Friday Night Tutor

Chapter 10

Chapter 10
I walk out of the house and am instantly hit with a cold blast of wind. I pull down the sleeves of my thin tee and start walking down the drive to the Kepler's house.
I make a sharp left as I exit our gate, and walk up their drive way; luckily the gates in this community all have little walkways on each side, so I won't have to buzz from down here. As I walk up to the house, I take in the slightly larger structure. Where our house is more traditional cobbled stone walls and brown shutters, the Kepler's house is a slightly larger, whiter traditional/modern style, with large bay windows and slanted roofs.
I walk up to the front door and ring the doorbell, I wait a few seconds, but the wind picks up and I can feel my inner thermometer drop below zero. I'm just about to ring the bell again when Mrs Kepler answers the door.
She looks surprised to see me, but she smiles and says, "Alexa, darling, so nice to see you."
"Hi Mrs. Kepler," I reply as another gust of wind hits me.
"You must come inside, quick, quick," I'm about to protest when she pulls me in and shuts the front door. The toasty warmth of the house encompasses me and I sigh in relief. "The weather here is terrible, isn't it? Moody, is what Joe calls it; one minute sunny, one minute raining, never know what to wear," she says, shaking her head.
"Yeah, but it's nice, you get all the seasons all year round."
Mrs. Kepler laughs lightly. She looks younger when she smiles. The first times I met her, she seemed as if she had something weighing on her shoulders, but it was probably just the stress of the move.
I look around the entry way I'm standing in; it's quite different to my own home. Where our house is mostly dark hardwood floors and paneled walls, here, a light shade of marble incases much of the room, and I'm guessing most of the house; a refreshing difference from our own home. Decorating the middle of the foyer floor is a little mosaic composed of tiles of different shades of browns and creams which create a swirling, circular pattern that stems off into a pathway to the base of each imperial staircase.
My browsing is interrupted when Mrs. Kepler asks why I'm here. I blush, not sure what to say. I'm here to apologize for calling your son a dick, even though he totally was one. "Erm, I need to quickly speak with Daniel," I say, "about homework," I quickly add as an afterthought.
"Let me just call him for you," she says, "would you like a drink?"
"No, thank you," I refuse.
"Oh, I insist. I made some lemonade yesterday with Mary- she mentioned that you and Lissa love it," she says, already walking to the kitchen.
I follow her through the hallway, passing a wall scattered with family pictures. I recognize Daniel, the girls and their parents, there's a picture from their holiday to Greece too. I mentally cringe; I feel like such a creep for knowing that.
As I walk into the kitchen, I see Ava and Mia sitting on high stools at the breakfast bar with a couple of coloring books, both coloring with such concentration that they don't see me enter.
"Girls," their mother says, "Alexa's here, say hello."
The girls look up, and smile warily. Thankfully Mrs. Kepler doesn't see as she's reaching inside the large fridge opposite the girls.
I walk over to the girls, "Hey guys," I say, not sure if they hate me, or not, "is it okay if I drop off your tiaras tomorrow after work?"
The girls smile, "Yeah, sure!" Ava says.
"Why did you shout at Danny?" Mia asks.
Ava nudges her, "You're not supposed to say anything about it, Mia. Remember?"
Mia's mouth forms a little 'o' as she remembers whatever Ava is referencing, I'm about to ask when Mrs. Kepler hands me a glass of lemonade.
"Now you sit down while I go and get Daniel for you," she says, motioning for a stool next to Ava.
I sit down and ask the girls about their coloring books while I wait. I'm nervous, I have no idea what I'm going to say. Are we just going to fight again? I don't think I have the energy to go another round.
Mia is showing me a coloring she did of a butterfly when Daniel walks into the kitchen.
"What are you doing here?" He asks in the same tone as before.
Well, I know what I'm not going say. My mood automatically sours as I look up at him.
"I need to talk to you," I say as I get off the stool and walk over to him.
He looks at me and sighs, turning around and motioning with his hand for me to follow.
I watch him as I walk behind him. His hair is still styled in a messy, wavy bundle atop his head. However, he's not in his usual long sleeve tee and jeans combo. Instead, he's wearing a fitted short sleeved t-shirt and a pair of work out shorts. I'm intrigued by the tattoos that encase his left arm. I step a little close as we walk so that I can get a better look, but nearly walk into his back.
