INCIPIENT

five - EVA

Mandag 19:09 | Monday 7:09 pm

Eva

"What took you so long?" A bit of annoyance creeps into my voice as I ask him. I thought he was going to get here earlier, not right now. Not to mention it's already seven! Who in their right mind comes over for homework help at such a late hour?

He rolls his eyes as he walks in and I close the door behind him, "I guess you can say I had, uh, things to take care of." He awkwardly breaks eye contact and looks around the house, looking at anything but me.

Weird.

"O-kay." I furrow my eyebrows and try not to pay too much attention to his awkwardness or the fact that he looks so uncomfortable. It's unlike him to be awkward or uncomfortable, he's anything but that.

He nods his head and stays quiet.

Chris's uncomfortableness is making me uncomfortable so I start doing one of the many things I'm known to do when I'm in a situation like this. I start rubbing my hands along my arms. Noora was the one to notice how fidgety I got whenever we were around the Pepsi Max gang, and soon, she began to notice that it happened whenever I got called on in Spanish class too. She realized that it only happened when I was uncomfortable and my fidgety self appeared through multiple ways; whether it was through the tapping of my foot – or sometimes both – the cracking of my knuckles, the rubbing of my hands along my arms, the biting of my lip or the inside of my cheek, or moving from side to side, it was always there. And I couldn't help it now with Chris.

"So..." I trail off as he finally looks at me, "that math homework."

He clears his throat. "So.."

"So.." I awkwardly repeat. "Where do you want to work on it?"

He looks around the living room and the kitchen, his eyes traveling throughout the empty house. "Your mom's not here right?"

"She's not."

"Your room?" He suggests and I reply with a simple hum of my lips.

We walk from the living room over to the basement, also known as my bedroom. Chris walks over to the rolly chair and quietly takes out the math worksheet from his backpack, all the while bobbing his knee.

He's acting too strange and the question falls out of my lips before I even have the chance to contemplate it, "Are you okay?"

He seems to be caught off guard as he furrows his eyebrows, "Why? Are you worried about me?"

Not what I was expecting.

"You're acting weird," I say and don't answer his question. I've got to admit, I kind of am worried about him, it's not in his nature to act so strange. Chris just isn't like that, he's always loud and flirty, never quiet.

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, one hand running through his silky, dark hair. He lets out a shaky breath and finally looks at me, "I haven't told anyone about it, not even William."

So he hasn't told William about it? Who happens to be his best friend? Now I'm starting to feel slightly nervous and uncomfortable. What could possibly have him so worked up?

I nod in understanding, afraid that if I speak I'll say something that I didn't want to be said out loud.

"What's wrong?" I ask him as softly as I can.