Imaginary Boyfriend

Chapter 15: Tutoring

               "So you're actually going to tutor this kid?" 

               I grimaced at his disapproving tone. "Well... yeah. Why not? I'm a teacher, I'm supposed to help my students."

               Sam didn't look convinced. Sighing, he said, "But the dad! Doesn't he have some creepy crush on you, or something?"

               "Those are only rumours," I pointed out, stuffing English books and test papers into my bag before slinging it over my shoulder. In a softer voice, I added, "Are you going to be okay, Sammy? On your own, I mean."

               Sam looked surprised. "I am a grown adult!"

               "Aw!" I cried, pinching his cheeks and grinning playfully at him. "I was only kidding! But seriously, no horror movies and be in bed by ten!"

               "Ten?" he replied dryly, giving me a flat stare. "Really? Ten?"

               "You have school tomorrow," I reminded him, flicking his nose. He glowered at me, turning beet red. "Wish me luck!"

               "Good luck," he muttered, and I hurried out of the apartment before he threw me out.

**

               With a scowl, I knocked on the huge, wooden door. All of a sudden, I didn't feel too well. There was a queasy feeling in my stomach as I heard a crash, a shout and then footsteps, coming towards the door. I imagined Craig had broken something and probably hurt himself in the process.

               Why had I agreed to this? I would probably get so riled up that I'd ended up banging a dictionary against Craig's head. And because his brain was so tiny and useless, it probably wouldn't even make a difference.

               Just as I was considering ditching, the door swung open, revealing Rhys in a woman's apron and holding a broom.

               "Hello!" he chirped, standing to the side so I could get inside. 

               "Hey," I said, stepping inside. 

               Now I knew why Rhys was wearing an apron with daisies. The smell whiffing through the air was mouth-watering. And I also knew why he was carrying a broom - looking creepily like a witch.

               The place was spotless. It seemed he had cleaned almost everything. There was no dust to be seen on the carpet - except for some broken glass, which a sneaking suspicion told me had something to do with Craig. The walls were gleaming. I was actually quite impressed.

               "Your house is nice," I said lamely with a grin. "So um, where's Craig?"

               "In his room," said Rhys, winding an arm around my waist to lead me upstairs. I didn't particularly enjoy the proximity, and the smell of his breath wafting in my ears, but I didn't complain. We stopped in front of a room with a red door. 

               I assumed it was Craig's room from the sign:

               Craig's Room. Enter at your own risk.

               Loud music blasted from inside there and even though were on the other side, it still hurt my ears. Pulling a face, Rhys stepped forward and knocked lightly. I managed to resist the urge to roll my eyes. With no luck, Rhys tried again.

               It was no surprise that nobody answered with all that music booming so, with a light shove against Rhys, I raised my fist high and pounded on the door with as much force as I could muster.