"Sorry," I mumble, embarrassed, and thankful when he doesn't respond.
Daniel leads me into some sort of game room on the east side of the house. The large room is floored with a plush cream carpet that devours my feet with each step I take. A large TV is mounted on the wall directly in front of me with a large U shaped couch sat in front of it. Behind the couch are multiple table games; pool, air hockey and foosball. On the wall to my right is a dart board and a mess of boxing paraphernalia; gloves, robes, short, a shelf lined with medals and trophies. To the left- next to the pool table- the wall is mounted with cues and other accessories.
Daniel walks around the sofa and sits on the right side of the U. I follow and sit on the left so we're facing each other directly.
I sit awkwardly on the edge of the couch, my left ankle tucked behind the right, hands folded on my lap, tension keeping my back rod-straight- just like my mother taught me. Daniel on the other hand is the picture of ease. He's leaning back, one arm slung over the back of the couch, another toying with a ball he must have plucked off the pool table on his way in. I watch for a few seconds as his slender fingers spins it around. I wonder if he plays with balls often, I think and make myself laugh slightly.
My mind is snapped back into the room when Daniel asks, "What is it that you needed to discuss so urgently?"
I look at him, trying to gauge his mood right now, but he just cocks an eyebrow in question. I take a deep breath and say what sounds like the most childish and idiotic thing that's ever probably left my mouth since I hit puberty, "Mom said I had to apologize to you for calling you a Dick."
A beat passes, and when I don't carry one, Daniel asks, "And are you going to apologize?" He crosses his legs, lifting his left ankle to rest on his right knee.
I purse my lips and look away, "Yes."
When he doesn't say anything, I turn my gaze back to him to find him smiling.
"What?" I ask, annoyed at my embarrassment.
"You haven't apologized yet."
"Yes I have, I just did," I say, crossing my arms.
He raises his eyebrows in surprise, "You're acting like a small child."
My jaw drops, "I am not acting like a small child, I came here to apologize for calling you a Dick and I did."
"You didn't really say it."
"Ugh, fine! Daniel, I am sorry that I called you a Dick," I quickly say.
"And.." He motions for me to go on with his hand.
"And for swearing," I say in a dead tone, completing my apology. "Now, you have to apologize to me."
Confusion colors Daniel's face, "For what?"
"For shouting at me!" I shout.
He cocks an eyebrow, "Like you just shouted at me?" he asks.
I narrow my eyes at him. Crossing my arms, I say, "You know what I'm talking about."
"Fine," Daniel says, leaning forward, lowering his leg and resting his forearms on his knees. His body is angled toward the floor, so his shirt falls slightly away from his chest and I get a glimpse of the tattoo that sits just below his neckline; there is a line of cursive script going from one shoulder, across to the other, but I can't make out what it says. How many tattoos does he have? I wonder. I hear Daniel clear his throat, "My eyes are up here," he says, motioning to his face.
My face heats up, and I try my best to keep my expression neutral. "You haven't apologized yet," I say in an attempt to steer the conversation away from the embarrassment of being caught staring at Daniel's rack.
Daniel lets out a deep breath and leans forward even further, his eyes glued to mine, "Alexa, I am dearly sorry for shouting at you," he says. I'm about to accept his apology when he adds, "even though I was completely justified in what I said." I open my mouth to object, but he carries on, "however," he holds his hand up, as if he can physically stop my protests, "I should have said it in a nicer way."
I mull over what he says for a few moment, "It's a gated community. Nobody locks their doors," is my reply.
Daniels sighs, now toying with the pool ball with both of his hands, "I know that now. So do you accept my apology?"
I pretend to think over it, tapping my chin with my index finger like Lissa does, "Hmm, I guess."
He doesn't reply, so we end up in an awkward silence. I watch as Daniel throws the pool ball from his left hand to his right. Again, my eyes are drawn to his tattoos. They stop just above his wrist in an abrupt cuff; what looks to be a thick band of black at first turns out to be an intricate pattern of thin lines twisting and twining within themselves to create a thicker band. Above the cuff is a series of shaded flowers- three to be precise; a rose, an orchid and a tulip. The intricacy of the art that encases Daniel's arm amazes me. I wouldn't be able to do that with a pencil on paper, let alone a needle on someone's flesh. I follow the all black designs up his arm, and am disappointed when the sleeve of his Tee shirt intrudes on my view.
