I Hate you More Than Tacos on Thursday

5: Tutoring? More Like Hell!

If I had known how horrible it would be tutoring Adam, I wouldn't have even bothered in the first place. 

"What do you mean? What the fuck is a parabola?!" Adam, currently in mental break-down mode with his hands trying to rip his black as night hair out of his head, screams.

"Would you shut your mouth?" I scream back in a whisper. "My father is gonna wake up with all of your screaming." It was true, the man was passed out drunk in his recliner downstairs.

"It's not my fault I didn't take algebra when I was in eighth grade!" Adam whisper-yells back.

"Actually, yes it is! Maybe if you had, I don't know, studied for your tests, then they wouldn't be making you take it again this year!"

"Fuck this!" Adam yells, throwing his pencil across my room and backing up against the wall, head in his hands. "I'm fucking dumb and I'll never get into a good college. I'll be stuck working at McDonald's trying to pay rent and feed my two cats!"

I suddenly feel a twinge of sympathy for him and crawl towards him. I pry his hands from his head, clasping them in my own. 

He looks up at me, blue eyes tearing up.

It rips my heart in half. I've never really liked seeing people cry, it makes me want to strangle whoever made them do it. It might be because I've experienced so much pain myself, and I don't want it to happen to anyone else. 

"Adam." I say his name in a consoling voice, which surprises me. "You're not stupid or idiotic or ignorant or any of those things. You're just stuck in a hard place, and I swear to you I will drag you out of it. I just need you to cooperate with me."

Adam sniffles, cracking a smile. "And here I am thinking you hated me." He jokes, laughing.

With that, I rip my hands out of the hold I had on him, my face burning red. "Yeah, I still hate you." I take a lengthy pause, and connect my eyes with his, gaze softening a bit. "But maybe not as much as I did before."

Adam smirks at me, looking up at me through his thick dark eyelashes. "You're not half bad, Tomato-Face." 

I glare. "Get out of my house, Adam."

He only laughs. "What? I thought you would drag me out of my bad grades?" He teases, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Did I say that? I must have forgot." I smile. "Seriously, though. I think after this big blow-out you need to go recollect yourself, and I need to get a rest from dealing with your incompetent ass."

"Oh, so I'm not stupid, an idiot or ignorant, just incompetent. Whatever, Aldrich. I'll see you tomorrow for Taco Bell." Adam says, chuckling as he picks up his bag.

"Right." I nod, and walk him to the door.

"Hey, James?" He asks when I'm opening the door for him.

He's using my real name. Shit. "Y-yeah?" I stutter.

"Charlie, you know, the girl from the diner? Have you called her by any chance?"

She hadn't even crossed my mind since we'd left yesterday. Why was that?

"James?" Adam asks, waving his hand in front of my face. 

I snap out of my thoughts. "Hm? O-oh. I guess... she's just not my type." I try to shrug it off.

Adam looks mildly confused before smirking at me, leaning against the door frame. "Oh?" He asks smugly, raising an eyebrow. "And what is your type, Nice Guy?"

I stammer, blushing for some reason. I shove him out the door. "I-I thought I told you to get out of my house." I then slam the door, sinking down it's length. I thread my fingers through my hair, pulling on the strands. 

What is happening to me?