Saving the Heart

♥ Chapter Four ♥

♥ Chapter Four ♥

    “Sam!” I called out as I pulled my car over to the side of the road, coasting slowly.  He looked over his shoulder, caught sight of my car, and looked forward once more, hunkering down against the winter wind.  Angered, I parked my car and got out, slamming the door behind me.

    “Sam,” I called after him as I jogged to catch up.  “Don’t make me beg.” I could see his shoulders perk up, signifying a smirk on his face.  He still refused to face me.  “Look,” I continued, shoving my numb hands in my pockets.  It was then that I noticed that he didn’t have any gloves on, his fingers exposed to the below freezing temperatures as he held on to his fluorescent light tube.  “Do you want a ride?”

    I was taken aback by my own words, as was Sam.

    He turned around slowly, his eyebrows drawn.  

    “I-It’s really cold outside.” I told him, raising my voice to be heard over the wind.  “How about I give you a ride and we talk about this.”

    “I don’t take charity.” Now he was beginning to sound like one of my brothers.  

    “The school nurse said-”

    “The school nurse doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about,” he interjected.  If he lived in my house that would be a dollar in the swear jar.  I decided to look past his foul language and continue.

    “She’s been hitting on my dad for the last three years…” Sam looked at me curiously.  “Trust me, she’s as lost as you appear to be.” And curiosity distinguished.  Sam turned to leave.  “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that.  Sam.” I jogged to catch up to him, grabbing him by the shoulder and forcing him to look me in the eye.  “Look, I need to get into college and right now you are the only shot I got.”

    “So you are failing english.”

    “No, I’m dyslexic.” I bit my tongue, slightly mad at myself for admitting that to a total stranger.  “I can’t proofread and I don’t understand formats and gerunds and whatever other sentence structure you can have.  Ms. Johnsons trusts that you can teach me, so now I need to too.”

    “Are you going to beg me now?” He asked, smirking.

    “No, but you are going to shut your trap, agree to tutor me, and get in my car before you freeze your hands off.  Deal?” Sam tilted his head, thinking it over for a bit before nodding it off.

    “Deal.” He sighed.  I couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of my freezing lips, hurting my windburned cheeks.  

    “Good,” I told him, “because I’m freezing.”  Sam rolled his eyes as he followed me back to my car.  I slid into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut, blowing into my cold hands.  Sam got in the passenger side and sat the light tube on his lap, watching me curiously.  

    “I have bad circulation,” I told him.  He just nodded it off and looked straight ahead.  “So,” I started awkwardly.  Not only was there a boy in my car, but he was a boy that I had never really talked to.  “Um...where are we headed?” I asked as I put my car into drive and pulled out onto the road.

♥♥♥

   

    I pulled up to the side of the road.  The street was battered with potholes and felt as if it had never seen a snow plow before as I tried to pull up to the relatively non existent curb.

    “This one?” I asked, pointing to an old brick building wedged in between two others.  It seemed relatively out of place, only rising two stories and sporting a window on either side of its red front door.  Well, what appeared to have once been red.  Now the steps leading up to it were cracked and rotted away.

    Sam nodded as I put my car in park.  I flexed my fingers around the steering wheel.  They had gone white from standing outside earlier and had never gone back.  I had always had bad circulation and a cold steering wheel was doing nothing in the form of helping it.

“Meet me in the library after school, bring a draft of your essay.” Sam deadpanned as he got out of the car.  He was about to close the door before he leaned down to add something, “ and it helps if you run them under warm water.” My eyebrow rose as Sam rolled his eyes and nodded in my direction.  “Your hands.” He added before slamming the car door just a tidge too hard and starting up the battered steps to his house.  

    I looked down at my white fingers.  before glancing back up at where Sam used to be, but he had already disappeared inside.  I could hear the yapping of a small dog, someone yelling with a high raspy voice.

    Warm water.  What on earth was he doing giving me advice?

    My phone vibrated in my pocket before I could answer my own question.

    ‘Where are you?’ read my text from my little brother Wesley.

    ‘Is dad home?’ I replied, not giving him an answer as I set my phone on the dash and pulled away from Sam’s building.  The feel of the neighborhood in itself gave me the creeps.

    My phone vibrated again and I picked it up, reading my next message.

    ‘Don’t play stupid.’

    ‘Don’t play smart,’ I replied as I stopped at a red light.  ‘I’ll be home in fifteen, don’t burn anything down.’

    I put my phone back on the dash and took a right, heading out of town and to the home where I grew up.  A golden yellow three story house with expansive and rather expensive interior design.  My mother used to be all for culture, saying that if we gave up on it, brilliant ideas would simply be wasted by monotony.  That and we could afford it.

    My phone vibrated again, but I chose to ignore it.  I was okay with the idea of texting when stopped, but out of city limits with the wind pelting the side of my car and pushing me down the road in all of the wrong directions, I didn’t dare take the chance.

    I pulled up my long gravel driveway and up to our three stall garage, taking my respectable parking spot and pressing the garage door button to close the automatic door behind me.  I grabbed my junk out of my car and slammed the door, looking around the damp and rather dark garage.

    My father’s truck was no where to be seen, as usual.  It wasn’t anything new to any of us.  Mom used to always be home.  A psychologist, she was often engrossed in her work, but she never missed a family meal.  It meant the world to her.

    I entered my home and threw my bags down in the entryway, stashing my phone in my back pocket before announcing that I was home, not like anyone could hear me.

    “Hey Wesley.” I called out as I walked into the living room.  I approached my little adopted brother from behind as he lay out on the floor on his belly, engrossed in his homework.  The TV ran in the background with some silent movie, the music playing as the actors dramatically ran across the black and white screen.  

    I strolled over to the fridge and grabbed a frozen pizza, throwing it onto the counter before starting up the oven and starting around the island in our kitchen.  I stopped at the sink, looking down on my cold white fingers.  Just maybe...

    “Wesley.” I called out.  As always, he didn’t move an inch.  I smiled before going over to my little brother and ruffling his curly blonde hair.  

    He rolled onto his side, smiling up at me.

    “Frozen pizza?” I asked and signed at the same time.  

    ‘Sure’ Wesley signed back.  

    “That’s what I thought.” I told him and gestured for him to get back to his work before taking a seat on the couch, watching his movie and listening to the orchestrated music.  

    I pulled my phone out of my pocket to reveal six missed messages from Tricia.  Great.