"Doll, if my shirt is making you so sad, just say the word and it's off."
My head shoots up so fast I wince when my neck makes a click sound. I grab my neck with one hand and clamp my other over my mouth to muffle out the string of curse words that no doubt would burn like acid in my mother's ears.
In front of me, Daniel is bent over from laughing so hard.
"Stop laughing," I say through clenched teetch, still clutching onto my sore neck.
"I can't... Say I've ever... given a girl... whiplash... before," Daniel manages to say as he laughs uncontrollably.
"Dude, can you turn your penis off, for like just a second or something?" I say, trying to knead the pain out of neck, but it only gets worse.
"Dude," he imitates me, "you really need to stop thinking about my penis."
Daniel grins and I just shake my head- which triggers a weird 'ouch, ouch, ouch, my neck, my neck, my neck' dance.
I stomp my legs and bury my head in my lap in an attempt to subdue the pain. Suddenly, my hands are pulled away and a cool hand soothes over the taut skin on my neck, another hand holds my own. I clench the hand holding my own tight as the other rubs up and down my neck in a circular motion.
"Shit, your neck is in knots," Daniels says, then he asks, "Do you suffer from migraines?"
I cringe from the pain and nod, not able to speak yet.
"Breathe deep," he orders, and I comply. He releases his hand from mine and puts it on my back, "straighten your back," I sit up, but clench my neck and shoulders, pushing them together to try to relieve the pain a little.
"You're too tense, Lexi. You need to relax your shoulders," he says, tapping my shoulders, motioning for me to release them.
"Mmm mm," I say, "I can't." My voice comes out strained, all the tension in my muscles temporarily reduces the pain in my neck, but intensifies the pain hammering through my skull.
I'm still yet to open my eyes, but I feel as Daniel moves from beside me. The sofa dips behind me and I feel the insides of Daniel's thighs against the outside of my own. He scoots closer, but leaves enough space so that he can reach out to me still.
"You need to relax, all this tension your creating is only going to result in more pain," he whispers into my ear as he moves his hands up and down my arms. Usually, I'd die from the amount of physical contact- and lack of physical space- after all, this is the most action I've gotten, ever. Daniel slowly massages my shoulders, easing them down. "Okay, I'm gonna move to your neck now. It's going to hurt a little, so just put your hands on my legs," I blindly place my shaky hands on either of his legs, my touch feather light at first. Then, as he begins to slowly massage my neck, lightly circling around the sore spot on the right side, my touch gets weightier, until I'm clutching the thick cords of his muscly legs; digging my nails in in an attempt not to cry out in pain. Daniel doesn't say a thing, he just carries on with the task at hand.
I don't realize I'm clenching my jaw until Daniel soothes his hand over my cheek, "Unclench your jaw," he whispers, applying pressure to the undersides of my face, slowly moving up to my temple. I feel the tension leave my body as his deft fingers trail over my face. As his fingertips travel up my nose, under my eyes, and over my eyebrows- all the pressure points on my face- my migraine subsides. I don't realize until now that the pain in my neck is completely gone too.
The tension in my body is replaced by complete, and utter exhaustion. I realize then that I've leaned back onto Daniel, my head resting on his chest. I can hear the soft beating of his heart beneath me, and it soothes me even more. I let out a deep breath, "Thank you, so much."
"No problem," he says, and kisses my temple.
I jump slightly at his gesture and push against his legs, giving me leverage so that I can pull myself up.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to... erm, you know..." I say. I don't really know myself what just happened, I'm too flustered to think right now.
Daniel stands and looks at me, his expression... worried? "Does that happen often?" he asks about my neck.
"Nooo, no. My necks been kinda creaky since I woke up yesterday, I slept all weird, so you know..." I'm so ruffled, I barely register my scarcely coherent words.
"Come on, let me walk you home," he says, motioning for me to follow him.
As we walk out of the game room in silence, I go over what just happened in my mind. How did I not realize what was happening? The intimacy of the situation throws me off completely. Is that what he does to all girls? He did say you were the first girl he gave whiplash to. I mentally applaud my conscience for its expert deduction skills and retreat out of my brain.
