The Art of Gravity

NOAH ANDREWS

He was the definition of sin.

His dark, cold demeanor always gave me chills, even if just from a distance.

His eyes were as dark as coal, black empty slates with storms brewing beneath them. His hair was the color of noir, and fell just past his shoulders.

Absolute sin.

And he was standing in my living room.

My eyes flew to my mothers, the unasked question written in my gaze. She smiles at me, like she hasn't done anything that could possibly ruin my entire life.

"I asked him to drive you to school today, Noah."

I blink at her, my eyes shooting towards where Toby stood. I find him staring at me, angry eyes boring into my small and now shaking form. He was just standing there, calm, but I knew better. He was anything but calm.

My hands clenched as I turn back to my mother who shared the same ocean blue eyes as I did. Her hair was a few shades darker than mine, and tied back at her nape.

"Why?" I ask her, because if I didn't know soon, I was sure I'd explode.

She smiles at me, "I need the car today. Your father has to take the other for a business meeting. So, I asked Toby to give you a ride. Isn't he nice?"

I breathe deeply because I can still feel his eyes on me. I begin to feel it then, the anxiety.

Did I have something on my shirt? My pants? Was there something wrong with my outfit?

I answer my mothers question with a nod, and she smiles again before ushering Toby and me out the door.

I then hear the dreadful sound of the door being shut.

And then, I'm alone with him. I try and brace myself, but I know nothing can prepare me for this.

That's not okay.

I hadn't been alone with Toby since I was twelve years old. That was years ago. I was absolutely sure he had changed.

I knew he did.

I bite my lip, and grip the straps of my book bag while following him towards his car, grateful we weren't going to ride on that death monster some call a motorcycle.

Toby doesn't say a word to me, which I'm grateful for since I would probably pass out if he even looks my way again.

I go around to the other side, my eyes peeking out from the hood of his car while I wait for him to unlock it.

I stare at him, again.

And I gasp a little as he stares back, his eyes meeting mine. I blink away quickly and feel relief as I hear the tale/tail sound of a lock.

I quickly open the car door and slip inside, my nose immediately scrunching up at the smell of smoke.

My hands clench the fabric of my pants as Toby climbs into his car and puts the key into the ignition.

I try to remember to breathe as I count to ten. I haven't even been in his presence for five minutes and I'm already freaking out.

This is why I watch from a distance.

My chest starts to beat even faster, and my stomach feels like it's going to explode when he speaks.

"Seatbelt," he reminds, but it sounds more like a command. His voice is dark and husky, and I don't want to know what happens if I disobey that voice.

I hurriedly buckle the seatbelt across my waist, and lean back into the car seat. My eyes watch the scenery fly by until I couldn't deny the urge any longer.

I look over at him. I still can't wrap my head around the fact that I'm in his car.

And he hasn't killed me yet.

It's no secret he gets easily ticked off. And when that happens, he's not afraid to throw a punch.

And he always wins. Every fight he's ever fought, he's won. There's no one like him.

Which is why I'm surprised I haven't gotten pounded yet. Toby doesn't just hit people for no reason, but I could think of a ton of things I've done already that have to be annoying for him.

Like the constant way I'm tapping my fingers against his door handle.

I stop tapping.

This car ride seems so long, and we weren't even halfway to the school yet. Toby still hasn't said a word aside from his command earlier.

The silence is killing me.

"Did you know that Galileo didn't actually discover the telescope?"

Toby shifts his gaze from the road to me, his brows frowned. I'm dead.

I swallow and continue.

"He actually stole the research from an earlier scientist and claimed it as his own."

Toby blinks at me and turns his attention back to the road, which I guess isn't so bad since that's where his eyes should be.

Still, I can't shake off the embarrassment and scoot down in my seat, wishing it'd just swallow me up already.

Why do I have to be so awkward?

I should learn to keep my mouth shut.

My eyes drift back to Toby, and it seems that no matter how hard I try, my eyes always go where they're not supposed to. Always back to him.

I study him. He seems tense, his jaw clenched, and his knuckles are turning white from clenching the steering wheel so hard.

My eyes zero in on his, and I realize that Toby has really long eyelashes for a boy. They're full, and dark, and they seem to brush against his tan skin whenever he blinks.

"Staring is rude."

I quickly look the other way, biting my lip. That's the second time he's spoken to me. It must be a miracle.

I've never heard Toby speak twice in one day. He's always quiet. But if someone was staring at me for ten minutes straight, I'd probably say something too.

So, as not to bother him, I turn my attention towards the window.

And I don't dare look at him again.