The Hopeful, The Hardheaded and the Homework

Chapter 31 : Boiling Point : Enoch

It was as if the entire world had just dissolved around them and all that existed now was she and him. An outlet. That was what he needed and right now that was Olive which was what fuelled him to try what he did and she was kissing him back with equal gusto. It was weird and warm and if he wasn't so frustrated and confused he would been far less confident than he was. Every time Enoch got to hold her like that it felt like she was just the right size against him. Like some ridiculously cheesy analogy about two pieces of a puzzle only much better. He felt her whole body tense up just slightly the moment he dared to ask permission and run his tongue along her lip and very nearly changed his mind and let her go completely. Then half a moment before he could, she responded in kind and Enoch actually felt his heart skip a beat in his chest.
But as quickly as it happened, it was over.

"Yeah. 'E looks real sick ta me."

It was little surprise that neither of them had heard the door open, or any knocking if there had been any at all but the moment a voice cut through, they leapt apart as if a fire had just started underfoot. What little colour there was drained from Enoch's face but Olive's burned redder than her father's firetruck. He wasn't sure whether to be furious or mortified or a little of both. Talk about busted. To be caught out in faking sick was one thing, that would be bad enough in the circumstances, but to be caught faking sick and definitely making out with his girlfriend was much, much worse. If they had been at her house, he would have probably been out on his ear in a second, now, he might just go deaf in one.

His mouth opened and closed wordlessly for a moment while Olive groaned and turned around to hide her face. His father was not impressed. Enoch glanced at the digital clock on his bedside table, he hadn't bargained on his father being home for at least another half an hour. Great. Maybe his would be the next funeral to worry about.

"I didn't know 'avin' an extra tongue in ya mouth 'elped the flu, son."

"Bloody 'ell, Dad! Now?" Enoch growled, running a hand over his face and automatically taking a step to the side to somewhat shield Olive who seemed whole eons more embarrassed than he was. They could at least be decent enough to let her go home before ripping into Enoch about it now especially after yesterday. "She's right 'ere! Don't ya 'ave a go at 'er, she thought I was sick too."

"I'll go, I should go, I'm really sorry." Enoch's eyes flew back to Olive who, still redder than her hair and her lips still slightly glossy, had scurried around him to pick up her bag by the door.

"Yeah. I fink that'd be best." His father didn't so much as look at her, but shook his head at Enoch and kept an ugly, stern glare fixed on him even while he watched Olive instead. She looked back at him from the doorway and smiled a little, whether it was sympathetic or just sad he couldn't quite tell. Then she was gone and the seventeen-year-old finally looked back stonily to his father.

"Do ya worst then. I don't give a crap."

"Ya will, Enoch Reuben O'Connor. I just told ya yesterday 'bout skippin' again and that's what I walk in on."

"We weren't doin' nofin'. Ain't your business anyway."

"No more closed doors, Enoch, I've 'ad it. If she comes ova ta 'study' wiv ya, that's exactly what ya gonna do."

"It's my room, ya can't make me leave the door open." Enoch probably shouldn't have said anything to that because the moment the words left his lips, a warning hand came up and his father looked sterner than he'd ever seen in his life.

"You bloody well watch me, Enoch. Might be a good fing ya finally showin' an interest in a girl but there's more important fings ya needa work on than bein' an 'ormone ridden teenager!"