** REWRITING ** Tidal Wave

Chapter Seventeen

My second tutoring session with Grayson. He had insisted on coming to me this time. I hadn't complained. The last time at his house had been disastrous. For me, anyways. I took a deep breath as I opened the door. Grayson's smiling face awaited me.

"Hey Ellie," he said as he stepped inside. He didn't give me a chance to take a step back and my body brushed against his. He didn't seem to notice. But I did.

"Hey." My mom appear around the corner.

"Where to?" Grayson asked me and then nodded to my mom.

"My room," I said, gesturing to the stairs. Grayson took a step towards them.

"Door's open," my mom warned with a meaningful glance in my direction.

I rolled my eyes and Grayson laughed. "Oh, don't worry Ms. Parker. Ellie and I aren't like that."

"What are you like?" My mother asked, curious, as she took another step into the foyer.

"Friends," I answered quickly, wanting out of this conversation.

Now it was Grayson's turn to deliver someone, aka me, a look. "Good friends."

I rolled my eyes again. "Yes, good friends. Gray, let's go."

My mom laughed. "See you later, Grayson."

"Bye, Ms. Parker," Grayson said with a sweet wave as he climbed the steps in front of me.

He weaved through the hallways until we got to mine.

"Second door on the--"

"Left," Grayson finished for me as he placed his hand on the doorknob. The door opened revealing vibrant purple walls and all white furniture. Long gone were the boy-band posters and displays of Barbie dolls. I took those down as soon as I got back.

Grayson flopped down on my new comforter. "Nice redecoration."

"I do what I can," I answered sarcastically and made my way over to my desk, looking for my Calculas folder.

"Hey, remember when that guy with wierd hair and the high pitched voice was right here?"

I looked over my shoulder to my old prime poster spot. "Justin Bieber?"

"Yeah, yeah. That guy. What ever happened to him?" Grayson asked as he went back over to my bed.

I shrugged. "Fizzled out after his big break, I guess."

"Good thing. I had a feeling that kid was going to turn out bad."

I laughed. "Oh please. He was the sweetest thing."

"All I knew was that he couldn't stay that sweet for long."

I rolled my eyes. "You were just jealous."

"Of his hair? No. The way you fawned over him everyday? Yes."

My chair squeaked as I spun to face him. "Oh, come on. I wasn't that obssesed."

He laughed. "Yeah, that's why you made me pretend to be him everytime I offered to play with you."

I playfully rolled my eyes."I did not."

"You did."

I raised one of my eyebrows. "Proof?"

"There is none."

"See! Then I didn't do it." Grayson didn't respond. He was flat on his back, his eyes focused up above. "Whatcha looking at?"

He pointed to the ceiling. I laid next to him on the bed, keeping a good few inches between us. "Oh." When I was about nine, I started to make a photo collage on my ceiling. It was pretty cool actually. My dad had let me use his special painters glue and I had carefully placed each one next to eachother, in a grid formation. Needless to say, that didn't last for long. Now each photo overlapped another. It started just above my bed and grew like a blog to my door.