The Nerd's Dark Side (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 5

Ding dong.

Thomas waits, and the door opens to reveal an older woman, most likely Wes' mother. She glances at the guest, and smiles. "You must be my son's tutor," she says warmly. "Why don't you come in?"

Tutor? Is that what he told her? Thomas thinks as he enters the house that matches the mother's tone. Briefly looking around, he sees the living room looking a little too lived in, what with toys scattered around. 

He hears thumping from the floor above, and he sees a child peeping from the top of the stairs, looking down at him with curiosity. "Are you here for Wes?" he asks. He chews on his fingernails.

"Um, yeah. Is he here?" All of the sudden Thomas feels as if he's being set up for a prank. 

"Yeah." The boy disappears. Soon, Wes appears. 

"Hey, Thomas," he says. "Come on up. The others are in my room."

"Oh, fantastic." Thomas hopes the other guy doesn't pick up the sarcasm. Going up the stairs that creak louder than the crickets at night, Thomas follows Wes to a room in the middle of the hall to the right. "Who's the boy?" he asks.

Wes shrugs. "That's my kid brother, Parker," he says. "He doesn't like to be around people I bring over, whether they're a friend or not."

Don't I kind of know what that's like, Thomas says in his head.

When Wes opens the door, Thomas is instantly hit by the scent of sweat from the others boys. Said boys don't seem to be bothered by the odor, and instead are talking among themselves. One of them manages to crush a Monster can against his head before throwing it across the room.

"Our guest of honor is here!" Wes announces, stopping all activity going on. The boys look towards Thomas' direction, and at least half of them are smiling at the thought of someone finally doing their homework for them.

While deep in his thoughts, Thomas hasn't realized that Wes was talking to him. "Can you say that again?" he asks.

"I said, are you ready to make some money?"

His shoulders slump slightly. "Um, I guess."

Wes grins. "Great. You have an hour to get them done."

******

Thomas walks home with a cramp in his writing hand. He tries his best to massage it, but so far no luck. He drops off his backpack and gets out an icepack from the freezer. He's just placed it over his aching hand when his mom walks in.

His mom looks gaunt with raccoon eyes and deep wrinkles. Her greying hair was once full of thick brown waves, but now hangs from her head like a mop. The clothes she's wearing are less wrinkled than her face and has multiple stains from her job as a mechanic. When the last time she's ever smiled was a mystery.

Thomas watches as his mom unconsciously wipes her hands with a rag. At first it doesn't seem like she acknowledges his presence. It's not until her hands are thoroughly wiped when she says something:

"I got work tonight, kiddo. You gonna be alright being home alone for a while?"

Shifting the ice pack, Thomas nods. "It's happened before," he says.

His mom doesn't respond to what he's said. She puts the rag in her back pocket and shuffles around the dinky kitchen, finding something to eat. Thomas hands her a half-empty bag of bread and some jam from the fridge. She takes both without comment.

Just like that, Thomas is dismissed. Knowing that trying to get her to talk would take some difficulty, he simply went to his room with the ice pack and some crumpled five dollar bills in his front pocket.