Free Falling
Page 19Zach burst out laughing and shook his head at me as if I was stupid. “Traceur,” he corrected as if that slight difference in pronunciation made all the difference. “It’s someone who practices parkour. He’s a stuntman and my personal hero,” he explained, plopping down on the bed, watching me.
I blushed, feeling stupid for not knowing that, though why I would know that in the first place was beyond me. “Oh, the jumping over stuff,” I replied, nodding, playing dumb.
He grinned and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, the jumping over stuff.”
“So where do I know him from?” I asked curiously. I knew nothing of parkour, so it wasn’t from that.
“Movies?” he suggested. “You ever seen District 13?”
“Nope.” I studied the guy again and suddenly it hit me. “Oh I know! The guy that dives out of the helicopter in Die Hard 4!” I said excitedly. “I loved that movie. Mostly I loved it when Bruce Willis kicked his butt.”
He laughed. “That’s him,” he confirmed. “Hey, we should watch District 13, you’ll love it. It’s French subtitles though, but I bet you like foreign movies being super brainy and all.”
I frowned as he stood up, heading over to his cupboard and pulling it open to reveal a shelf jam packed full of DVDs. “Zach, we’re supposed to be studying,” I reminded him, unzipping my bag and pulling out my notebook. He sighed, frowning, looking like he would rather be doing anything other than this. I sat down on his bed and kicked off my shoes, crossing my legs. “English first?” I suggested.
He groaned and flopped down on his bed face first, burying his face in the pillow. I ignored his obvious unwillingness and flicked open my notebook. Big black writing on the first page caught my eye. My mouth dropped open in shock at the word that was written there, the same word that desecrated my locker this morning. ‘Bitch’. I frowned at it, not knowing how on earth it had got there. How the heck had someone got hold of my notebook and written that across my Spanish essay without me even knowing? Why would someone even do it in the first place? My mind flicked to Sandy again, it had to be her, I’d humiliated her at the party in front of everyone when I called her a dirty tramp, and this was probably her revenge so I had to rewrite my assignment.
My jaw clenched tightly as an acrid taste filled my mouth. I really should have taken Zach’s advice before and punched her. I flicked through my book to see that almost every page had the same ugly black scrawl on it, ruining all of my work that I’d done for classes. I spotted my Algebra notes that I’d made this morning, they’d been ruined too, so that meant that this had to have been done today, either lunchtime or this afternoon.
Something hit me in the arm, snapping me out of my angry state. I slammed the book shut, trying not to cry from anger. I wasn’t very good with emotions; I cried easily, I guess I was a bit of a weakling of sorts. I looked back at Zach to see he’d hit me in the arm with his book, one eyebrow raised curiously. “We starting then or what?” he asked.
I gulped, nodding. “Yeah, I guess, sorry,” I muttered.
He cocked his head to the side, looking at me like a curious puppy. “What’s up?”
I smiled, appreciating the concern in his tone. “Nothing,” I lied. “Right, so have you read The Crucible?” I asked, motioning towards his book that was in perfect condition and looked like it hadn’t even been opened.
He smiled sheepishly. I’ll take that as a no then! “Sure I have. It was awesome.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes at him. “So there’s no need for me to go over the general plot with you, right?” I asked, smirking in his direction.
I had to laugh; he was actually a pretty funny guy. He smiled and scooted up next to me, biting into an apple and handing me the other one as we started going through book step by step.
After an hour later we were doing really well. He was actually a pretty quick learner, well, when I could keep his mind on task anyway. His thoughts seemed to wander off a lot and start veering off onto other things so I had to rein him back in again. I could see why he would have such a problem with studying on his own, with no one to keep him on track he was probably doodling in his notebook within ten minutes. But he did seem willing to learn, which was a good thing.
He threw down his pen suddenly and stood up. “I’m hungry and I need to start dinner. Want to come and help me?” he asked, looking at me hopefully.
I shook my head. “No, but I’ll sit there and read to you while you cook dinner, how about that?” I offered.
He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Isn’t there a movie of this I could watch instead of reading it?”
I laughed and grabbed my shoes, putting them back on before I stood up so that my feet didn’t touch anything rancid that was on his floor. “Two movies actually, but they both sucked, so read the book,” I instructed.
As it turns out, I didn’t get much reading done while he cooked, because his aunt was still sitting up the table, and she could probably talk the hind legs off of a donkey. My head was spinning as she talked on and on, but she was an extremely nice person. Her and Zach seemed to get on really well, the conversation bounced back and forth while he prepared a homemade chicken pot pie. When the front door opened, Olivia bounced out of her seat and headed into the other room eagerly, talking to someone.
Zach frowned and shoved a large ceramic dish into the stove, then washed his hands. “That’ll be done in an hour. You want to stay for dinner?” he offered.
“Er…”
“You might as well stay; you’ll be here still anyway. I’ll just drive you home after,” he suggested, shrugging casually.
I chewed on my lip. “Okay, sure. I guess I can put your cooking skills to the test then, huh?”
He nodded, seeming pretty proud of himself. “You’ll love it.” He nodded to the hallway, signalling for me to go first as usual.
“How do you know how to cook then?” Not many guys knew how to cook; especially not things like a pot pie. Alex wouldn’t have a clue where to start with that - then again, Alex burned grilled cheese.
“My dad taught me, he liked to cook,” he replied shrugging. My ear picked up on the past tense of that statement. My mind was whirling, wondering again why he was living with his aunt and not his parents. “You going or what?” he asked, motioning towards the hallway again because I hadn’t started walking because I was trying to work out his past.
