't answer the door."

I groaned. "Why not?"

Rich shrugged, which made me more annoyed.

"He's locked away in his room, writing plays and stories and who knows what. He probably didn't hear it. Sorry, though."

He walked by me and proceeded to unlock the door with his heavy key rack. The rack was made up of like twenty keys!

"Why so many keys?"

Rich stood on his feet unsteadily, rocking back and forth.

"My dad and I share keys. He works at different departments and has different offices." I nodded. It was a lot of keys.

"So you haul all that around then pass it to him over there when you're done?" I asked.

"Um, yeah. Pretty much. Can we get moving now?" He asked, holding the door wide open for me.

I stepped in through the doorframe, immediately engulfed in a maple wood smell. Everything was wooden. The floor, the bookshelf, coffee table, and even the rocking chair in the corner. I took off my long coat, and Rich took it from me to hang up.

Today I was wearing an orange woolen sweater and black leggings with Ugg boots. My outfit even seemed to match some of the decor in his house. It was all so seasonal and festive. We stood in front of the door in silence.

"I can make hot chocolate, if you want." I smiled politely and kicked off my Uggs.

"That would be great." Rich closed the door and headed into the kitchen. I turned left, which led directly into the living room.

There was an enormous wooden bookshelf with old books at least a decade old. They looked so dusty, you could likely drown in it. Minutes went by as I took in all my surroundings.

I examined everything to the mistletoe on the fireplace to a bright red rug on the ground that seemed to have some sort of Asian writing on it.

"My dad got that from a Japanese producer," Rich told me as he emerged from the kitchen, handing me a cup of cocoa.

I shivered as I took the warm cup in my cold hands. I smiled brightly.
"Thanks."

Rich nodded nervously.
"So, why'd he give him a rug?" I asked.

"He had implied that it would make any room less tense and more colourful."

I sipped from my cocoa, and Rich did the same. We at down on the fluffy couch at the same time. He looked extremely nervous, tapping his fingers on his knee.