10 𖠇 A Not-So-Bad Working Partner

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   His bedroom is an utter mess, but I am not here to judge his cleanliness so I let him close the door behind me. The detergent scent that always follows him doubles inside this tiny room, making me rub my nose. With the door closed behind me, he stretches his hand to the unmade bed.

   "I am sorry for the mess," he apologizes, looking around his room as if he hasn't spent half of his life here. "My mother offered to clean it, but she always has a lot of work under her hands with Al and the house and all—so I denied her offer."

   I head to the bed, sitting over the dark blue sheets. "It's totally fine," I let him know. "My room is worse than this," I lie, keeping back the fact that I like to keep my things organized and clean. A clean-freak some would call it. However, I do not have a job to attend to after school so I do have the time to clean my room. Sadly for Oscar, he rarely gets to spend time at home and with his daughter, I assume, with his countless shifts. The time he has fit in into his day—or night if we are being specific—just to help me on this project actually means a lot to me. This truly makes me appreciate him for that.

   "You have internet?" I ask, trying to make a conversation.

   He chuckles, still standing. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but trailers have internet too."

   I look down, chewing the inside of my cheek. "Dumb question," I say. "Forget I said that."

"You would not mind me changing in front of you, would you?" he says, pointing at the closet behind him with his thumb. "It's just that this shirt smells like cheap pizza and hot dog water."

I shake my head, already feeling uncomfortable at the fact that I am about to see him semi-naked. "Not at all," I mutter, placing my book bag over my chest. "Go for it."

   He grips the shirt from the back and pulls it over his head, throwing it into a rack full of other clothes afterward. Then, he slides the closet door open and takes out a plain white shirt. He walks up to the bed before putting it on, allowing me to see his front. Of course, the view is not bad—quite pleasing actually.

   I notice that there is a small tattoo of a bird's silhouette on his right peck.

   He looks down at it, dangling the shirt on his hand. "It's a hummingbird," he mentions, glancing at me. "Native Americans see them as bringers of love, luck, and happiness."

   "That's interesting," I admit, finally snatching my gaze off his chest when I realize that I've been staring. "Is that the only tattoo you've got?"

   He sits next to me, forgetting about the shirt. Once he's settled, he extends his left wrist to me. Allison is printed on his skin on neat cursive letters. "Got it right after she was born," he says, smiling at it in a way only a father would at the thought of his daughter.

   "I like them," I say, letting my bag drop to the floor so I can caress a finger over the name. His skin is warm and I can feel his rhythmic pulse. "Are you planning on getting more?"

   He grabs the shirt once again after I remove my fingers from his wrist. "Not really," he says, finally putting on the shirt. "Besides, my mom is not pleased with them." He adds a chuckle that makes me grin.

   He makes himself comfortable on the bed, laying on his side and resting his head on the palm of his hand. "Why so interested, Theo?" he asks. "Planning on getting one?"

   "Oh, no," I respond, chuckling. "Tattoos wouldn't look good on me."

   He raises a perfect eyebrow, making me wonder if he plucks them. "They don't go along with your nerd attire?"

   "Hey!" I snap, grabbing the pillow behind me and throwing it at his face. "What even is a nerd attire?"

   He laughs, taking the pillow I threw at him and placing it under his head to replace his hand. "Well, the bland sweaters and regular pants aren't appealing."

"I am not trying to appeal to anyone," I let him know, looking down at my hands.

"You definitely appealed to someone," he says, grabbing my attention. "And none other than Harvey Cohen—who would've guessed?"

I tilt my head to the side. "You already know?"

"Of course I know! Everyone knows," he says. "That is all they can talk about nowadays."

I remain silent, unaware that that was taking place at school. At the end of the day, I do not really hang out with the big crowds—or any crowds if I am being honest—and I try to keep myself away from any drama or gossip going around.

"Just be careful," he adds.

I shift myself over his bed so I can be face to face with him. "Why do you say that?"

"I am not referring to Harvey, but to his exes that have been around you," he explains.

I feel a burning blaze on my cheeks. "Who are his exes?"

"I've seen you hanging around with them," he says. "Genesis Davenport, Blaire Thompson, and Aurora Velasquez."

   "He dated them?" These words come out louder than I expected them to.

   He squints his eyes, nodding.

   "Oh," I simply murmur. "I did not know that."

   "Anyway," he says, finally getting on a sitting position, "ready to start?"

   I lean down and unzip my bag, taking my computer out. "Yeah."



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A\N: I am sorry for taking forever to upload, but I have the habit of starting many stories to the point where I do not know which one to add a chapter to.

Also, I love the ship name one of you came up with haha!

If you would like to follow me on Instagram: everrrx.

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