I nodded and headed into the hallway, seeing Olivia standing with a blond stocky guy who was probably in his late forties. Olivia smiled warmly. “Maisie, this is my husband, Alan. Alan, this is Zach’s tutor, Maisie.” She waved a hand between us in introduction.
I felt the frown pull at my forehead. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr Kingston.” I forced my tone to be polite like I was always taught, but the hard expression on his face wasn’t very welcoming at all.
“Alright, Uncle Alan?” Zach chirped sarcastically from behind me.
The guy’s eyes flicked to Zach, a scowl slipping onto his face. “Go to school today or did you make your aunt cry again?” he barked.
I flinched from his hard tone, shifting on my feet as Zach pushed me towards the stairs, his face mirroring the hard expression of his uncle’s. “I went,” he spat. “We’re going to study.” Alan made a scoffing sound in the back of his throat as Zach forced me to walk up the stairs, his whole body tense.
I tried to pretend like I couldn’t hear Alan talking to Olivia as we walked away. “Waste of freaking money. A tutor, really? Like that kid will ever graduate, he’s a f**king waster,” Alan growled.
“He is not a waster! He just needs some extra help, that’s all,” Olivia hissed.
I cringed at how uncomfortable this situation was as they then started having a full blown argument at the bottom of the stairs about how Zach was a useless sponger and was ruining everything, that Alan didn’t want him here, and that he made everything hard, that they were already struggling with money and Zach was just a deadbeat kid who’d never amount to anything. Olivia was arguing back that he was family and that she’d never abandon him. By the time we got into Zach’s room, they were practically screaming at each other.
Zach slammed the door behind him, making it rattle on its hinges as he gripped his hands in his hair, his whole body tight with anger as he leant against the door, kicking it with the back of his heel. I didn’t know what to say or do. What was there to say? He obviously didn’t get on with his uncle, that much was glaringly obvious. The whole situation was really sad.
“You okay?” I asked quietly, touching his elbow tentatively.
“Just grab your stuff, I’m taking you home now,” he snapped, shoving himself away from the wall and grabbing my schoolbag, throwing my books and pens in there angrily.
“But we haven’t finished,” I protested.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass!” he growled. “I’m done. We’re done.”
I frowned, stepping in front of the door, blocking it as he stalked over to it again, obviously ready to leave. “Zach, look, I’m sorry that happened, but we should finish studying. You were doing so well,” I encouraged.
His jaw tightened, his hard brown glare locked on me. “What’s the point? He’s right, I’ll never graduate anyway. I’m just wasting their money and your time.”
I gulped at his words. He sounded like he really believed them; there was a defeated, resigned tone to his voice that was actually painful. “Zach, of course you’ll graduate. I’ll help you. If they’re struggling with money then I’ll just help you for free, how about that?” I suggested. I didn’t really need the money anyway, extra cash was nice, but it wasn’t necessary, I got an allowance from my parents anyway.
I pressed my back against the door so he couldn’t open it. “Stop snapping at me, I’ve done nothing wrong!” I cried, shoving on his chest angrily, but he didn’t even move, it didn’t even make him step back because he was obviously too strong for me to have any effect on. “I’m offering to help you because you said you really wanted to try this time. You said that you want to get this stuntman job, then go get it. Giving up is just going to confirm everything he’s thinking; so graduate and prove him wrong!” I challenged, glaring at him the same way he was glaring at me.
Silence lapsed over us as he obviously thought it through. I could see the indecision on his face, I could also see a desire, he definitely wanted that job, but the desire was almost entirely masked by anger. After an uncomfortable minute of him just scowling at me, his shoulders seemed to loosen, and he swallowed loudly. “You’re more of a fighter than I gave you credit for,” he muttered.
A smile twitched at the corner of my mouth because I knew I’d won. “Yeah, I guess practicing my bitchy comebacks on you is helping with my confidence. I should thank you for that,” I joked.
He laughed, his eyes dropping to the floor as he chewed on his bottom lip.
I reached down and took my schoolbag from his hand. “We should finish up with that English assignment, and then maybe work on some biology?” I suggested hopefully.
A frown lined his forehead but he nodded at the same time. “Okay, but I don’t want you to do it for free. I have a job, I can pay you,” he agreed.
I smiled because he was still willing to try, and headed back over to the bed, not caring this time that I stood on all of his crap as I marched across the room. “Whatever. Come on,” I replied, deciding that I would get this boy to graduate if it was the last thing I did. I would love to see the look on his uncle’s face when that happened. Zach trotted over to me, plopping down, still looking sad and angry, but he picked up his book again, flicking to the right page so we could finish up.
Dinner had to have been the most awkward time of my life, ever. Olivia tried to lighten the mood by talking to me, and then would try to bring Zach into the conversation too, but every time he opened his mouth and said something, his uncle would grumble something incoherent or make a scoffing sound. Even I wanted to punch him. I had no idea how Zach kept his temper the whole dinner. The only good thing about it was the food. Zach was right, he did cook pretty damn awesomely, I was definitely impressed.
After dinner we headed back to his room to get my things. Zach grabbed a bottle of drink, a towel, a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. “What you up to?” I asked, eyeing him curiously, wondering why he was packing a bag.
“Going to the training hall for a couple of hours. I go every night, gets me out of here,” he replied, shrugging casually.
“Gonna do your traceur stuff?” I asked, proud of myself that I got the word right.
He grinned and nodded. “Yeah.”
I debated asking if I could go and watch him. I’d never really seen it properly, and that one move I did see of his was pretty crazy; I’d like to see more of it. But I didn’t ask because he probably needed some time on his own after the whole disastrous family meal thing we’d just endured. Besides, I was going to watch on Friday anyway, because after school I was going with him to meet with his team before we went to study. I was actually pretty excited about that for some reason.