We get to the foyer and Daniel walks over to the staircase closest to us, "Wait here a sec, I'll be back."
I watch as he takes the stairs three at a time, and disappears around the corner of the landing in record time.
When he returns, he's wearing a black hoodie and a pair of worn black leather Converses- because obviously normal fabric isn't badass enough for Daniel Kepler. He jogs down the stairs and hands me a similar black jumper to the one he's wearing; but this one doesn't have a hood. "It's freezing outside, might as well," he says, shrugging, then walking over to open the front door.
I pull the thick jumper over my head and hear Daniel laugh softly. I look at him, then down at myself and laugh too. I'm literally drowning in this jumper; the hem reaches my knees, and the sleeves drop down way past my fingers.
I walk over to Daniel as he opens the front door and I gasp loudly as he exits the house. Daniel quickly turns around, "What's wrong? Did you hurt your neck?" he asks quickly. The concern on his face warms something inside me- and no, I'm pretty sure it's not the coziness of the sweater. I ignore the foreign feeling and say, "The door!" in an over dramatized way, "It wasn't locked!"
Daniel's face deadpans as he mutters, "Whatever," and turns to walk down the drive.
I laugh and skip after him, closing the door and catching up to him.
I look up to his face and see him smiling down at me, "At least I won't have to carry a house key."
"The perks of living in a gated community," I say. I pull the sweater up my face to protect it from the chilly wind. Daniel's strong masculine scent wafts off the jumper and I inhale it liberally, basking in the wonderful scent- discreetly.
"So, does this mean we're friends now?" Daniel asks.
"Are you capable of having female friends?" I ask, actually curious as to what the answer is.
Daniel looks at me, and stops walking. We've reached the fountain in front of my house. He sits on the tiled edge of the fountain and scrunches his face up, "I've had female friends before, you know?"
"Really? Because all I've seen you with so far in the time you've been here are the skanks of the town," I say matter-of-factly.
"Language," Daniel reminds me. I mutter an apology and sit down next to him. "They're not skanks," he says the word cautiously. I find his opposition to swearing somewhat amusing. I would have thought a guy like him- all tattooed and pierced and clad in leather- would know more curse words than anyone; but apparently not. "I'm not being cocky, I'm just being blunt here. I'm horny, they're horny. I'm hot, they're hot. Two plus two, equals..."
"Sex," I finish for him.
"And other things," he adds, smirking.
I swat his arm, "Filter."
"Hey, I'm not Audrey," he says.
I nod and scrunch my nose, "Yeah, she probably would have listed a few 'things'," I say with air quotes.
"I can list a few 'things' if you want me to," Daniel offers. He holds up his fingers and begins to count off, "Let's see, there's-"
"Yeah, no. I'm good, thank you."
Daniel laughs and stands up, "You better go in, it's getting colder out here." He pinches my almost frozen nose, "We'll be able to start calling you Rudolph soon."
I slap his hand away and turn to walk to my house. "You're not getting this jumper back, by the way. It's too comfy," I say over my shoulder.
"It's yours," he shouts back. "See you tomorrow, friend."
I shake my head and laugh as I walk up the steps to my house. As I open the door, I turn before I walk in, not expecting to still see Daniel standing near the fountain. He waves, and I wave back. When I turn back around, I come face to face with dad.
"Hey, sweetheart. I take it the apology went well?" he asks. Obviously mom would've ranted about my use of disgusting language by now.
"Yep," I say, closing the front door.
"Do I need to give you a talk on how you're a lady, and you need to choose your words properly?" he asks in a whisper in case mom overhears, his tone mocking.
I laugh and shake my head. He punches me lightly on the arm, "Atta girl."
-
Hey Guys!
I wasn't expecting to get to this part of the story quite yet, but it just happened. Usually when I'm writing I like to just let the scene flow, and not change it too much when I'm editing, I feel like the stories more 'real' this way.

I just wanted to quickly say thank you so much to everyone who is reading my story. It literally just went over 1000 reads, and I'm over the moon- I know compared to some it isn't much, but for me this is a major milsetone- and I have all of you to thank for it- so, thank you again!
(Picture of Daniel's house to the side)
EE xoxo