Pulse

19

school is a series of uncounted days with no messages from Mike, just like before. Charlie started driving me after the first two nights I slept at his house, with no question as to when I'm going back home. The weekend was slow and boring, sitting in the apartment by myself. This morning was particularly bad as I remembered what my school counselor told me about having a tutor this week. Charlie practically dragged me out of the apartment just to go to school, and now with my head pressed against the glass window of his Subaru, I give him the silent treatment.

"What could be so bad?" Charlie asks, nudging me from his seat. I shrug and continue staring at the houses passing by.

"Austin, cut it out." He says, annoyance clear in his voice. "I can't have a tiny sixteen year old girl sitting in my apartment surrounded by drug addicts."

I roll my eyes, confused as to when Charlie started thinking he was the boss of me or something.
The most we've done is cuddle (sort of), share cigarettes. He asked if I was his girlfriend the other night and I shrugged my shoulders. Why not? Im always at his apartment. He looked hurt, and angry. He didn't question my careless attitude towards the question, but he also didn't talk to me for the rest of the night, and when it was time to sleep it didn't feel the same. He was tense. The truth is, I don't care either way. What's the point? I liked the change. Being close to someone who doesn't really ask questions. Even if I feel nothing for them.

When he stops in front of my school I sink slowly down in my chair and give Charlie a pleading look. He cocks an eyebrow and waits for me to get out.

"well?" He asks impatiently. I sigh and cross my arms defensively.

"Get. out." Charlie says. I look away from him, obviously ignoring everything he says. He growls and tips his head back in his chair, still waiting. After a solid minute of me not moving or saying anything he leans over and opens my door for me. I roll my eyes and step out of the car, scowling at him in the process.

****

Today isn't the day to mess with me. Annoyance is swimming through my veins from the sound and the movement and just literally everything. Stress about Charlie, my parents, Mike and Sarah is enough to weigh me down, and sitting in the library waiting for my tutor is enough to make me want to rip my hair out. The thought of it being some obnoxious girl from class, or worse, a loud over-confident guy set on boosting his extra credit by tutoring spaced out weirdos like me, is enough to make me want to vomit.

I try everything in my power to avoid thinking about my mystery tutor. I chew my pencil, my nails, my hoodie laces. I fumble with my dusty textbooks; untouched pieces of word garbage. I go so far as to even open one and read a few paragraphs.
However, nothing I do seems to be enough to fend off the gnawing panic that seems to be pricking my brain, and I find myself stealing glances at the big clock hung directly obove the librarians head.
Whoever this mystery tutor is, they're late.