Started as His Tutor

Wants in Winter

Vincent and Vivian's public statement to go as Winter Formal dates only seemed to intensify their popularity. Vincent gets dragged off by Vivian during lunch to go sit with her friends. I knew better than to go to the cafeteria for lunch after what I witnessed Monday. Vivian showing off Vincent by her side probably wasn't going to help me wash down my lunch. I hide out in the library instead for the rest of the week. It was too snowy outside for me to sit out there. Though, I was tempted to.

On Tuesday, I just walked into the library and slept openly at one of the tables. The librarian woke up and up and told me that I had to be doing homework or school work of some sort. She didn't sound so happy, so I reluctantly pulled out some math homework. The following days, I would sit in a far seat in a corner facing her, prop up a huge textbook, and nod off behind it. After a couple of days, I got into the habit of flipping the pages while half asleep, so the librarian won't get suspicious of me. It was uncomfortable to have to hold up a textbook the whole time while I napped though.

Vincent caught onto the fact that I walk home even though he insists to drive me. So, lately, he's been waiting for me outside of my last class at the end of the day. I'm not sure how he gets there before the bell rings. His last period is on the other side of school.

Strangely, Friday afternoon, Vincent drops me off at home without any detours. He told me had to do something important. I question him any further. My thought was that he was probably going to buy clothes for the Winter Formal. That day, I did almost all of my homework. Something in my gut was bothering me, so I tried to drown it out with work and studying. I'll barely have any homework left for the rest of the weekend, making it stress-free. Or, at least it should be that way. My chest feels tight and I can't stop thinking about the Winter Formal tonight.

Wilbur's sitting on my pillow again. I gave him his favorite food, strawberries, but he barely nibbled into it. It's a rare phenomena, as rare as me having having a loss of appetite. I have exactly that right now. My can of whipped cream is still filled after three hours of t.v.

My phone's already flooded with social media updates. Everyone's posting pictures and videos of themselves with their friends and in their dresses. On the other hand, my Saturday has consisted of only laying on my bed with an unresponsive turtle. I don't blame Wilbur though. I'm really boring. However, I'm tempted to try to do things with him, but I feel like I'll end up accidentally killing him. I could unknowingly place him in an oven while I bake cookies, or freeze him to death outside in the snow. We decide to stay in the safety and comfort of my room.

Once it's dark out, Dad and Wren finally come home. They didn't tell me where they were going, but they were being pretty secretive about it. I would've cared, but the bucket of fried chicken they brought with them distracted me. My appetite is back. I go back upstairs to put Wilbur back into his tank, and he's finally munching on his strawberry. I feel guilty that I'm always isolating him in my room, so I take him and his strawberry with me. I set them down onto a paper plate that came with the chicken, and place the plate onto the dinner table. That way, I can make sure Wilbur won't crawl off the edge of the table. Dad and Wren exchange confused looks, and they don't talk about it until a while later.

"Wendy, are you okay?" Dad hesitantly asks.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, you're acting weird," Wren bluntly says.

"I'm not."

"You brought your turtle to have dinner with us..." Wren points out.

"I always eat with Wilbur."

"Yeah, in your room."

"Well, what if Wilbur's lonely? Doesn't he deserve to sit at the table sometimes? Is it wrong for him to not want to be lonely? Why are you judging him?"