Chapter Four

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Samuel sat in his room after another day at school, and helping Trevor with his assignments afterward. He was writing at his desk in his room as he ate his dinner for the night, until he'd heard a knock on his door. "Come in," he called, not even bothering to look away from his paper.

His mom opened the door, and she smiled. "Thank you, for the blanket last night Sammy," she said. Her voice was sweet and singsong, and every time she spoke, Samuel was reminded of the lullaby she'd sang when he was little. He blessed her with a small, reserved smile. "Thank you for the dinner last night. It was really good."

"Please, it was only a steak and mashed potatoes."

"And the blanket I gave you was just an ordinary blanket."

His mother laughed and kissed his cheek. "Still. Thank you," she said. She went to leave, but turned to face "By the way, tonight is the second night in a row you've been late coming home. Did something happen?"

Samuel set his pencil down, to give her his undivided attention. "Yes. I meant to tell you last night, but Mr. Fisher's given me Tutoring responsibilities, so I have to stay after school for a little while to do that."

His mother's eyebrows shot up. "Oh!" Her eyes furrowed as she continued. "I thought you didn't care for any extracurricular activities?"

Samuel shook his head, crossed his arms, and slumped in his desk chair. "I don't. I was forced into this because I don't have any extracurricular activities."

His mother crossed her arms as well, but leaned against the wall. "Are you able to get out of it?"

Samuel shrugged. "I can try, but I feel that would be wasting my efforts and my time."

His mother turned toward the door. "Well, it doesn't hurt to try."

Samuel leaned forward to pick up his pencil again. "True."

His mother glanced over her shoulder. "Who are you tutoring?" she asked.

Samuel paused before answering. "Trevor Summers."

His mother whirled on him. "Are you kidding me?! Trevor Summers?!"

Without missing a single beat; without looking away from his paper. "Yes, Trevor Summers. The same one who used to bully me in middle school. I know how bad it sounds, but I have to do this. I have to see this through."

His mother crossed her arms again. "And why is that?"

Samuel still didn't look away. "Because Mr. Fisher says. He won't let me change anything just because I don't want to."

His mother shook her head. "Mr. Fisher is a hopeless piece of ass," she said as she left the room, slamming the door in the process.

"Language, Mother," Samuel called after her. He looked up and stared at the door for a moment, before slumping in his chair again, and groaning. "I hate this," he muttered.

He finished his essay, and his meal, got into his pajamas, and went to bed.

He stared off in the dark, unable to force his eyes closed. He sighed. "What subject will we work on tomorrow?" he asked himself. He ran through all the subjects Trevor had left to work on, aside from English, trying to pick one at random.

His mind had been so busy doing that, he hardly noticed when his eyes had finally fallen shut, and he fell asleep.

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